in my kitchen, around the farm
nearing-the-end of July edition
This week has been full of all sorts of weird and wonderful things over here at slowdown. I’m writing this early in the morning on our screened in porch while it rains outside. How lovely is the rain? All of every tree and plant and blade of grass vibrating upwards, open to that touch of life. You can almost see them trembling with joy if you look close enough.
Yesterday my husband, daughter, and I spent the day loading hay and then, as it must go, unloading hay. We used to cut our own hay, but now we buy hay from dear friends and kindly neighbours. One of our neighbours will even still cut small squares for us - a definite rarity in today’s world. He will cut, rake, and bale them, but we have to do the rest. And that was yesterday’s task. Throwing hay bales on the back of a hay wagon while the tractor creeps along the rows seems easy enough on bale one. But by bale 256 in the blazing heat, perspectives start to change a wee bit. When the wagon is stacked and full, it’s a return to our barn where everything comes off and is loaded in our old barn. I like to imagine the people that once lived here and how they used to do the same - loading the barn with security for the winter. I know the barn definitely enjoys her belly full of hay. You can tell by the way she gives off the most lovely perfume of fresh grass and calls all the barn kitties in to play and rest in her bales. She’s proud. It’s obvious.
I already showed everyone all the ways we preserved our 80 pounds of cherries this year in the chat. And you showed me many of yours. I loved seeing that. Seeing peeks into your kitchens. Hearing about your favourites. I’m looking forward to seeing more of your preserving delights as I share mine as the season rolls on. Our last two preserving endeavours with the cherries, my fermented salsa and some cordials that continue on, have been yummy, too. I stopped canning salsa a few years ago when I