Our New Book Not Just About Pigs!

I'm so pleased to be writing today about Hank's and my new book, Plowing With Pigs and Other Creative, Low-Budget Homesteading Solutions, published by New Society Publishers. We just said goodbye to a local reporter who came out to the farm to interview us for a newspaper article about the book. One thing that came up was the fact that the book is about so much more than pigs. There are chapters on poultry, pigs, cattle and other ruminants, tools, building what you need, growing small grain crops, making hay by hand, cooking from scratch, remodeling a farmhouse kitchen organically, and running a small home-based farm business. It's our pride and joy and we honestly can't wait to get started on the next book.
If you would like a personalized, autographed copy of our book for $25 (includes shipping), email me at thelocalloaf@gmail.com.  God bless!

Prairie Fire Day ... When Fires Attack

This was the small, easy section. No time to snap the big fire!

Saturday morning a truck pulled into our drive. It was our neighbor across the street, a 70-year-old farmer man who wanted to let us know he was going to be burning the pasture that day. Hank decided right away that it was definitely a good day to burn according to the weather conditions, so informed me that would be our agenda for the day. As with so many things, the time to burn is when the time is right. So ... OK, I was preparing for my first burn.

Controlled prairie grass burning is done each year in the spring to burn off the old vegetation and make way for the new green grass. It restores everything and impoves the grass quality and quantity. It was something I had never experienced until moving to the midwest--definitely not in wildfire-prone California.

We pulled our utility vehicle out of the barn and filled its tires (they tend to go flat when sitting all winter). Then Hank loaded the water tank onto the bed and soon learned the water pump was broken. So, he ran to TSC to get a new one. With the water tank and pump working, we set out for the first burn. We drove around the perimeter of the first area of CRP ground that we wanted to burn. It had a nice, green-grass border around it and it looked to be pretty straightforward. So, as Hank drove the 4-wheeler, I ignited the torch and touched the tall grass around the edges. It's amazing how fast the dry grass erupts into flames! Pretty soon there was a wall of flames burning in a circle into itself. In about 5 minutes it was done. We drove around the perimeter and watered any smolderers. 



Prairie fire. How real men water the grass!



With that piece of cake eaten, we set out for a much larger piece of CRP ground. We surveyed the perimeter and Hank settled on his plan of action. We set off fire all around with the intention of it burning itself out when it reached a waterway on the southern edge, and the green grass on the other edges. Well, things don't always go according to plan. The fire obeyed on three sides, but it didn't stop at the southern  waterway as we intended. It jumped the electric fence and continued burning into a massive section of CRP ground going south. We fought it with water as best we could but there were some scary moments when the wind would change direction suddenly and we'd be engulfed in intensely hot smoke. Thank God for the utility vehicle and being able to just motor out of it. Keeping calm (because I completely trust my husband's judgment), at one point Hank said "I don't know how we're going to put this out" because it was so large and there was so much fuel in front of its leading edge. He sent me to fill the water tank so he could study it. When I got back, he had a plan. We cut the fire in half by taking out the middle section. Once that was doused, we could go back and forth to the two smaller fires and chip away at them. This is what we did, going back and forth. Then, we set a back fire starting at the edge of an active waterway and in a matter of minutes, that inferno was reduced to smoldering piles of cow patties (really).    

Armageddon happened! New grass will sprout by week's end.

Whew! With the fire out, we drove around the entire burned area and watered down any smoke stacks. When we reached the wooded area on the northern edge, we were relieved to find the fire had obeyed and burned itself out when it reached the sheep trail and green grass. Or did it? There were patches of burned grass throughout the green grass and a suspiciously smoldering log along a fence line. We drove up and found a downed tree had caught fire and was smoking, as in a dying campfire. Hank soaked it and put it out. As I was watching him do this, the utility vehicle died. Just stopped running. Apparently, it was out of gas. We thanked God that it had gotten us through that intense period of fighting fire and stopped just as we were finishing up. We grabbed our things and walked back to the farm.
What an amazing, adrenaline-filled day. We can check off "prairie burning" on our spring to-do list, and I can count this as one more life-building experience I'd never get if I lived in civilization.   

Handmade Gifts From the Heart

This time of year can cause us all a great deal of stress … presents to buy, people to please, and it feels like there’s never enough money or time to go around. A few years ago I started keeping a “gift file” where I keep pages ripped from catalogs and notes on things I’ve seen throughout the year that might make a thoughtful gift for one of my loved ones. I also shop at antique stores for things that will make unique gifts for those people who appreciate things like that. Recently, I also began keeping a “handmade gifts” file where I write down ideas for things I can make that will cost very little but will still fit the bill for Christmas gifts. Here are a few of my favorites that can be done last minute…

*Gingersnaps in a Jar*

Buy a vintage quart-sized canning jar at an antique store (usually around $5) and fill with the following ingredients. Tie on a tag with the baking instructions and throw in a new wooden spoon or vintage pot holder and this gift is good to give.



Re-type or print out this tag and
affix to jar.



1 1/4cups packed dark brown sugar

2 1/4 cups all-purpose unbleached flour

3/4 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 3/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

Assemble the jar ~ Spoon the brown sugar into the jar and press down into an even layer. In a separate bowl, sift the flour, baking powder, soda, and salt into a bowl. Using a funnel or spoon, add the flour mixture to the jar and tap lightly to form an even layer. Sprinkle the ginger, cinnamon, and cloves on top. Print out (or re-type) a tag with the baking instructions (at right) and attach to the jar with a fancy ribbon or piece of raffia.



*A Selection of Homemade Baked Goods*

Some crowd pleasers:

   * Peanut Butter Balls: http://bit.ly/uPwAAc

   * No-knead Bread: http://bit.ly/v4DFTn

   * Iced Sugar cookies (recipe below)

Wrap in tins, baskets, or bags, throw in a card, and hand deliver or overnight the package to special loved ones. Most of the cost of this gift will be incurred in the shipping, and will vary depending on where the recipient lives.

~Iced Sugar Cookies~

2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1 1/2 sticks butter
2/3 cup white sugar
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla

Icing:

1 1/2 cups confectioners’ sugar
4 teaspoons meringue powder (available online or on the bakers supply aisle, even Michael’s)
1/8 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons water
Sprinkles, optional

Combine flour, salt, and baking powder in a small bowl and whisk to stir.

In a large bowl, combine the butter and sugar. Beat on high speed until light and fluffy. Add the egg and vanilla, beat well. Add flour mixture and beat on low speed until just combined.

Press dough into a ball and flatten into a disk. Wrap in plastic and refrigerate for 1 hour.

Preheat oven to 350° F.

Roll out dough to ¼ -inch thickness and cut out cookies. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Bake for 10 to 13 minutes until edges are lightly browned.

Icing: Combine the powdered sugar, meringue powder, and salt in a small bowl and whisk together. Gradually add the water, whisking until smooth. Using an offset spatula, spread on cookies and add sprinkles immediately. Let cookies dry for at least 1 hour before handling, preferably overnight.




My handmade soap wrapped in strips of scrapbooking paper,
in a dish stamped “Handmade in Italy” that I found
in an antique store for $5.



*Homemade Soap*  

If you’re a soapmaker or would like to try, check out my soapmaking instructions here: http://bit.ly/vAQ3D5. Just make sure to cut the bars neatly (or use a special wavy cutting tool) and wrap with wrapping paper, or the kind of printed paper sold at craft stores (like Michael’s) for scrapbooking. Place the soaps in an interesting container from an antique or secondhand store and tie a ribbon or raffia around it. (I trawl my local Goodwill shop for home goods where they sell for 49 to 99 cents each.)

Note: Remember that homemade soap should cure for at least 2 weeks before using, so if you make it last minute, be sure to tell the recipient what date the soap can be used.

*Homemade Bird Treat Ornaments*

I saw this idea in the December 2011 issue of Garden Gate magazine …

3/4cup white or wheat flour

3 cups bird seed mix

1/2 cup dried cranberries

1/2 cup raw peanuts

1/2 cup boiling water

1/4 ounce unflavored gelatin

3 tablespoons light corn syrup

Mix the dry ingredients in a large bowl. Measure the boiling water in a glass measuring cup. Add the gelatin to the water and stir until its dissolved. Add the corn syrup and mix well. Pour the liquid over the dry ingredients and mix well. It should be very thick and sticking together. Spoon the dough into muffin tins. Using the end of the handle of a wooden spoon, poke a hold through the middle of each “muffin” while it’s still wet. Allow the ornaments to harden for at least 3 hours, then dump out of the pan and tie a ribbon through the hole for hanging on trees outside. Your loved one will enjoy watching the birds snack on these ornaments all winter long.



One of my walnut cheese boards in the finishing process.

*Something Unique from Nature*

Nature provides some of the most beautiful gifts I can imagine. This year, I made a point to give away some of our farm’s bounty. My husband milled some downed walnut trees and I selected some nice planks to cut into 12” x 8” slabs for bread or cheese boards. I sanded the slabs down and applied food-safe Butcher’s Block wax as a finish. I affixed small rubber feet on the backsides so the board is slightly raised and won’t slip on a countertop or table. For more on this project, see my previous post here: http://bit.ly/vH6rZL

Enjoy your handmade holidays and don’t stress!

Homemade Reese's - A Halloween Tale & Treat



Peanut butter balls - a delicious little Reese's-like truffle



Remember back in the day when folks actually used to give out homemade candies and goodies to trick-or-treaters? My sister and I would occasionally get a popcorn ball, or a small bag of chocolate chip cookies from the neighborhood old folks and we'd eat them just like the snack-sized candy bars that filled our plastic pumpkins. Then, the "razor blade in the candy bar" incident happened somewhere in America (who knows if it actually did happen or it was an urban legend) and moms everywhere recoiled in horror and suspicion over anything homemade at Halloween. 

As I was out walking this morning I was thinking if there was a way to bring back the homemade Halloween treat for trick-or-treaters. Would kids even want them? I thought, I could put my peanut butter balls (recipe below) in individual little baggies with my return address label on it, then people would know they could "trust" the source. But then, no, I'd have to put an ingredient list on it too because every other child out there is gluten intolerant, lactose intolerant or has peanut allergies, et cetera, so they better know what they're getting. But then if some overly eager child ate the thing before mom could thoroughly vet it, I'd be asking for trouble ... in the form of a lawsuit. What a sad, sad state of affairs we find ourselves in these days.  

So, do your family a favor and make these treats for yourselves ...

PEANUT BUTTER BALLS
I love chocolate. And I love peanut butter. And let’s not forget salt. When I was young, my mom used to make these delicious little balls of peanut butter and chocolate goodness that contain absolutely nothing healthful. But I firmly believe in all things in moderation and eating these once a year—whether that’s Halloween or Christmas—certainly won’t kill you; though they’re so addictive they might put you in a sugar coma! Consider yourself warned.


12 ounces crunchy peanut butter (not the “natural” kind that separates)

2 sticks unsalted butter, softened

16 ounces powdered sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 bag semi-sweet or milk chocolate chips (good quality with cocoa butter; make sure the ingredients do not contain nonfat milk)

Kosher or sea salt

In a large bowl, with your hands, mix together the peanut butter, butter, sugar, and vanilla. Make sure it’s thoroughly combined and mixed. Wash your hands. Roll the mixture into balls and drop onto a wax-paper lined baking sheet. Freeze for one hour.

Melt the chocolate chips in a double boiler or microwave, according to the package instructions for melting. Using a skewer, a mini spatula, a spoon—whatever works—roll or dip the balls in the melted chocolate and place on the wax paper. You may have to patch up the sides with melted chocolate (this is where the mini spatula comes in handy) if the candies come out a little rough. If you’ve got any fingers free from melted chocolate, sprinkle a pinch of Kosher or sea salt on top. Place in the refrigerator or freezer for a little while to set up.

Seeing the Forest Through the Trees

Buh-bye!

Here's a story I know many of you can relate to ... A few years ago, I was living a life of total deception. Deception regarding money, that is. I was working my editor-in-chief job in an office, believing that I needed all the trappings that go along with that title. If I wanted a new, expensive pair of shoes, well, I had a credit card. If I wanted new kitchen appliances, well, just open a Lowe's credit card! If I wanted new furniture, that's what credit cards are for! I was living well beyond my means, believing that "one day" I'd eventually pay off all those debts and the money I earned would actually be mine. Wrong.
Well, a change in "life circumstances" (as a friend calls it) occurred and I no longer had a paycheck that enabled me to keep riding that merry-go-round. I was faced with a huge reality check. I realized just how crushing and devastating all that debt really was. It caused fear in my heart (Will they come to get me? Will I have to file bankruptcy? How can I save face?) and an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. I immediately sold on Craigslist anything of value that could provide some cash. It's amazing how things looked differently to me. Why the hell did I spend $300 on that handbag ... those shoes ... that baubble? I ate through my freezer and pantry--no more shopping at Whole Foods--and somehow managed to survive. Every dime, every penny was cherished and every purchase, no matter how necessary (toilet paper!) was scrutinized. I went through a process of transformation. My mindset was that every time I felt the urge to whip out a credit card, I asked myself "Do you really need that? Or do you just want it? Why do you want it?"
Flash forward two years later, and the reason I'm writing this blog is because this morning I officially became debt free. I've been working for about a year and a half as a freelancer, and every time I'd get a paycheck for a writing or editing job, I'd put 3/4 of it toward that monster debt. My newly formed, farm-based bread business, The Local Loaf, funded groceries and provided needed cash flow. (Thank you Shannon Hayes for inspiring me to become a "Radical Homemaker.") The process caused all kinds of squabbles with my new husband ("Pay off those credit cards!"), and many "sacrifices" on my part--can you believe no haircut/color for 8 months?--but for the first time in my life I could see the forest through the trees. My husband's Midwestern upbringing and natural frugality, combined with our ever-increasing mission of self-sustainability and rejection of consumerism has led me to this day. Dave Ramsay's "I'm debt freeeeeeeeeee!" was also ringing in my ears. It has definitely been a journey to get here; but the journeys where I've learned the most have always been a result of having the least.
Now the fun can really start!   
      

Bling My Barn



barn before

Last Friday, just after finishing mowing the lawn, I was outside with the dogs. A red truck came idling up the drive, which is always concerning (I guess we live off a gravel road for a reason). The man behind the wheel asked if I had any interest in having my old barn painted and if so he could give me a quote and a good price since he and his crew had just finished painting our neighbor’s barn about 4 miles down the road. My first inclination was to shoo him away, saying I wasn’t interested because these types of approaches usually scare me, but then I thought ... it would be nice to have that old eye-sore made over. What’s the danger in getting a quote?



blinged barn

So, we ambled down to the barn in the stifling 95-degree heat and humidity and he described how he and his crew travels around, painting all the barns, outbuildings, even houses in the area every year. He said it would be great for him to round out the week with another job. We talked about the regional differences and colors of barns in the Midwest (red), as opposed to Kentucky (where I moved from, and where all the barns are black, for tobacco) and Tennessee (where he is from). He offered to do the job for little more than what paint would cost, so I made the call to the hubby at work. After asking a few more probing questions like “Are you a gypsy?” (kidding), we decided to take him up on the offer, quietly saying a prayer that it would all be OK. About an hour later, the paint truck rolled up with the crew and instantly our barn roof was being painted with a shiny aluminum asphalt paint. It took about an hour for it to be sprayed and finished. They came back the next morning and painted the body red—in about 3 hours. Incredible!

After they were done, we walked all the way around, pointed out some thin spots, one area of touch up, and asked that one of the pipe gates be wiped down from overspray, and they did it without consternation. Incredible … again!

So, as you can see the results at right, we’re quite pleased with the transformation. I guess sometimes you do have to step outside your comfort zone and take a chance … and give someone else a chance.



Double the Fun

A few weeks ago I was asked by Tabitha Alterman, the Mother Earth News and Natural Home & Garden food and gardening editor, to write a blog for their website. So, I asked myself if I had the time or motivation to do two blogs, and decided that I didn't. But ... I'm doing it anyway!
My new blog over there is called "Common Fare" and I'm writing mostly about food and cooking, including my Chocolate-Bacon Muffins (seen at right) and Lemon Polenta Cake. Click here for the recipes. I'm not sure what the deal is with the "Comment" function for the blogs there, but the situation looks a little bleak. Consider opening a user account and then you can Comment away your afternoons!
Hank and I have recently returned from the Mother Earth News Fair in Puyallup, Washington, which was a big hit. I did "The Art of No-Knead Artisan Bread" workshops on Saturday and Sunday from the prep kitchen at the Fairgrounds while behind me, Eating Well magazine's food editor, Jessie Price, sliced fish and prepared appetizers for her demonstration. It was a hoot, and she was great! What wasn't great was the oven at the fairgrounds. An electric range not capable of sustaining 475 degrees (and hardly even reaching it for that matter), yielded less-than-perfect loaves and downright despicable baguettes. Though it did make me want to hug my hard-working Kenmore Elite Pro gas range when I returned home. I realized I would not have my bread biz, The Local Loaf, without that crucial piece of equipment.
All in all, it's shaping up to be a busy summer. Lots of gardening, farming, and projects in the works, which I'll detail here soon. Love and miss you all!   

A Woman's Workshop

It seems like every other show on HGTV is about this new trend of creating a "Man Cave" for the man of the house. I guess that's a positive for men who need to escape, but at our house, we've just about completed the time-honored woman's workshop--that is, the kitchen. It's been about 6 weekends of grit, grime, and unpleasant surprises, but the end result is so worth it!

It's amazing what paint and a router tool can
accomplish when remodeling on a budget.

First of all, our Osage County, Kansas, four-square farmhouse is 105 years old. The former wallpaper in the kitchen dated to the early 1910s. And not in a good way. Stuck behind the cabinets (as the cabinets were added sometime mid-century), the old cherry-and-bluebird-printed paper was dirty and crackling. The shelves were covered in (last time I counted) about 5 layers of contact paper, followed by a layer of grime. The cabinets were everyone's favorite mid-tone wood grain, and the walls were wood paneled, of course. It was a "fabulous room of wood" akin to Ace Ventura's "fabulous room of death." The countertops were vintage laminate with a mauve tone. This all converged as a hot mess, but we decided to live with it for a time in order to determine what would work best for us, what we could afford, and what really needed to be hired out and what we could do ourselves.
We began with the cabinets, which we were NOT going to spend big money to replace. They were custom built for this house at some point and perfectly sound--just in need of a facelift. My handy husband read up on routering and transformed the flat, boring cabinet doors by routering a seam down the middle and rounding off the edges. We primed and painted the cabinets inside and out, using Valspar's Kitchen & Bath Enamel (a soft gloss paint so lovely it actually made painting FUN). Hinges, as we all know, are a complete nightmare to replace, so I painted the old ones a flat black and we bought new pulls and knobs online at a plumbing warehouse for a fraction of the Lowes price.

New sink and faucet, my handsewn curtain,
and a handmade Ball jar light fixture.

We replaced the old sink and leaky faucet with a single bowl cast iron sink and vintage style pewter faucet (again, both bought at a plumbing warehouse online for a fraction of the cost). The countertops were our one and only splurge ... an exotic granite that we both fell in love with at the slab warehouse in Lenexa. We hired a local tile man to do the subway-tile backsplash which he did in one day for a price so low I'm embarassed to report it. We couldn't even buy the tools to do it ourselves for what he charged! I finished it off with a handsewn burlap window curtain, some framed antique prints of vegetables, and a ball-jar light fixture that my husband made from scavenged parts. The only things left to do are install the schoolhouse lights, and the kitchen island my hubby is making from pine and walnut harvested from our farm. (I'll update with more photos when it's done). All in all, we did not have to take out a home equity line of credit to remodel our kitchen (we did have to use a little tax refund money for the granite though); we just had to put in alot of sweat equity to get it done. But we both agreed, we had fun doing it, we loved the late-winter indoor time together discovering each other's DIY skills and we just wouldn't have done it any other way.          

The Great Do-Over

Take a minute and think about one of life's great questions: If you could do one thing over, what would it be? Would it be a decision you made about a job, a house, a child, or a conversation about marriage or divorce? Would it be a day, or merely an instant in time? Over the past week, I've pondered this question over and over and for some reason mapped out the trajectory my life would have taken if I had done just one big thing differently ... where I'd be living today; what job I'd be working; how many kids I would've had; and the list goes on and on. The fact of the matter is that I love my life as it is now, so I wouldn't necessarily change its trajectory, but I would "do-over" an instant in time that occurred last week, but changed my life dramatically.
Last Monday was a regular day for me, in and out of the house, going back and forth between my writing/editing work and my house/farm work. Around 1:00 I decided to go outside and spray paint a silly fixture for our kitchen, so I let my two little dogs out. As I did my painting I looked over to the west and saw my Cairn Terrier, Pearl, gazing up at me, watching. Next I heard the mail man's SUV pull up. I called after Pearl, but she wasn't around. I called and called but she didn't come. I looked out at the road and saw the mail man pulling away and then I heard that sound. You know what sound I'm talking about. Can't even write it because I sob when I think about it.
Pearl was the great dog love of my life and she'll never be forgotten. If I could do one instant over, it would be that instead of going back to my work when I glanced over and saw her sitting there, I would have gone over and scooped her up, looked into her coal eyes, and told her how cute she was, just like I did practically every hour of every day, as crazy as that makes me sound.
Thank you to our friend, Matt Stallbaumer, for the beautiful painting of Pearl shown here, which he did in just a few days. It will hang proudly and prominently at home and will always remind me of her, and to love often and freely, even if it makes us incredibly vulnerable to pain.     

Bacon = Love

On this day of love, Valentine’s Day, what better time to salute the man I love? Now, I will get around to telling you how to make those little nuggets of joy you see pictured at right (it’s SO easy), but first, you have to read this …

For some couples, love “grows” on them over time and they learn to admire the not-so-annoying characteristics of their life partner. Not for me. From the first day I realized I love my then boyfriend, now husband, Hank (or Oscar Henry, more formally), I adored everything about him. A real man, through and through, he can change a tractor tire in the middle of a blizzard just as easily as he can whip up a Texas-style chili and cornbread dinner (as he did last night). He can build a home addition (our new mudroom) like a professional (even applying the Pythagorean theorem to the roof pitch!), just as he will steam clean the carpets when the two puppies have gotten a little out of hand. He goes to work in town every day, because that’s what must be done, but he will rush home at a moment’s notice when an animal is in distress and must be put down. He will build fence all day long in the summer heat, and the next day, scythe grass for our pigs—because the pigs love fresh greens, and because scything is good exercise, of course! I have a great man by my side, and he inspires and motivates me to be a great woman.

Now, about the bacon … what better way to say “I love you” to a man than with bacon? Chocolate-covered bacon, of course! I saw a segment on Cooking Channel (my new obsession, but thankfully hardly anything calls for “crème fraiche”) the other day about “pig candy” made by some business somewhere. It was simply bacon dipped in chocolate. The way you make it is:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Place the bacon on a rack, on top of a baking sheet (so the grease will drip down and not drown the bacon). Start checking for doneness after 20 minutes, but I cooked mine for about 35 minutes (this will depend on the thickness of your bacon and your oven). You want the bacon to be crisp and curled—not so crunchy it shatters, but not limp at all. Let cool for a few hours—you want all the grease to be dried.

Heat some semi-sweet chocolate chips on top of a double-boiler and stir until thoroughly melted. Dip the bacon, one slice at a time, into the melted chocolate and thoroughly coat. The chocolate will be a little thick, so just use your rubber spatula to scrape away the excess. Place the dipped slices on a clean drying rack and cool. When your sweetie comes home from work tonight, the chocolate-covered bacon will no doubt put a smile on his face. Now there’s no need to run to town for a box of Russell Stover. Happy Valentine's Day!

Heartbreak on the Back 40

Cassie was born May 2, 2010. Rest in peace, little one.

This past September 30 we had 60 acres come out of the CRP after 10 years. We were tickled to finally be able to graze our Highland cattle on that land. Understandably the grass on the former CRP was quite tall and the ground fairly wild, but we opened the gates and watched them enjoy their formerly forbidden territory.

Sunday morning as we sat by our campfire sipping coffee, we noticed three (just three) of our cows up near the barn. The mister and I brooded and set off toward the southernmost pond with the dogs to find the others. We came to a clearing in the tall grass and instantly recognized it as a spot where the cattle had bedded down. However, we weren't prepared for what we saw next ... three hooves ... a ribcage ... and finally ... a calf head. There was beautiful Highland red hair strewn about, and it was still attached to the leg bones and head. We were exasperated and deeply saddened, trying to piece together what could have happened. It felt like an episode of CSI: The Prairie. 

We walked further, toward the pond, still trying to find the others. They were right where we thought they'd be, and we knew immediately who the fallen calf had belonged to: Big Mama, as hers was missing from her side. The cows cautiously followed us back toward the "crime scene" and we could tell they were spooked. One by one, they approached the calf's head and sniffed, then slowly backed away when the moment of recognition was upon them. That was the moment I lost it ... when Big Mama sniffed her baby's head and backed away. I burst out in tears, unable to remain stoic and rancherly about the whole thing. 

What we were able to deduce is that coyotes were the culprit. Either the calf died somehow, perhaps struck by lightning (the rib bones appeared "charred"), and coyotes moved in; or, a pack of coyotes surrounded a vulnerable calf and took it down. This would explain the cattle fleeing in different directions and ending up scattered the next morning. We've had intense coyote action for the last several weeks, with enormous roaming packs howling and waking us up at night. 

I'm angry. I want our calves to live. And our sheep, and our chickens and turkeys. We've got a few nasty donkeys that really hate dogs. We're thinking of putting at least one in with the cattle and, the coyotes around here are officially on notice.       

Chicken Slaughtering Day



I know these photos will invoke a bit of squeamishness for some, but I just had to post them to show people the nature of at-home chicken processing.

About 10 weeks ago, we received a batch of Cornish Rock cross chicks (broilers) to raise for our year's worth of chicken. We penned them in our previous corn patch and fed them every day, despite the fact they liked to escape and dine on grass, the pig's corn, and other farmyard delights. A friend and co-worker of my husband's also raised broilers--Freedom Rangers--at the same time, so for the second year in a row, we all got together and did the processing at our farm. Wives, co-workers, neighbors and friends all took part in various stages, each person using their particular expertise to speed up the process. 

With the help of modern equipment like killing cones (the most humane way to kill), a Featherman scalder and plucking machine, and traditional equipment like knives, plastic-covered tables, ice chests and a screened tent to aid in fly control, we all worked together to get it done. We processed and bagged 40 chickens in about 3 hours, including set up and clean up. Afterward, we ate a delightful lunch of quiche, salad and fresh-baked bread under the barn eaves and then our friends hurried home to get their chickens into the freezer. 

For me, processing our chickens at home is an experience that brings me closer to God. We have raised these birds with the intention of them becoming our meat for the winter. We have been blessed with the ability to raise our own food, knowing its origins, and we have taken responsibility for its humane slaughter and clean processing. We are surrounded by friends who are doing the same, with reverance for every step of the process. It's a beautiful thing to be in touch with God, nature, and our ancestors, all in one afternoon.   



saying a prayer



scalding



eviscerating



cooling down



ready for the freezer















Rendering Lard

I just rendered my first batch of lard, made from the kidney fat from our own Mulefoot hogs. Isn't it gorgeous--there to the right? I've been reading up on traditional cooking, in particular Nina Planck's Real Food, and I am a 100% convert to "real" fats. No more "healthy" canola oil, sunflower oil, soybean oil or safflower oil! Planck documents, quite convincingly, that these oils are relatively new industrial creations, and are the real cause of obesity, heart disease and all the other modern diseases we Americans have been plagued with since switching to an industrial diet. These oils are present in just about every processed food on grocery store shelves.

As it turns out, there are all sorts of things our bodies need in traditional fats like lard, beef tallow, and butter, especially, and Planck gives us the research, the science and the dissenting views in her book. Most disturbing is how margarine is made and what's in it (metal particles, rancid vegetable oil, soaplike emulsifiers, bleach). I'll stick to sweet cream and salt, thanks, which is all that is in real butter. I will never touch margarine again, and living in the Midwest, that's not an easy thing to do if one dines out ... ever.

So, I am going to prepare some good old-fashioned country-style roast potatoes in lard, with their crispy, cracklin coat. Yum! Then some pastry shells for quiche ... then frying some eggplant ...

To render lard, all you do is chop up the fat (or run it through a food processor)--we got our local processor to do this at slaughter--and put it in a roasting pan. Roast in a preheated 225-degree oven for 30 minutes to an hour, until only liquid fat remains and a few bits of protein. Run through a piece of cheesecloth and store in a glass or stainless steel jar in the refrigerator or in the pantry. It will keep for 3-4 months this way.

Inspiration Among the Dust

A few weeks ago when my mom was visiting me in Kansas for the first time, I took her to a little town called Paxico, Kan., which is known for neat antique shops. One shop had just come into a huge collection of old cookbooks that they were selling for $3 to $10 each. Oh my, did I have a field day. This is just the kind of thing that gets me fired up!

One could look through old cookbooks and not see a thing of relevance for today's kitchen (think salad molds, Crisco, and steak tartare). However, amongst the gems I took home, including Melting Pot of Mennonite Cookery 1874-1974, BH&G's Heritage Cookbook (1975), The Art of Cooking and Serving (1937), and The Margaret Rudkin Pepperidge Farm Cookbook (1963), I found endless old-time recipes for basic, simple dishes, and some not-so-simple dishes that take a cook's intuition to figure out (love those kitchen-riddles).  

The Melting Pot cookbook features recipes from all different ethnic (Mennonite) groups all over Europe including Dutch, Swiss, German, Polish, and even Russian. It includes so many neat little histories like a detailed description of hog slaughtering day, and the meals the women prepared during it, told by a Russian man, and of course, recipes. It struck me that most of the recipes are really like peasant cooking--very little spices or adulteration and few ingredients. A Dutch vegetable soup was comprised of just potatoes, carrots and celery, and "10 kernels of whole clove" and salt and pepper. The boiled potatoes recipe (also Dutch) was potatoes, water and salt, with a note of caution that the Dutch are very particular about the texture of their boiled potatoes. "Potatoes must be flaky when dished up!" Few instructions are given, and recipes don't indicate what to do with ingredients like vegetables; no "diced," "chopped," "minced," etc. I love to study these old cookbooks and see how dishes were prepared, and really, how recipes were written. I feel like it is training me a bit by making me think about cooking and why things are prepared the way they are. I've already got scores of pages marked for things I want to try like Dutch Pea Soup (better start planning now to acquire a pig's ear and a pig's trotter), and the more easy-to-come-by corn pudding, made from our heirloom corn, Hickory King, that we're growing on the farm.  

Go hunting for some old cookbooks. I promise it will make your time in the kitchen more meaningful as you think about your ancestors and the old days. 

Chance Meetings

Well I've finally come up for air and decided that I will get to my blog today, at last! The last few months have been crazy ... crazy good ... and I continue to be blessed with opportunities in my new life. A few months ago at my fiance's urging, I started a bread scheme that involved sending him to work with a few loaves of my no-knead bread for folks to try. I then created a newsletter with weekly specials, added other farm products like our eggs and Mulefoot pork, and started taking orders. Customers now place their orders via e-mail and I bake twice a week, and everything gets delivered to their desks by Hank, without me ever having to make a trip to town. Hence, the name of my little business is "The Local Loaf, Artisan Bread Delivered to Your Desk."

Over Memorial Day weekend, we attended a wedding at a friend's farm and I was honored to provide the bread. I handed it over to the caterer and accidentally left my tote bag in their van. Upon trying to retrieve it a few days later, her and I struck up an e-mail conversation and it turns out they loved the bread, and now we are in talks to provide them with vegetables, meat, and bread, all from our farm! 

And one more chance meeting ... while having a drink at our favorite neighborhood bar in Osage City, The Sportsman, a girl sat down next to us, obviously beat from a hard day's work. We asked what she did for a living and would you know, she runs a bakery down the street! She makes specialty cakes for weddings, parties, birthdays, etc. and wanted to sell bread but had no time to do it. I am now offering bread to her customers as well. So, my bread has taken on a life of it's own, appropriately, and I love providing people with homemade, wholesome food. In fact, I feel honored to do it, and I'd probably do it for free if I didn't have bills to pay! 

In addition to The Local Loaf, I've been doing lots of freelance writing, food styling, recipe development and food photography for various magazines--my second favorite line of work after cooking. With the fall issue, I'll be working as the editor of The Heirloom Gardener, Baker Creek Heirloom Seed's magazine. I adore Emilee and Jere Gettle, and it is a joy to work with people who are all on the same page, editorially and ethically. I'm in love with this mixture of work--a little desk time, a little kitchen time, a little garden time--it doesn't get much better!

If you work at home, please post a message about what you do and how you like it. I'd love to hear your story. Until next time ...

He's Bonafide

I'm happy to report that me and the mister are now ... officially ... engaged! Now how did this happen, being that we've both been in and out of marriages in the past? I truly believe that a couple must have some pretty significant things in common, mutual respect, and of course, unrelenting passion for each other and those things we love in life.
For us, we both love growing things, animals and doing as much for ourselves as possible. We get tremendous joy over silly farm things, or a new way to save money or reuse something. We think the other is simply brilliant, and we can't imagine our lives without each other. For me, it doesn't get much better than this.
This picture of us is pretty funny: him in a suit and me in a fancy dress. More like it would be the iconic American Gothic--overalls and a pitch fork. It was taken last October at my aunt's wedding in California. He led me around the dance floor all night to country tunes and I've never enjoyed a wedding more. I can't wait to plan ours, though it will probably entail a trip to the courthouse and a summer barbeque on the farm.

Did he present me with a multi-carat diamond ring? No, that would only hinder me in my daily chores (though I did get a ring I love). Our engagement weekend included driving to nearby Alma, Kansas, to purchase me my very own farm truck--a 1969 Chevy Longhorn, sage green with saddle brown interior. Though at the moment, it's parked outside my soon-to-be hubby's office in Topeka. Hmmm ... whose truck is it now?

They Made Me Think

In the winter when "spare" time is easier to come by than in the spring or summer, reading and knitting are always battling each other in my mind for this rare commodity. But in the last few months, I've read a few books that have really caused me to think ... hard.

I gave Shop Class as Soulcraft: An Inquiry Into the Value of Work by Matthew B. Crawford to my sweetie for Christmas after reading a blurb about it in an airline magazine. It sounded right up his alley. After he devoured it in less than two days, I took it on so we could discuss it. The author is a PhD from the University of Chicago who, after doing a brief stint as a "knowledge worker" in a cubicle, went back to doing the kind of work that really satisfied him: running a motorcycle repair shop and working as a mechanic. The book explores the value of actually knowing how to do things in a day and age where skilled hands are becoming less and less important--and hard to come by.  This book is quite heady, but I found myself nodding in understanding, alternating with looking up words in the dictionary!

My sister, Jennifer, sent me Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace With Marriage by Elizabeth Gilbert for my birthday with a post-it note attached saying  "I haven't read this yet, so don't think I'm trying to send you some kind of message." Ha! Well, I skeptically began reading it because quite frankly it pertains to the near future, and I finished it in three days. The author and I had way too many similarities to count and I found her research and findings on the institution of marriage to be refreshing--and just what I needed. Marriage, in the old days, was a somewhat casual agreement between couples until the church hijacked it in the Middle Ages and made it an iron-clad contract that there was no getting out of. Through her cultural and historical anecdotes, Gilbert shows how marriage means different things in different cultures and how it has transformed through time. What it boils down to is that while marriage is good for a society (stabilizes people, procreation, families), government has always tried to interfere and prevent people from marrying because the bedroom--and what married couples do and say behind closed doors--is one bastion that cannot be controlled. The mister read it on one snowy Sunday and of course, we laid in bed--behind closed doors!--and analyzed its arguments.

Radical Homemakers: Reclaiming Domesticity From a Consumer Culture by Shannon Hayes has really got my head spinning (in a good way). Detailing the history of the homemaker, going back hundreds of years, she makes the case that the homemaker is making a comeback--to the way it was way back when households were units of production, rather than simply units of consumption. You see, homemakers used to produce things in their kitchens and on their land--growing food and preserving it, mostly. But around the 1950s and 60s when all the labor-saving devices and convenience foods and products began freeing homemakers from the "drudgery of the kitchen", Betty Friedan coincidentally documented the "bored housewife syndrome." Homemakers lost their purpose in life and became chauffeurs and shoppers, consumers rather than producers. Hayes' argument is extremely well thought out and laid and I encourage anyone interested in sustainable, low-impact and simple living, to rush out and get it. Get the book directly from Hayes on her website http://radicalhomemakers.com/  

Food for thought and thought for food!

       

Pearl the Squirrel

A couple of months ago, I got the best Christmas present ever ... Pearl, the Cairn Terrier. I haven't had my very own dog since I was in high school, so I can't tell you how much this little girl means to me.
Me and the mister had talked about "one day" getting a dog, but with so much going on--the move, impending winter and utter lack of daylight--I had put the idea on hiatus. But back in December, I took a road trip to Chicago with my sweetie's daughter (that's a whole 'nother post!), and as I was driving home, I got a text message from him with a picture of "Bailey" who looked like a sweet, fluffy rat--she was about that size! He had driven several hours to the breeder's farm and bought the dog as an early present for us. But hmmm ... that name. Bailey? Not so much. So I began racking my brain trying to come up with something more fitting. Whenever I'm trying to name something, I start trying on everything for size: "Des Moines Next 5 Exits." Des? Desi? McDonald's. Mac? Maggie? You get the idea. So, as the Roxy Music song "Mother of Pearl" came on my stereo and I was singing "Mother of Pearl ... I wouldn't trade you for another girl ..." I thought "that's IT!" Pearl. Loves it.
So now, as she grows more and more into the Toto dog she is (look at her picture below in my previous post--my, how she's grown!), she picks up a new nickname every day: Pearl the Squirrel (shortened to just "Squirrel" mostly), Pearly Squirrely, Munchie (short for Munchkin), Pearl Girl, and the list goes on. Nickname potential is a very important thing to consider when picking a name for a dog, I've learned!

I Hate To Say It ...

I know this is dangerous ground to tread on, but I know a lot of you will relate. I am SICK and TIRED of social networking! I know, it's ironic that I use twitter, Facebook, etc. to get the word out about this blog, but honestly, most days the whole deal is hard for me to stomach.
You know what I'm talking about... you're perusing your News Feed on Facebook and somebody's cryptic status update catches your eye. You click on "read all comments" and try to figure out what's going on and all it is is a bunch of nonsense, each post more cryptic than the last. Then, you go to that person's page and start mining for details--info tab (has anything changed? relationship status? job? No) ... photos ... wall ... but alas, no details can be found. And then you ask yourself  ... what am I doing? I don't even LIKE this person. Why do I care? And before you know it, you've wasted an hour when you could have been doing something--anything--more meaningful than this rubbish.
And then there's twitter ... it gets worse. Anyone can "follow" you and anyone can open an account with no information attached to it, so in other words, no recourse. (I realize you can limit who can follow you and ban people.) You can say and insinuate anything you want without ever having to take responsibility for it! What could possibly be more perfect for that drunk, solipsistic cyberstalker with time on her hands?
Now, back to Facebook--I'm not done with it yet. What's the deal with all those people collecting "friends" (like who really has 456 real friends?) and the people with more than 200 photos posted of themselves--all of themselves in various poses--with sunglasses! Without! With cocktails! At a bar with hair messed up! Rolling in the grass with flesh-and-blood friends! In a hot tub! Ugh. Do all us "friends" really need to know that much about your alls lives? I just don't get this living-life-through-Facebook phenomenon that's captivating the world. I long for the not-so-distant past (like the 90s!) where a lot of us didn't even have cell phones, let alone FB, Twitter and everything else. I also long for the days of old when I didn't even feel compelled to post something on these sites when something changed in my life ... "I saw a bird out the window!" "My dog took a crap!" (Yep, I'm guilty too.)
To my readers: I apologize for the curmudgeonly rant. I'm not that judgmental. I just wanted to get it off my chest and see if anyone else could relate. Ooh... the UPS truck just drove up! :)     

It's OK To Love Your Life

Each year around now, I turn contemplative, as the date dictates I should. Back when I was editing magazines, I'd write an editorial that outlined everything I had learned that year, and the goals I had for the following year. It was an exercise in humility ... did I do enough this year? Will my readers be sufficiently impressed? Are my goals lofty enough for next year? Ugh.

The year 2009 has been a tumultuous one for me. Virtually nothing is the same in my life today as it was a year ago. And I mean big stuff ... husband, home, job, pets, friends. As one new friend cogently stated "life circumstances changed." Indeed. But I'm not writing today to whine about all my self-induced change (because that's what it was) or lament about relics of the past. My message today is that I love my life; and it's OK for you to love yours as well.

I experienced a little epiphany the other day. As I sat on the floor playing with my early Christmas present from my sweetie, a 10-week-old Cairn Terrier puppy I named Pearl, I felt a twinge of guilt. At the moment just prior to that, amidst Pearl's puppy growling and air-twirling, I felt sheer and total bliss, utter happiness. My conscience said to me ... "shouldn't you be doing something that makes you miserable, like cleaning toilets, or 'querying' editors about writing assignments?" I texted my sweetie and asked: "What's up with that? Catholic guilt or something?" Why must I feel guilty about being truly happy, for once in a long, long time? The answer is that I don't. So it's true ... I don't have a high-powered office job anymore; I take care of a few dozen animals every day on this farm; I cook supper from scratch every night; I knit and sew the things we need like potholders, curtains and wash cloths; I clean, organize and do laundry; I cheer when I see dead rodents that the dogs or cats have killed outside (and sometimes inside!); and I wait with anticipation for my sweetie to get home from the office every night because ... I love this new life we've created together. (And I love him more than words can express.) For me, it's a life full of inquiry; so much more than when I sat in an office chair every day and was assigned the tasks of creating 5-year plans, performance evaluations, competitive analyses, and the like. Each day is different--I never know what I'll find when I step outside the door and into the barnyard--and by my own choosing. 

I was chatting with MaryJane Butters on the phone last week and I shared my "epiphany" with her. She seconded my conclusion and said "yes, why can't we just sit and play with a puppy if we want to, or grandchildren" or whatever for that matter. It's OK to love your life exactly as it is, this day. Embrace those moments of clarity, silence the inner chatter, and revel in the bliss of a puppy's gentle yip or a grandbaby's smile. We don't have to feel guilty or busy ourselves with other, "more important" work because ... there simply isn't any.