Draft 2021

I don't care what you say, it is NOT calico!

A rainy Tuesday, a gorgeous bouquet, loving daughters, delightful day!

Since Zachary's been home from college for the summer I've been on a pie-baking binge. Last week was lemon-merengue and sour cherry. On tap for this weekend is blueberry and strawberry rhubarb, perhaps even rhubarb cream. Zachary has always been my pie-eater. While everyone else has a favorite and even one or two kinds they don't like, Zach can always be depended upon to devour whatever fruit-filled pastry I whip up. I'll never forget reading Farmer Boy when my boys were little. Finding out that Almanzo regularly had apple pie for breakfast was a a revelation for Zachary, and I must admit, a sheer delight for me! Nothing makes a mom feel more satisfied than watching her boy gobble up her baked goods...

What you see here is all that remains of the garlic I stored last fall. Actually, after last weekend's cooking, there are only about 1 1/2 bulbs left. I had a lot of garlic from my CSA last fall, and combined with a big purchase from Coyote Run Farm at October's Farm Crawl, I made it through the fall and winter using only locally produced garlic. I simply stored the bulbs on the top shelf of a kitchen cupboard, pulling off a bulb as needed. At this point, some cloves are unusable and others are a little withered, but overall, I'm pleased with the outcome. Last spring we planted garlic in our flower beds, but not until early June. The fall got away from us and we never harvested the bulbs or even took a look at their development. This spring, the garlic is growing like crazy and I've pulled some to use as fresh garlic in my cooking. I'm not sure if the bulbs will develop correctly, but it's been a fun experiment. To left, you see the garlic I bought

We chose not to go to the farmer's market Saturday. We had only just finished up 2 batches of asparagus from the last market, our own lettuce has provided us with as much salad as we could want, and I've been using rhubarb someone gave away at Michael's office. I didn't really need anything. I could have gone anyway and I'm sure I would have found plenty to buy, but the Valley Junction Farmer's Market is on Thursday. Often I prefer this market, it's late afternoon time, smaller crowds, more intimate feel. I plan to stock up on greenhouse tomatoes and more asparagus then. No, what I really needed was milk. Picket Fence Creamery milk, to be precise. So, on Sunday Michael and I drove out to Woodward, about a 35 minute drive, to stock up. We thought we were out of luck, as the shop was dark and we realized they don't keep regular Sunday hours, when the Burkhart's pulled in the drive right behind us! I purchased 10 gallons of skim milk, which should

One of Melissa's best friends turned 13 a few weeks ago. Her birthday kind of snuck up on us this year, and Melissa found herself in need of a handmade gift with only a couple of days to make it. We found a free pattern online for this nifty crocheted backpack, dashed to the store for yarn, and in two nights Melissa whipped this up. She only worked on it at night, starting at 10 p.m. or later. The second night she was up until 2 a.m. in her dash to finish. I'm hoping she'll help me make one, too, though it might be a little difficult. She thinks she crocheted in her sleep most of the time and doesn't remember much once she hit the middle stripe! And to think, only last year she couldn't read a pattern...

Earlier this week I had a hankering for asparagus quiche, so I went hunting for a recipe. Every single recipe I found, both in cookbooks and on-line, required ham or bacon. Unfortunately, I'm down to 1 package of sausage and 2 packages of spare ribs from the 1/2 hog we purchased 2 years ago. We don't eat a lot of meat. I didn't want to go to the grocery store, mainly because I only buy meat from local producers. What to do? Rely on the magic of substitutions! With a little ingenuity, a willingness to experiment, and lots of cooking experience under my belt, I set off to create an asparagus quiche recipe. Here's what I came up with. 1 lb. asparagus cut into 1 inch pieces, steamed until just tender about 1/3 cup chopped fresh spring garlic, including the greens, plucked straight out of my flower bed 4 eggs 2 T pureed oven dried tomatoes (these were in the freezer from a batch I made from our tomatoes last summer) 1/2 t coarse ground black pepper 1/2 t salt about 1 cup to

What do you do with 6 lbs. of free carrots? Make carrot cake, of course! Carrot cake is one of my husband's favorites and our "family" carrot cake recipe is one he aquired from a the mother-in-law of a good friend back when he was young and carefree. Though she passed away in the mid-'70s, she'll always be remembered in my family for her fabulous carrot cake. Esther Weitz's Carrot Cake 2 cups sugar or 1 cup honey 2 cups unbleached white flour (can substitute 1 cup whole wheat) 2 t cinnamon 2 t baking soda 2 t salt 7 oz. coconut 1 cup walnuts or pecans, chopped 2 cups carrots, grated 1 cup safflower oil (can substitute 1/2 applesauce for half the oil) 3 eggs 7 oz can unsweetened pineapple w/juice (can use fresh pineapple or substitute grated fresh apple) 2 t vanilla Mix together and bake in greased 9 x 13 pan at 350 degrees for 35-45 minutes. Frosting: 8 0z cream cheese 1 stick butter honey or powdered sugar to taste 1 t vanilla Add cream to desired consistency

Everyone here was too sick to go the farmer's market Saturday, but by Sunday afternoon Michael and I were able to run a few errands. I've started shopping at the day-old-bread store, something I used to do all the time when the kids were little. Somehow I fell out of the habit, and with my broken foot, I didn't bake nearly as much these past three months as usual. Consequently, we often ran out of bread and would grab a loaf from the grocery store. Bread prices are crazy now and I just couldn't justify spending upwards of $3 a loaf for store-bought bread. I always buy a high fiber, whole grain bread, and those tend to be the most expensive. I was delighted to discover the day-old store sells this bread, often 2 loaves for $1.50. I like to stock up with about $20-worth of bread and buns. They freeze beautifully and no one can tell they are day-old. On Sunday, our cart was loaded when I noticed a sign behind the counter offering "feed bread" for $2.50 for a larg

It's a beautiful day here in Des Moines, but a little too warm for May. Our high today is supposed to hit 84 degrees. Summer temperatures call for a cool, refreshing summer drink, but all I have in the fridge is milk, and milkshakes just seem too heavy. Once again, my freezer comes to the rescue, offering up a quart size bag of frozen strawberries. I thawed the berries just enough to break them into smaller chunks, put them in the blender with a little water and about 1 cup sugar. It took two batches to blend it all up and the result was fabulous! Thick, cold, strawberry yumminess. Just be careful to drink it slowly or you might end up with a cold headache!

What if you made a cake and nobody ate it? Above you see my entry for most-unfortunate cake. It may be the ugliest cake I've ever made. I plan to blame it on my foot. Two weeks ago I had my third visit with the podiatrist about my broken foot. The one I fractured in February. Walking. The one I re-fractured in March. Walking. This time, he gave me a walking cast. One of those massive jobbers that totally encases the foot in hard molded plastic. All that heavy molded plastic is held onto my foot and leg via more hard molded plastic and multiple velcro strips. I had to put a "lift" in my other shoe just to even out my clomping. I have to say, the device really works. It's now next to impossible to move around and hurrying is out of the question. Climbing the stairs is likely to frighten small children into believing the bogey man is indeed coming to get them. The day after aquiring this new orthopedic accessory, my son was due home from college, my daughter had an eveni

Hmm, maybe not. My experiment with homemade laundry detergent was a success, so I decided to share my accomplishment with a couple of good friends. Each pint jar holds about 8 loads-worth of detergent.

Over the past 11 years, my ego has learned to deal with a difficult situation. You see, my youngest, who just turned 12, is what you might call "finicky." Picky. Fussy. You might even call her downright persnickety when it comes to food. Gradually, however, her tastes have broadened a smidgeon, her list of "likes," though still vastly out-numbered by "dislikes," has increased, and her tact, fortunately, has taken great strides forward. We've come to an understanding; don't ask, don't tell. If I don't ask her whether she likes what I've served, she won't have to tell me the truth. So when she asked me what was for dinner one night a few weeks ago, I responded with the usual "I don't know." "Will I like it?" "Probably not." She then asked if we could have pesto, one of her favorite foods. I was glad for the suggestion and that she would actually enjoy our dinner that night. On the spur of the moment,

Photo from www.mental-hygiene.org This week my family was hit with a horrible cold virus. Sarah started first on Sunday, followed by Melissa and me on Tuesday, and Michael on Wednesday. This wasn't just the sniffles, but a full-out assault on sinuses, throats and energy levels that still has us recuperating. Most colds are miserable but don't land us in bed. This one, however, left us all but incapacitated for days. Even Michael, who never misses work for illness, called in sick three days in a row . Fortunately we fell in succession, so there was always someone to fetch orange juice, cold medicine and more Kleenex. Zachary has yet to succumb; thankfully he could still walk the dogs and make grocery store runs for supplies.This morning, while viewing the aftermath of empty Kleenex boxes, juice cartons, and bags of used tissues, I counted up the number of boxes of Kleenex we used last week. It was more than 15. I kid you not, we produced more than 15 Kleenex boxes worth of snot

These lovelies are blooming all over our yard. When we first moved here nearly 3 years ago, there were no flowers ... no landscaping ... just a scrubby yard... with lots of grass to mow . There's just something about a non-landscaped yard I simply cannot tolerate . I think it's my dad's influence, living on through me... I always think of him when planting flowers, growing veggies, seeing our little apple trees bloom ... He had a special love for hostas. I bought this little beauty last summer at the farmer's market. Of course, no yard would be complete without a healthy smattering of these...

Fresh picked eggs from our ladies... gathered in a handmade, homemade egg basket. Life is good.

Everything was going well at the kitten convention... until the papparazzi showed up... Some people just can't handle fame...

So what's the big deal about eating local? I think I've always wished I lived on an acreage, but we never seemed ready or able to make such a move. I feel such a loss now that my kids will never have that experience, especially since my dad died nearly 5 years ago and my mom sold their acreage and moved to town. Being on a farm was a large part of my childhood, though I was only a summer visitor to my grandma's farm in Iowa. Most of my childhood was spent in suburban Long Island, New York, about as far away from Iowa farmland as you can get! I loved picking raspberries to go with ice cream after haying, picking apples from the orchard, helping my cousin gather eggs, holding the baby chicks, and eating my grandma's homemade apple pies and applesauce. Nothing tasted better than the catfish my uncle caught in his ponds, fried up that very same day. My dad was a horticulturist and we always had a garden of some sort. Often it wasn't in our own yard, but in a patch he

Life renewed Nature's promise that summer's bounty is just around the corner Enjoy

After the Farmer's Market on Saturday, Michael made us an incredible meal of breakfast burritos. He sauteed a little local sausage, onions and peppers, salt and pepper, then scrambled in our own eggs. Wrapped up in a whole wheat tortilla with a side of fresh strawberries - yum! There's a stand at the Farmer's Market that sells breakfast burritos, though I've never seen it. I go to the market on a mission: to gather locally grown fruits and veggies for home-cooked meals. An article in today's paper said a breakfast burrito at the market costs $4.50. Wow. I'm so glad Michael cooked these up from scratch for us! Oh, and they weren't blurry in real life.

I was only somewhat successful in my quest for a handmade Christmas this year. Don't get me wrong, many handmade and heartfelt gifts were exchanged amongst and between my family. It's my poor friends who bore the brunt of my "handmade" holiday. I felt proud of the jams, pickles and other homemade goodies I gave. Each jar was covered with a circle of fabricin an old-fashioned print and tied with a bow. The jars were artfully arranged in a small, homey basket, also adorned with a bow. Wish I'd taken a picture. No, the problem was with my crocheting. One dear friend received a crocheted throw in bright colors that match her personality. That gift was relatively successful, though on a recent visit I noticed I''ll need to re-sew some of the granny squares together. Again, no photo. But it was my dear friend Chris who was the recipient of the most disastrous gift I've ever given. I found a free pattern for an "urban wrap," a long, somewhat tailore