lightening the mood

First of all, thanks for all the supportive words on the rain/hay/rain situation. As I mentioned, I've been transitioning the goats' diet -  much more quickly than I would have liked - into soaked timothy/alfalfa pellets and chaffhaye, which is a bagged and semi-fermented alfalfa. I've fed it before, many years ago, but had a mixed experience with quality and availability, which I hope will not be the case this time. Today my order of 12 more 50-pound sacks of Chaffhaye came in, so no one is going to starve here for at least the next couple of weeks.

In other news, the beans are producing abundantly! Some of the vines were badly damaged in the recent deadfall, but I'm still going down to the terrace garden with a little basket every second or third day, to  pick the next batch of beans for salad.

By the way, my "three bean" salads are generally "4-plus beans" salad, which became shortened in my mind to "beans salad" and now, "beansalad." It's on the menu every day, with little modifications to keep things interesting. I've tried adding white kidney beans, and starting with dry red kidney beans instead of using canned. The garden provides varying percentages of green filet beans, yellow filet beans, and yellow romano-type beans. I don't think the "sauce" is ever the same twice: different oils, different vinegars, different ratios. Luckily, it's been tasty every time.

Which reminds me...is this a good time to share a couple of kitcheny tips?

Here's the first. The best idea I've ever heard - honestly it's the only one I've ever heard, but it's a good one - for using strawberry caps: making strawberry-infused vinegar. This came from Nancy Birtwhistle, one of the early Great British Bake-off champions who has since written books on "green cleaning" and gardening. Her website has loads of recipes on it as well.

Anyway, she recommends filling a jar with strawberry caps, then adding plain vinegar and soaking. I don't recall how long she advised, but I just stuffed a jar with strawberry caps, filled it to the brim with vinegar, and watched it get red then redder for a couple of days before straining it into a smaller jar. Isn't it pretty?

This jar was full to start with.
Strawberry vinegar is very nice.

It smells lovely and has a refreshing taste, and is a subtle twist on the vinegar component of beansalad. Plus it's very satisfying to have something to do with the strawberry caps! 

Another tip: garbanzo bean skins. Do you use canned chick peas? I do. Do you remove the skins? I do. It's so easy that it's fun. It involves using a rice-washing bowl and plenty of water, rubbing the beans with your fingers and floating the skins away. It takes about one minute for a can of garbanzos.

This method came from Refika's Kitchen on YouTube. I've followed Refika for a few years now, and have been entertained, educated, and, most importantly, inspired to be a bit more adventurous in my attitude to preparing food.

Back to the beans. I'll try linking to a YT video which should open in another window, starting right here at the chick pea technique. Removing the skins only takes a minute, but I couldn't figure out how to make a short clip, so you'll have to either exit the video after a minute or learn how to make Turkish hummus.

It's really nice not to have all this in the beansalad:

Well this is shaping up to be a bit of a random post, isn't it? I'm going to round it out by linking to an article the Guardian published a few days ago.

I've written about the International Space Station before, and since Russia's invasion of Ukraine, I've often wondered what's going on inside the ISS and in the program control rooms of every country involved. This article by Stephen Walker takes a pretty good crack at the question.

A big chore day tomorrow, so I'm going to do my Daily Markmaking and go to sleep. In case I haven't said it lately, thanks for visiting and especially for taking the time to leave comments - I really appreciate the contact.

~~~~~

a metaphor for august

This is a bale of hay:

This is me, going through this bale:

 Going through it bit by bit.

By bit by bit by bit.

And this is why:

Did you see it? 

Here, I'll zoom in:

Thoroughly tangled amongst the grass blades is a leaf fragment of Solanum carolinense, known as Carolina horse nettle. I cannot think of a nastier plant, and I know a fair few plants. Every bit of it is spiny and toxic and just plain awful.

This bale being deconstructed in minute detail is the last of the 2022 second cut, from my June delivery. When I saw the horse nettle I called my hay man and put this bale aside for an exchange upon delivery of the next 50-bale load.

But there has been no "next load," because there has been no typical second cutting of hay in my area. Some farmers never even got a first cutting because of the rains. Some couldn't get into their fields because of the mud. You've got to have a series of dry days to make hay. We have not had that series of dry days.

Every time the phone rings, I hope aloud that there's hay. Somewhere.

Meanwhile this bale with it's horrible horse nettle component is the last bale in my shed, and I'm trying to make it safe for the goats to have a mouthful, along with a daily serving of a bagged moist alfalfa product from Texas, and a daily serving of a pre-soaked pelleted blend of alfalfa and timothy. Every morning and evening I separate reluctant goats into groups, collar and tie every (still reluctant) goat, and carry a pan of feed to each. Then give them their little handfuls of actual hay. Then turn them loose and wash the pans for next time. And spend a little more time picking through that bale. 

 

It takes a couple of hours to pick through enough hay for a day's worth of handfuls. I first examine a small amount very carefully, then take that "clean" hay and look through it just as closely a second time. I always, always, find something I missed. The nerve-wracking thing: even after that second close perusal, I sometimes find a tiny piece of horse nettle in the hay just as I'm about to hand it to a goat.

I think that's the metaphor part.

Despite making every effort, every day, there are potentially serious problems that are beyond my control.

And the rain, which is at the root of most of the problems,

just

keeps

coming.

To be honest, the past few weeks have been challenging in Goat World. In addition to the extra measures to try to keep hooves healthy in wet conditions, there have been two injuries; happily, Mallow seems fully recovered and Tansy nearly so. There are three goats coughing, possibly because even the best hay money could buy this Spring was sometimes dusty. Acer has been "not right" since the start of August and is requiring close attention and extra care every day. I think he is beginning to feel a bit more himself, at least on days when there is sun and he can get out and bask in the same spot that was a favorite with his mama, LeShodu.

It rained last night. It will rain today.

But it's not raining right now!

And on we go.

~~~~~

overnight

 This happened:

More rain (of course) and perhaps a bit of wind last night brought down a tree that has been standing dead for quite some time.

Acer helping assess the situation from the Upper West Side.
Those pole beans suddenly look a lot closer, don't they, Acer?

 

The length of the bole extends all the way through the garden, east to west, compressing a section of perimeter fence which must be repaired as soon as possible. Fortunately it's the one place on the property where a gap in the six-foot perimeter paddock fence is inaccessible to the goats because of the inner garden fence of stock panels. Of course something non-goat could get into the garden from outside now - and I'm suddenly glad I didn't plant corn this year - but there's nothing I can do about that until the tree has been removed. Repairing that perimeter fence will be a job, because the it runs along the top of a steep bank covered in grape vines and precious milkweed and chin-high bee balm and many other plants. I will almost certainly do far more damage to plants than the treefall did.

Seriously. The falling tree had no way to avoid the pole bean rows and some of the jungle-like vegetation within the garden that has persisted through repeated torrential rains. A few of the stalwart catnip shrubs and fragile milkweed are on the ground. But it's quite marvelous the way the tree avoided - in some places, by inches - the raspberries, dill, okra, and blueberries. And the grapes. The beautiful grapes.

I am so grateful.

Right after taking this snap I very roughly patched that gap where the trunk is resting on the garden fence, so the goats will think twice before trying to climb up on the bole and use it for a bridge. (If just one goat gets through that gap, I can kiss the garden goodbye for 2023.) And I called a logger friend who said he will try to come by tomorrow before noon to have a look at removing the bole. I suggested he bring a friend. This is going to be at least a two-person job and I will be less than a half-person-worth of assistance. In fact, my entire role will probably be shouting - over the roar of a chainsaw - things like, "There's a tiny blueberry bush right behind you!" and "Please don't crush the raspberries, they are finally thriving!"

Fingers crossed.

~~~~~

summer

I am so happy that the struggling bean plants are producing beans!

The first big bowl of beans salad lasted about 36 hours, which included one breakfast and one midnight snack. I've already picked another batch for the second bowl. This may not be a highly productive year for beans, but I'm grateful for every one. It doesn't feel like Summer until there's a bowl of beans salad in the fridge

In other gardening news, my Occasional Helper was here this morning and we worked in the terrace garden, leveling another section about six feet square using muck from the South Paddock and old hay bedding from the Peace Pavilion. And I carefully cleared away - using my pocket knife, the smallest machete in the world - all the other plants that have been growing around three little blueberry bushes purchased last year. They are still tiny bushes, but they managed to hang on through Winter and "Spring" and are really starting to grow.

I keep yawning so wide my eyes are watering - I could fall asleep at 4 in the afternoon! But I'm going to have to shake off this lethargy and try to soak Mallow's sore hoof. Mallow is unlikely to consider this is a great idea, and he's a chunky fellow with a lot of opinions, so it may not go well. Must try though, as he's been favoring a hoof for several days and two treatments with my usual hoof medications haven't helped. On to Plan C.

~~~~~

farm report

 

Carrots!

Lettuce!

Beets!

A few days with some sun, and the new raised beds are full of activity.

Dear Gardening Pals, I need advice about radishes, please. In the snap below, does the long stem below the first leaves just mean they got leggy due to all the rain, or does it mean they weren't planted deeply enough? Is that the part that should be below ground, turning into a radish? Should I be adding a little soil along the radish rows to bury the stems? 

It probably seems funny that I'm asking for help with the plant most often recommended for toddlers to plant in My First Garden, but I really don't know anything about growing them. (And I always recommend winter squash for a child's first garden.) So any advice appreciated!

~~~~~