Tag Archives: posted by Caroline

Monday’s Pupdate

 

 

 

 

 

 

Made in the Shade

If you’re walking out in the pasture on the morning side of noon, you’ll see the ewes and their lambs in their favorite shady spot.

There’s really only one phrase for this kind of sheepy relaxation.

It comes up in the opening of  Vergil’s Eclogueslentus in umbra. It’s used as a bit of an accusation, but it still comes out sounding like one of the nicest phrases. Literally, it translates as slow in the shade, but, really, made in the shade is as exact as our idiom gets.

I think of that phrase whenever I see them there in their shady spot, and, really, it’s exactly how the flock deserves to be– kicked back with their lambs, grazing the spring grass and clover, under the shade of the trees.

There is really nothing nicer. Happy Sunday, you guys.

One Week Old!

Happy one-week-old Birthday, little pups! I can’t believe it’s only been a week– it seems like they’ve been with us always!

 

 

 

 

 

 

What’s Growing in the Garden: Early May

“Hurrying down to his three-hour service, an earnest young priest had stopped to ask the old man if he knew what Good Friday was all about. ‘Good Friday?’ came the reply. ‘Good Friday be the day when the Almighty reckons we ought to get our ‘taties in.’”

– Reginald Arkell, Old Herbaceous

And if you get your potatoes in the ground by Good Friday, you should have a nice crop of new potatoes in time for Mother’s Day (Not, of course, when Easter comes late).

They’re so fine, tender, and creamy that the slightest brush with your thumb is enough to take the skins right off of them:

We also have a nice bunch of beets going. We planted them less than two months ago, and will pretty soon, I think, be drowning in (from left to right), Golden, Chioggia, and Bull’s Blood beets. They make a nice collection, don’t they?

And, to be honest with you, these are just the thinnings. We’re lifting the largest beets from the rows to make room for the smaller guys to grow.

We’ve also been enjoying a handful of bunching onions every night– as a nice garnish, or minced in risotto, or on our salads.

I know I’ve said this before, but these onions are the coolest thing ever. Once they reach maturity, the main bulb produces little daughter onionettes all around its sides. If you grow bunching onions, you will have onions forever! And nearly year-round, to boot! I recommend that you get some seeds– they are dead easy to grow. Do any of you grow bunching onions? Or onions, period?

And with that, to our lucky vegetable CSA members, all I can say is, Look Out!

And to the madly vegetable-jealous, the green with envy: maybe you’d like to come to the farm this summer and learn how all this can be yours!

The Daily Puppy

The puppies are yawning and stretching:

We cannot wait for them to open their eyes. I’ve always taken for granted the fact that you can see the newborn lambs’ and kids’ eyes– but no more!

I’m also struck by how roly-poly they are! The newest lambs sometimes look like their skins are too big for them, but these pups are chubby little salsicce Maremmani. Lucy’s keeping them quite well fed!

We all love how their ears look like they’ve been seamed shut. It will be so amazing so see them open!

They snuggle up and love one another.

And it’s always delightful to catch them in a yawn (I haven’t been able to get a photograph of it), or at least catch a glimpse of their stuck-out-tongues.

You can watch it all on Lambcam 3.

 

ETA: In the midst of writing this post, I learned that, in Australia, they’re using Maremmas to guard a colony of Little Blue Penguins. So, when you’re done thinking about puppies, think about how cool that is for a second.

LAMB of the Week: Aldrin

We’ve got a lamb who’s completely stolen all three of our hearts.

Meet Aldrin, the littlest and youngest of this year’s lambs.

Yesterday was his first day out in the pasture, and he made a fine day of it. We worried that he wouldn’t be able to keep up with his mama– and definitely not with all of the other lambs, who’re leaping like fish and running like devils– but he stuck it out admirably.

Snow, his mother, is a wonderful ewe. She protests loudly if he ever skips out of her sight, stomps her front hooves angrily if anyone– even Cini– walks between the two of them, and stands right by him, waiting impatiently, while he drinks his thrice-daily bottle.

Since we lost his sister, Armstrong, we’re keeping an extra-special watch over him, and making sure he gets lots of attention (and extra food). We spend so much time together, it’s no wonder we’re all so attached to him!

Likewise, it no wonder he’s so attached to us! He runs across the pasture as soon as he sees us, baaing all the way. Let me tell you, there’s no feeling in the world like being loved by such a sweet little lamb.

This Evening in Puppies

Whenever we poke our heads in to the barn to check on Lucy and the puppies, the pups are only ever doing one of two things.

They’re eating. Or they’re sleeping.

Sometimes, they fall asleep in the middle of eating.

And, while they’re asleep, they dream about eating.

It’s a simple life, really.

And yet, right under our noses, they’re growing and changing– their noses and paws have turned black-black, they make different noises, and their locomotive powers have greatly increased. Plus, they really have doubled in size since this past Saturday– I was holding this little guy up to take his photograph, and, wow, what a chunk!

We’re just so lucky to be here to watch it all happen. I can’t wait to see how much they’ve grown in another week’s time!

Surprised by: Oyster Mushrooms!

Not long after Zac and I inoculated that oak log with Oyster and Shiitake spores, a good friend of ours wrote to torment me.

She said that her CSA teams up with a local mushroom farm, and that, lately, she’d been enjoying the best fresh mushrooms.

And then, because she’s actually a really nice person and the sort of wonderful friend who does things like that, she sent us an Oyster Mushroom Mini-Farm in the mail. This is basically a block of super-inoculated mushroom-growing substrate (hay? sawdust? coffee grounds?) that’s guaranteed to grow.

So, we set up our mushroom farm in the corner of our garage, and more or less forgot about it.

This gently misty morning, we inspected the block of substrate, and found an exceptionally fine-looking crop of Pleurotus ostreatus.

Isn’t it gorgeous?

In other good news, after this harvest, we can expect two or three more flushes of mushrooms before the farm stops producing (I think it dries out? Or maybe the mycelium needs more substrate to feast on? Any mushroom experts? Is there a way to make sure our mushroom farm lives on?)

What I do know is that these colors, textures, and smells are completely entrancing, subtle, and fascinating.

I could have photographed them in different arrangements all morning– and, who knows, maybe mushroom arranging is the next hip thing.

For dinner, I’m thinking of miso soup, radishes shaved to translucent pink thinness, and freshly dug spring onions.

May your Monday be just a subtly-shaded and surprising, friends.

Curious Canis

“Do I know how handsome I am?”

“Well, that’s all anyone ever seems to tell me!”

A Garden Update

I really don’t know how it happened, but, suddenly, it’s been more than a month since I’ve given you all an update on the garden. There have been, well, some ups and some downs.

First of all, we have the saga of the tomatoes:

The tomatoes above are large, beautiful, flowering specimens that Zac bought from our local nursery as a present to cheer me up. Like a fool, I gambled, and, during the first week of April, set out about 50 tomato seedlings and 50 pepper seedlings.

You can guess what happened next.

After they all met their frosty demise, we figured that the only thing to do was regroup and plant more seeds. Thus, the rest of our tomatoes look like this one:

I’m also cherishing a few other warm-weather babies– we have a whole bed of the seductively-named Petit Gris de Rennes melons, arranged 3 or 4 to a hill:

In other ventures, the peas have begun to climb the garden fence (speaking of peas, this article just made me want to die):

The thinned-out lettuces are heading:

The yet-to-be-thinned lettuces are screaming to be eaten:

and, waiting in the wings, we have more of the same– we’re succession planting!

Speaking of, I’ve been enjoying the heck out of this book lately– did you know that Thomas Jefferson ordered the planting of a thimbleful of lettuce, every Monday morning?

The garlic that we’ve been wintering over is shamefully weedy, but beautiful:

Our true success story, though, is these potatoes. Zac bought a 50-lb bag of seed potatoes at our grocery store (the perks of a country grocery store are few, but seed potatoes are one of them) a few weeks ago, and, for the longest time, nothing came up.

Then, almost overnight, they erupted from their tubers:

We’ll be eating new potatoes in less than a month!

In the alium bed, we have two trenches of leeks that one of our recent farmstay guests (Hi, Emily!) helped me transplant:

and, father down, is a section of green onions which are 1) perennial and 2) bunching.

This means, basically, “lots of green onions, forever.” Nothing at all wrong with that!

The one thing that is ready to harvest (besides the lettuce, which we’re eating daily) is the French Breakfast Radishes.

But I’ll show you those beauties tomorrow, because I want to share a few recipes that go along with them. See you then!