The Culvert

The Culvert - it sounds somewhat like the title to a horror movie, however, it was just another chapter in our life at Muddy Acres. The old culvert over which we need to drive to gain entrance to our property was a bit under-sized, considering the farm equipment that needs to gain access to our fields. We had been meaning to up-grade this detail for quite some time, and this September we had our opportunity.

















First we needed to remove the old drain pipe. This task proved quite easy, given Eric's ability with the back-hoe. I was the unlucky soul who got to stand knee-deep in the mud. We were left with an open ditch, not quite a comforting thought, since we had no access to our driveway and needed to park our cars at our neighbour's place.

This is what things looked like at the end of the first day:

















Thankfully, the sun was shining just like the forecast said it would, and we were able to place in the new, larger drain pipe. At some point, Eric was digging, asking me, "How much deeper do I have to go?", at which point I got very worried, mainly because I had no clue! I thought he had this figured out! Our measuring method wasn't very sophisticated, but it worked. We just took a long piece of wood and marked it with our desired depth, and yours truly, donning her best pair of rubber boots (a country girl can't own too many pairs of rubber boots!) waded into the muck and gauged the depth. ("Yes, dear, the mud is wallowing in over the top of my boots. I think you can stop digging now!")

We were precise, too, because when the new pipe was lowered in, we had a good fit with nice drainage.






















We lined the base with some geo-textile membrane, probably over-kill, but we had some left over from our patio-building exploits, and lowered the pipe into the ground using chains and the back-hoe. We had 2 sections of pipe, since we couldn't get one the full length, so we had to make a join using a huge gasket specially made for the pipe. The gasket is made of hard plastic and joins at the top with 2 huge ties. It is ridged and lines up with 2 sections of ridges on either side of each piece, and it was a bit of a challenge to line everything up properly, but we managed without too many obsceneties. I had my doubts about the solidity of the gasket, but it was a seamless join and everything fitted together perfectly. Once the join was made, Eric was able to back-fill with the earth he excavated, and the ending of yet another project was celebrated. (And once again, when people asked how we spent the weekend, we just look at each other and grin: you had to be there to understand).

Granola People

I whole-heartedly accept the title of Granola Person. Along with the distinction comes an obligation to offer up a great bowl of granola, homemade, of course. My mother's been making granola since the dawn of time, so the concept is not new to me. However, when people come into the house and comment on the smell of freshly baked granola with the remark, "I didn't know you could make your own granola", this is the recipe I send them home with.

Naturally, feel free to experiment, it's only granola, after all. The ingredients are inexpensive, the end result totally satisfying, so you really have no good reason not to try this versatile breakfast staple.

In fact I dare you to leave it alone while it cools. I can always be found with a spoon in my hand, hoovering it up right from the cookie sheet while it cools, it's that good.

Granola

8 cups regular rolled oats (not quick or instant oats, but the real kind)
1½ cups firmly packed brown sugar
1½ cups wheat germ
½ cup sesame, sunflower or other seeds
½ cup coconut, or nuts, or both
½ cup wheat bran
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup vegetable oil
3/4 cup honey
2 teaspoons vanilla

Raisins and other chopped or dried fruits such as cranberries and apricots

Preheat oven to 325° F.

In a large bowl add all dry ingredients except raisins and dried fruits. Stir to blend.

In a saucepan, heat oil, honey and vanilla until bubbling. Pour over dry ingredients in bowl, and mix thoroughly.




Divide this mixture evenly between two lightly greased 10" x 15" rimmed baking sheets.

Bake about 20 minutes or until coconut is lightly browned.

Remove from oven and stir several times during cooling to prevent sticking.

When cool, add raisins or other dried fruits.

Store in an airtight container.

Yield: about 16 cups

Where did the summer go?

Here we are in early September. The sun is setting at 7:30 and by 8:00, it's dark. What's more, it finally became warm about mid-August, with a run of nice, sunny days that lasted about 3 weeks. The good news is our corn is growing at a record pace, and providing we don't have any frost, the harvest should be a good one. I'd say the corn is well over 8 feet tall, and should be cut the first week of October, so we still have a ways to go. (And the bad news is we had the rainiest summer on record.) We took lots of pictures of clouds and storms rolling in...


















Our swallows had a second litter, for lack of a better ornithological term. I don't know where I was last time (here but not watching?), but this was the first time I really observed them, and it was a riot. Mom and Dad trying to egg on (pardon the pun) the little swallows in their flying manoeuvers, gliding from beam to beam in the barn, and landing with the most ungraceful crashes imaginable. An absolute scream to watch. Within 4 days, the little ones with their stubby tails were out and flying around, virtually indistinguishable from their parents in the air, save for their shorter tails. They would sit on the power lines and chirp away at one another, and then suddenly, they were gone for the season. I hope they make it south to their winter migration grounds, and next year we'll leave the barn doors wide open for their return.


















Our summer beautification project entailed pulling up our patio tiles, excavating 12 inches of pure clay to build a 13' by 15' slate patio and 40' long walk-way to the front door. The slate market in Quebec has taken a bit of a turn in the past few months, and prices have nearly tripled, ergo the project is not completed yet, since we're now sourcing Vermont slate and trying to find a supplier who can supply us with everything we need: indoor 12" x 12" tiles, outdoor slabs, 1" thick and 12" x 24" long, as well as 3 front steps and roofing tiles for the new entrance. We'd rather not pay 4 different suppliers 4 exorbitant transportation charges if we only need to pay it once. Hence we're in a holding pattern with yet another incomplete project on our hands, but it makes life interesting, and keeps the passers-by wondering...

We made a 12" base of 3/4" gravel, and lined our excavated base with a geo-textile membrane to prevent the gravel from disappearing into the clay through repeated thaw and freezing cycles. We also put in a french drain that is about 50 feet long and drains to our ditch. Again, excavating about 16" deep and using a 1% grade for optimal drainage, a job like this cannot be done without the help of a backhoe. Thankfully, our John Deere TLB (Tractor, Loader, Backhoe) 110 makes life much easier. We started with a model 4310, however, it was traded in for the bigger model 2 years ago, no regrets there. Who doesn't need more power? The model 4310 would have been perfect if not for all of our digging projects, and by the time our drainage projects are completed, we could probably be consultants.


















We had the rainiest summer, there were literally weeks on end where weeding the garden proved prohibitive (read: I hate getting wet), so things got a bit over grown. Note to self: Turban squash are not worth it, Atlantic Giant Pumpkins are named Giant for a reason, and really, one zucchini plant is enough. Remember to stake the peppers (wow, what a summer for them...) and keep things in check by weeding weeding and weeding some more. Right now I am letting the Atlantic Giant Pumpkins take over and won't make the same mistake again next year. I planted 25 mature strawberry plants I received from a farmer who wanted to till them under, and they are growing strong and healthy, already making runners that I can plant next spring. I planted them in a weed-barrier, so here's to hoping my weeding chores will be limited next year. Maybe I should plant EVERYTHING in a weed barrier and save myself some time...I'll weigh the options and let you know next summer. In a perfect world, I'd have some kind of edging around the beds to prevent the weeds from encroaching, because the plantain and dandelions, thistles and what-not are literally taking over unless I beat them into submission with my spade. For now, I've decided to recycle the patio tiles we pulled up, and use them as a path between the beds. This will keep things tidier and easier to maintain.

Our old hag cat Schatzie is pushing 21 or 22, maybe even more, and is starting to wind down a bit. Her kidneys are tiny, and she's on antibiotics for a suspected bladder infection (ever tried to get a cat to pee into a cup?), and although she's doing better now, I have her under a close watch and on lots of petting-therapy. Every time I walk by her and don't stop to pet her, I hear about it with a croaky, demanding meow. Pet me, pet me, pet me is this cat's mission statement. We're not sure about her age because we only inherited her 3-and-a-half years ago when our neighbour died, but for sure she's been around in the seven years we've been here, and the previous house-owners can vouch for the 14 years before that. Our new neighbour wanted to take her and her son, Baby Grey, to the SPCA, but let's face it, people don't adopt 20 year old cats, so we took both cats in as a way to honour our late neighbour's memory. They were both so shy, like little grey shadows, and although Baby Grey still lives outside in the barn, Schatzie showed interested in becoming a pampered indoor cat, and inside is where she now dwells. Only on the sunniest of days does she venture to the front door and outside for a walk in the lawn, always under our watchful eye, a far cry from her life as a shop cat who spent only the coldest nights indoors in her previous incarnation. She's a bony bag of fur, and we love her.






















This sunflower was self-seeded from the bird seed I put out last winter. I have collection of sunflower seed packets that I keep meaning to plant, but next year I will make a point to plant them in a good location. We had a huge field of sunflowers near our house, and I always meant to take a picture, however when the thought occurred to me, it was either raining, or Eric had the camera with him. There's always next year for that, too.

On our fall agenda is to finish the slate patio and path, (pleasepleaseplease, let this project be complete before winter), and install a new drain pipe where our driveway meets the road, as well as plant our 120 little pine trees before the deep freeze starts. I also want to get some garlic into the ground for next year. There's never a shortage of things to do. Part of me loves the winter, because our world revolves around the inside of the house (read: within a 10 foot radius of the wood stove, in my case), and things seem much more controlled and confined, but summer's really where it's at, even if the days of toiling outside are long. I don't think we'd have it any other way.

The Barn

Our post-and-beam barn was built around 1860, given the construction style of the rafters. They were built using an open mortise and tenon style of joining the wood, and from this we can estimate the date. Originally, the roof was cedar shake, however it had been re-done about 50 years ago with metal, half of which we replaced last year.



In the 1930's, when dairy farming came into vogue in Quebec, many farms were modified to include a milking area, and most of the farms in this region were modified exactly like ours. Originally, the view from the side of the barn below would have been symmetrical, and we will be restoring the barn to its original state over the next few years. This means tearing down the addition on the right of the picture below, approximately where the vine is. The original exterior wall is located within the addition, and after demolition, it will be the outside wall again.



The only thing we are waiting for are hand-workers who are able to make repairs to the post-and-beam structure of the barn. Before we tear anything down, we need to ensure the structural integrity of the barn. We hope to have someone do this work before the end of 2008. Then we will be able to demolish the addition for the cows, and line up the roofers to put on the new roof on the south side of the barn. This work should be done over the next 2 years or so.

The barn still needs a lot of TLC, and with all the work we need to do in the house and outside, the jobs are in queue depending on our time, the weather, availability of workers, and also budget, not necessarily in that order. Trying to synchronize these factors is a bit like waiting for planetary alignment. But slowly, things are getting done and the old barn is in much better shape than the majority of barns which are falling apart in our area. After every major storm that goes through the region, one less barn can be found on the landscape. Our barn should be on the horizon for many years to come.

The Long View

I read a book on Swedish lifestyle recently, and how the Swedes value an unobstructed long view. The Swedes would love Quebec. We can view sunrises and sunsets from our house, so I guess we struck pay-dirt where "the long view" is concerned. I have named the window in the kitchen that overlooks the barn my "wide screen TV". People cannot fathom that we survive without cable, but there you have it, it can be done and we are living proof.

Grab a chair, pour yourself a tea, and check out what's on our very own reality show:



There's something different on every minute.

The Long View also applies to my philosophy. My yoga and meditation teachers (so that's what she does all day long...) remind us to be "in the present", but it's about the future, non? It's about where our work will take us, the pay-off, the ultimate goal.

Of course, this philosophy applies primarily to tasks and chores that are back-breaking and frustrating. Removing an old stone-lined road that meandered to nowhere was one of those recent projects where we had to look forward and remind ourselves that this chore, too, would end. We had to stop every few moments to watch the birds, pick up a frog, pet a cat or dog, and watch the sky.


This is how we came to spend a few weeks in the early spring (when the weather permitted) removing several tons of 1) gravel, 2) old waste concrete and 3) field stones which made up the bulk of the "stone road" as we came to call it. The gravel was segregated and is kept for future drainage projects; the waste concrete was hauled to our municipal dump by the tractor-bucket load and will be used around the municipality for shore-reclamation projects, since much of our municipality lies along the shore of the Saint-Lawrence river, and all remaining stones were piled up on one side of the barn for future projects, a stone fence, perhaps?



All said and done, I must confess to a pet peeve I have. Don't, and I mean DON'T ever bury concrete as a means of disposal. It will come back to haunt you, and if not you, then future generations. Do the responsible thing and GET RID OF IT!

The land this stone road meandered through has now been plowed, and will be planted next spring with wheat.


It's helpful to have neighbours with a huge inventory of farming equipment! Here our neighbour's son, quite possibly the coolest farmer around, showed up one evening with his aviator sunglasses and straw cowboy hat, and I immediately dubbed him the "urban farmer" for his innate fashion sense. When JL isn't helping milk cows, weld, repair electronics (just a handful of farm chores), he jams with his band. I just love country kids. There's not a lot they can't do. Eric rode in the cab with JL, and somehow I got stuck with the task of removing remaining rocks as they were churned up by the harrow. It wasn't all bad; when the job was done, we drove into town for an ice cream. (No, we didn't take the tractor).

As it was, with every torrential rain, more stone and concrete was exposed. We removed two more front-loader buckets with concrete and stone, and expect even more after next spring's plowing.

The barn swallows have taken their place in the barn again, and the babies have recently hatched. I found the tiny pinkie-fingernail-sized eggshells on the ground, mottled brown and white. I haven't done a head count, because I don't really want to know if one goes missing, albeit I do go into the barn and make sure no babies have fallen from the nest. Generally, there is always a cat or two on my tail, and I am sure they'd love a baby swallow as an appetizer. Hence, no head count.

Our corn was planted at the end of May, and by the first week in June, the first little rows of green appeared. The corn is now hip-high, and let's hope the weather cooperates some more.



When the hay gets cut and baled on our neighbouring fields, I am always praying that 1) the wind's not blowing in our general direction, and 2) if it is, I am home to close the windows before every surface in our house gets coated in dust.

These 2 little guys had the right idea: they had front row seats and were enthralled in watching the baler poop out bale after bale.


Have a wonderful summer, and remember, it's all about the Long View.

French Market Bag

Okay. So it’s taken me nearly four years to finish this bag. I base that loosely on the date on the bottom of the pattern I printed up from Knitty.com – November 19, 2004.

But don’t go calling me a procrastinator just yet – I was hung up on the Kitchener stitch I needed to graft the handles together. After a few missed attempts, I turned to YouTube and watched a video from the TheKnitWitch who explained things in terms that finally made sense, and voilà, the French Market Bag was finally complete!

I made a few modifications, like centering the handles over the front and the back of the bag and knitting up the sides of the bag until they were 10” high.

Bag pre-felting:

Bag post-felting:

I put it in the washing machine on a hot cycle with a bath towel, and it took about 40 minutes on the regular wash cycle until it was felted to my liking.

If I’d make another, I’d make it even taller, probably about 14”, and felt the dickens out of it again. As it was, this bag took the better part of 6 skeins of Kureyon in colour 149. Also, I’d make sure both handles were the same colour, one of mine is grey and the other sort of oatmeal. I swear it didn’t dawn on me until I saw the finished product.

All told, I am happy with the end result.

Yummm, Pretzels!

I don't know many people who are immune to the charms of a freshly baked pretzel, or should I say pretzels, because you can't just have one. These pretzels are pre-cooked in boiling water to which baking soda has been added, so you're dealing with a reactive solution that should not come in contact with aluminum. Be safe and use stainless utensils.

Pretzels

2 teaspoons active dry yeast
1 teaspoon sugar
1½ cup warm water, about 120ºF
1 tablespoon oil
4 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt

1 egg, beaten (for egg wash, do not add to dough!)

Coarse sea salt, for sprinkling

To make yeast dough:

Dissolve sugar in ½ cup warm water, sprinkle the yeast on top, and let this rise for 10 minutes.

Put three cups flour in mixer, add salt and mix. When yeast mixture is ready, stir it with a fork and add this along with remaining 1 cup warm water and oil to mixer. (I always use the paddle attachment for this step.) Slowly add remaining flour to mix, keeping in mind you might or might not need all of the flour, so add it slowly. Changing over to the kneading attachment, I let the machine knead the dough to the proper consistency. Occasionally, I take the dough out of the bowl, and give it a few good kneads on the counter; this tells me if I need more flour or not, rather than rely on the appearance of the dough in the bowl.

When the dough has reached the desired consistency, place it in a greased, covered bowl until doubled in size. Let the rising take place in a warm area of your kitchen. This rising usually takes an hour.

Punch down dough and separate into 8 pieces. (I cut my ball of dough like I would a pie - I find this the easiest way to divide the dough into even pieces.)

Pretzels are formed like this:

Roll out each piece of dough to about 20” long

Cross over ends, twisting them as above.

Fold up twisted ends as shown.

Let the pretzels rise again on parchment-lined baking sheets for about 15 minutes before boiling.

You will now prepare your boiling mixture: fill a large non-reactive pot with water and bring to a boil. Add 2 tablespoons baking soda and let the soda dissolve.

Add the pretzels to boiling water in small batches, say 2 or 3 at a time, turning each pretzel over once, for a total time of about 1 to 2 minutes. The water doesn't have to be at a rolling boil:

Remove from water with a slotted spoon and return to parchment-lined baking sheets.

Wash each pretzel with an egg wash. I always add a bit of water to the beaten egg.

Sprinkle with coarse sea salt, and bake in a 400 ºF oven in top and bottom thirds of oven for 25 minutes, checking on pretzels after about 10 minutes and switching the baking sheets’ position in the oven. (Get that? Put the bottom one on top, and the top one on the bottom. I knew you’d understand!)

You’re in for a treat!