Making Salsa

We've just come off of two beautiful weeks of Autumn glory. The days were sunny and crisp, rosying my cheeks and warming my heart. It was a great time to work outside and enjoy the colour and the accomplishment. Sometimes life is just like biting into an apple.

Yesterday, the inevitable weather temper tantrum happened and kept me inside. Being in a warm home with a wood fire going made up for the rain and gusty winds. Looking outside at the flash of red in the old maple by the house turned the sky from a depressing grey curtain of cloud into a perfect backdrop

Well, if I can't be outside in the Autumn air with its indescribable crispness, I'll be in the kitchen, experiencing the 'other' Autumn smell as pumpkins, apples or tomatoes are processed for the winter. A lot of baking happens in the fall here at the DaM Farm. But today I decided to make salsa. I always can my tomatoes first then if there's any left over, I'll make salsa. It was a great year for my tomatoes and I harvested about 11 - 12 bushels (listen to me, talking farmer talk - bushels!) so there was lots of extras. This is the third year I've made it but it's the first year I've done it from scratch. I used a package salsa canning mix previously. I looked around at various recipes and decided on a fairly simple one to start with, tomatoes, onions, garlic, cilantro and dried crushed red pepper. One of the recipes suggested that draining the tomatoes after cutting would make a thicker salsa. I love thick salsa and did find my salsa a bit on the runny side so I did that. I kept all the juice that I drained out and made tomato juice. I figure it will be great to add as liquid to the crock pot for roasts stews and making chicken or rabbit stock. I still have a load of tomatoes left so I will be making another batch of salsa. We love it here, 24 bottles is not too much at all.

Little Chick Update

After doing the Chicken coop update, I realized there were a few things that I mentioned but hadn't followed up for a while. So I thought I'd start updating some of them starting with the little chick in the incubator that could not get out of his shell on his own.

It seemed this little chick was doomed from the start, he couldn't even get out of his own shell. Everything I read said that helping a chick out of the egg was not a great idea because if the chick is not strong enough to manage to get out on his own, he wouldn't survive anyway. Or so the theory goes. I fully intended to follow this advice, but the theory did not take into account the chick peeping all day long. This chick cracked his shell in the morning and started peeping. After a few hours of this, I couldn't just stand by and listen to him anymore; he was stuck and scared so I helped him out. He was wobbly and certainly a little different than the other chicks so I secluded him for a few days as he got his feet under him. I started calling him Tiny Tim.

After a few days, he was pretty steady on his feet so I put him with all the other chicks. Being the smallest in the bunch, he learned to stand up for himself and be insistent about getting food and water. None of the other chicks picked on him, they just tended to run over him in their rush for food. He'd just get right back up and join in at the feeding dish. Things seemed to be working out for him.

Once the chicks were too big for the brooder, I moved them into the vacant rabbit colonies in the chicken coop. Everybody thrived. I could always spot Tiny Tim because he was smaller than the rest. No matter, he was growing and developing at his own pace and could keep up with the rest. I always make a point of picking up and holding the chicks so they'd become accustomed to human touch, I must admit Tiny Tim got more than his fair share of petting. Once they got old enough, I cut a little hole in the chick area wall to the main coop. That way, the more adventurous ones could go and mingle but still be able to get back to their safe area if any of the big chickens decided to be morons. And that's where poor Tiny Tim got himself into a world of trouble.

In the chicken coup, the main flock had 21 previously hatched chicks about 2 months older than the incubator chicks. Several of the young roosters started hanging out together and developed a real gang mentality. All that was missing were cigarettes hanging out of their little beaks and cans of spray paint. Generally the two older roosters kept everything under control. But the J.D.s (juvenile delinquents) were opportunistic and if the occasion would arise, they'd give grief to any chicken in their line of fire. I started counting down to when I could put those three into the freezer, a first for me.

`

I never thought for a moment that Tiny Tim would venture out of the safe area. I should have known better; his determination and bravery was apparent from the day I helped him out; the bird was a fighter. So the poor little thing went out into the big old coop and the rotten roosters were all over him. Don noticed the commotion when he was doing some outside work. He started yelling for me and finally I heard him. I found doing his best to keep the roosters away from poor Tiny Tim as he cowered under a board. Not only did Tiny Tim venture out into the coop, he managed to get outside into the pasture. Once out there, I guess he lost his bearings and couldn't figure out how to get back inside, the J.D.s took advantage of the situation. I picked him up and Don was sure the chick would need to be put down. He was beat up. I took him inside and examined him. The J.D.s must have chased him into a corner and pecked at him when he couldn't escape. I make a habit of going out every hour when new chicks are venturing out so I knew this incident was less than 15 minutes old. They sure did a number on him in that short time, though. All his feathers on his lower back were gone and he was missing a patch of skin. I washed him off as gently as I could with warm water. I kept him in a cat carrier in the kitchen. For the first day, he was very quiet and didn't do much. The next he started moving around and eating. By the fourth day he was giving his opinion on everything and really enjoyed helping me sweep. His wounds healed well and quickly. I suppose it was one of those cases of looking a lot worse than it really was.

`

When he was healed, perky and extremely noisy, I brought him out to the coop again. I put him with three other chicks a hen had a few before in the other vacant rabbit colony. At first I kept him in a cage in the area. After everybody got used to each other, I opened the cage door for a bit. After a while, all four were great friends. Tiny Tim now was about 4 months old and was obviously a hen so I changed her name from Tiny Tim to Timbitts.

When the four chicks were old enough, I put them in the main coop. The J.D.s had gone off to their proper place and were now called Sunday Dinner. Chickens have quite the social order and there is a little jostling as hens learn their place in their community. The older hens tend to be higher up in the hierarchy and don't mind reminding the younger ones of this fact. Timbitts figured out how to beat the system by hanging with our main rooster, Captain Morgan. He never let the chickens squabble for long and the hens knew better to start the old dominance game anywhere near him. Captain Morgan also seemed to have a soft spot for Timbitts so the other hens gave her no big problems.

I tagged Timbitts with my version of a leg ring, a plastic electricians tie, just so I could spot her easily. I didn't need to, Timbitts stands out in any crowd. It didn't hurt that she managed to twist her toe and now it's crooked so that's a dead give away. The toe doesn't bother her and she doesn't limp. She seems to be having a great time out there and enjoys her life. She is way past due to start laying and she hasn't. I don't care, she's a little chick that defied the odds and a prime example of why 'livestock' should be redefined. She's staying :).

Timbitts with two of her buddies sharing scratch.

A Frosty Flight of Fancy

Around this time of year, I start waiting for the first frost. I know it's coming, it's just a matter of time. Almost everything in my garden can tolerate one light frost but once that happens, whatever's left out in garden, usually tomatoes, zucchini and pumpkins need to come in or I'll lose them. Carrots tolerate frost pretty well so they'll come in last. I've been known to pick carrots right into November. As long as they're in before the first snow.

I begin listening for frost warnings on the radio and watch Autumns' touch in my garden; her tattle-tale signs are everywhere. The most delicate plants have edges bleached musty white as the nights become too cold for them. The green fronds of the carrots burnish orange embers at their tips. I know Autumn is whispering, I hear her voice on the winds as Autumn tells them of their new purpose. Winds move through the branches, coldly shaking weak and fragile leaves from the trees. Things pale in the winds' cooling breath. The sky is pale, the sun is pale, the grass loses its green vibrancy. The colour has faded. But before Autumn splatters all hues of red, yellow, orange and brown on the earth, the colour needs to drain even more.

Autumn will walk at night, looking and selecting what will be colored and when. She'll dress the landscape as she dresses herself; in all tones of yellow, orange and brown. She'll lean over the ground, her long, red hair flowing down. With a slender white hand she touches the earth and a shiver runs over the ground. She's brought the frost. And a warning, "Get ready. Prepare what you need to stay warm, fed and safe. My father Winter is coming and he is not a gentle nor fair man." Autumn helps us become strong because Winter will take the weak
`
In the morning, the shiver Autumn brought crunches under my feet as I walk on the stiff grass. The first hard frost is here. As the sun touches the earth and the trees' shadows move away slowly through the day, the frost will vanish. But the results will remain. Whitened pumpkin leaves and black tomato plants protect their fruit for the last time. The last of the crop needs to come in and the garden will be put to bed. The season will end with a blanket of snow.

`

Thanks for the warning, Autumn. Thanks for giving me just a little more time to finish the harvest. While your touch is cold, your colours are warm. Now I wait for them, delighting in their vibrancy and the crispness. Stay as long as you want, don't hurry away. I'm in no rush to see your father again.
`

Frost vanishing from my garden in the sun's early light.

Even the roof of the chicken coop gets a touch of frost at its edges.

Chicken Coop Update

Someone who reads my blog mentioned that they never saw any pictures of the chicken coop bunny barn combo we built last year. Oops. There's a couple of reason for that. One: I forgot. Two: It took us a year to get around to painting it so it was only really completed this summer. A special thanks for Derek for helping out while he was here on vacation; Kipling said it best, "You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din".

The coop is functional and the roof doesn't leak so I'm happy. We put on a high peak roof to help keep the coop cool in the summer. It doesn't seem to make a great deal of difference, if it's 28C outside, it's 28C in the coop but at least it doesn't get any higher than the outside temp. In the fall, Don lays down plywood on the rafters and we store our hay and straw up there. It's convenient and we hope it helps a little to keep warmth in during bitter cold spells. There's at least one window or windowed door on each side of the coop. The windows and doors keep it bright in the winter and hopefully a little warmer. The trees leaf up in the summer and block the sun so it doesn't absolutely bake. We can remove the windows, there's screen to keep the bugs out and hardware wire on top of the screen to keep the raccoons out. Not that I've ever seen a raccoon around, but I don't want to find out they're here by walking into a coop of dead chickens. I had a friend who lost her whole flock to raccoons, she said it was carnage. Bloody bodies everywhere and all the heads were missing. Like to avoid that, if I could. In addition to the windows, there's a few vents for air flow in the winter.

As far as being able to house the rabbits year round, the coop fails miserably. I ended up bringing the rabbits in because I needed the colonies for broody hens and raising chicks. I'm thinking...may-be...next year... of building ~gasp~ another small barn best suited for indoor colonies. Having the rabbits inside isn't a big deal. The basement has 3 north windows, is airy and bright. We run a dehumidifier in the summer so it's not damp. I use woodstove pellets as litter and there's no smell so having the rabbits inside is very workable. And it's convenient, no trucking outside in all kinds of weather. But if they were outside, I could build them a really large outside pen and that would certainly be nice for them. So I'm still thinking, may-be...next year... What's that line from the old movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid? "You just keep thinking Butch. That's what you're good at."

A Sea of Pumpkins

It's definitely going to be a bumper crop of pumpkins this year. The vines in the above picture stretch out at least 20 feet. There's absolutely no way I can wade through that, I'll wait till after the first frost to harvest. Once the leaves shrivel, it should be much easier to navigate.

All the pumpkin plants are from seeds that I collected last year from my crop. This seed collecting is turning out to be pretty good, almost a no-brainer actually. I wonder why I always thought I should by my seeds in packages?

I grew two types of pumpkins last year. 'Sugar Pies' are a smaller pumpkin, they're just the right size to feed to the chickens. Last winter, the chickens really enjoyed still warm baked pumpkins. I didn't even have to take the entrails (yes, I know that's not the right word for pumpkin innards but that's what it looks like) out, just cut the pumpkin in half, throw it in the oven and I'm done. The other type of pumpkin was the typical larger good for carving Halloween pumpkin. When I saved the seeds, I made sure to separate and label the different seeds. It turns out that it was probably not necessary. Some of the seeds would likely be hybrids of the two pumpkin types. I would imagine after a couple of years of collecting my own seeds, I will start getting just one size.

The pumpkins seem to be turning early this year. By mid August, I was seen flashes of orange already. They do well planted on the edge of the garden so the vines can stretch out over the grass instead of over-running the other plants. Mind you, I did have get a few vines off the tomato teepees and get them going the right way. All in all, I think it's a good idea to plant them on the garden border.

pumpkin taken Aug. 10

Heavy Rain

What a difference a deluge makes. The river by the end of the summer is a weary, nonchalant thing. It meanders, it pokes along, doesn't seem to take an interest in anything. Birds come and fish, tourists take pictures, fish jump and the water continues to trickle over dam much like a leaky faucet. It's uninterested and, for the most part, it's uninteresting. The dam stands solidly, dark and bored.

Then we get a heavy rain, usually it's the remnants of some post hurricane or tropical storm. That perks the dam up. All of a sudden, it's got more water than it can handle. I can hear the water thunder over it in a continuous and rhythmic drone. Under the dull roar and splashes, the rhythmic drone sounds like heartbeat. And all the dam was made to do, hold the water back, is pushed to its limit. While the water will not be held back, the dam stand firm. The river expands and a new edge is made. The pristine clear water, tinted only by the sky's reflection turns a frothy red as the river bed churns.

After two or three days, the water is spent and the creek goes back to its placid self. The dam lets a trickle of water over its edge. It has done its job, the houses and the road nearby were safe from flood water.

Before And After Hurricane Danny.

Results of the Potato Project

Last spring, I decided to try to grow potatoes in a different way than usual. I called it the potato project. That's a picture of the total harvest. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, well I only need one word: Dismal.

I ended up putting on three tires, covering up the plants just so the tips, about 4 - 5 inches showed. Everything looked great. Then a week or so ago, I noticed one of the plants just wilted and died. Ominous. So I took it out and while I was all mucky anyway, decided to dig around in the dirt and see if I could feel any potatoes. I dug two tires deep, nary a tater; nada, zilch, zero, none. I started thinking this wasn't going to work out as well as hoped. A couple of days later, another plant just withered and died. OK, there's something going on. I figured I might as well pull up the plants and gather whatever potatoes there were.

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The measly amount of potatoes I found were in the bottom tire only and they were all red potatoes. Nothing in the other two. Soooo the theory needs a little work or I did something wrong. I'm guessing I did something wrong. I did plant late and I did over crowd. Maybe that had something to do with it. I think I'd like to try again because the plants were safe from the dreaded potato bug. I'm thinking may-be I'll just use two tires stacked to start and see if they'll do better. On the upside, the potatoes did taste great.