Somewhere between Labor and Columbus Day
The sweltering heat of this horrible dry summer seems to have finally ended. The hounds have returned from hiding out in the dirt under the truck, galloping around the yard. Two of the jars of B & B pickles have taken flight to Oregon, along with jars of Muscadong Figbarb, peach and muscadine jam.
When e was here last week, she helped to make the muscadine jam by picking, cooking and straining the fruit. The Muscadong Figbarb jam was a combination of muscadine, scuppernong, fig and rubarb. Didn't have enough of any one of them, but altogether, they make a fine jam. And anytime the Wookie wants a jar of peach jam, she only needs to call. She can even get a taste of the B & B pickles-- decanted into a half-pint jar.
Yesterday I decided to dig around and see what was growing in the way of sweet potatoes. I unearthed one, which was in the shape of an "L", roughly the configuration, color and texture of the large intestine of a water buffalo, (or the texture I would imagine the large intestine of a water buffalo to have, since I haven't had any actual experience with the innards of buffaloes, water or otherwise). So I washed it, wrapped it in foil and cooked it until it was all mushy. Now, I don't know about you, but I can't eat a sweet potato without thinking of Yula Varner, of course. And for those of you who haven't read Faulkner, you ought to be ashamed. It was just fine, too, after a dab of butter and a sprinkle of sea salt. I couldn't eat more than a small piece, though, so it's waiting for me in the refrigerator. There are probably lots of them out there, too. So I'll probably take another try at making Sweet Potato Pie the way my SU remembers it being. I know it's a futile endeavor, since his mom probably used canned sweet potatoes to make it, but oh well.
Interesting week, so far. Long time coming I suppose. Can only hope that the cure will be successful and long-lasting.
But I digress.
This weekend will be time to turn over the garden and plant collards for New Years. Maybe I'll throw in a little lettuce, what with global warming. It got cool enough yesterday that I thought I should fill up the bird feeders. Soon I'll have to bring my father's spider plants in for the rest of the winter. They have done very well this summer on the back porch with a good soaking every Sunday. This weekend, I'll repair the remaining broken bird feeders. One or two have broken rope hangers; the rest have suffered from the enthusiasm of the squirrels-- who can't seem to patiently extract a seed or two at a time, no! They have to rip the walls down.
When e was here last week, she helped to make the muscadine jam by picking, cooking and straining the fruit. The Muscadong Figbarb jam was a combination of muscadine, scuppernong, fig and rubarb. Didn't have enough of any one of them, but altogether, they make a fine jam. And anytime the Wookie wants a jar of peach jam, she only needs to call. She can even get a taste of the B & B pickles-- decanted into a half-pint jar.
Yesterday I decided to dig around and see what was growing in the way of sweet potatoes. I unearthed one, which was in the shape of an "L", roughly the configuration, color and texture of the large intestine of a water buffalo, (or the texture I would imagine the large intestine of a water buffalo to have, since I haven't had any actual experience with the innards of buffaloes, water or otherwise). So I washed it, wrapped it in foil and cooked it until it was all mushy. Now, I don't know about you, but I can't eat a sweet potato without thinking of Yula Varner, of course. And for those of you who haven't read Faulkner, you ought to be ashamed. It was just fine, too, after a dab of butter and a sprinkle of sea salt. I couldn't eat more than a small piece, though, so it's waiting for me in the refrigerator. There are probably lots of them out there, too. So I'll probably take another try at making Sweet Potato Pie the way my SU remembers it being. I know it's a futile endeavor, since his mom probably used canned sweet potatoes to make it, but oh well.
Interesting week, so far. Long time coming I suppose. Can only hope that the cure will be successful and long-lasting.
But I digress.
This weekend will be time to turn over the garden and plant collards for New Years. Maybe I'll throw in a little lettuce, what with global warming. It got cool enough yesterday that I thought I should fill up the bird feeders. Soon I'll have to bring my father's spider plants in for the rest of the winter. They have done very well this summer on the back porch with a good soaking every Sunday. This weekend, I'll repair the remaining broken bird feeders. One or two have broken rope hangers; the rest have suffered from the enthusiasm of the squirrels-- who can't seem to patiently extract a seed or two at a time, no! They have to rip the walls down.
posted by Merrrrde at 8:50 PM
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