Dorsettsheep's Blog

An elderly woman, my friend for life,

Passed away in the month of June, 

Never complained, whistled a happy tune, 

All her years were filled with strife, 

She knew what to do and did it right, 

Working late, by the kerosene light, 

Prohibition didn’t touch this army wife, 

Bath tub beer, she cooked day and night, 

Landlord took her brew, not to her delight, 

Called the coppers and watched her stew, 

Landlord didn’t know it was she, the deed did do.

One hundred three years of life,  

Horse and buggy, to Jets that zoomed, 

her model “T” everyday she groomed, 

A farmer, good with a butcher knife, 

Alone, her man stationed at a CCC Camp, 

Far from being considered a Twenties Vamp, 

She was a homebound army wife, 

Collected the eggs, and shut the barn doors, 

Cleaned everything and swept the floors, 

She did it all with out the feeling of lonely, 

Though every day she was the one and only.

Eggplant a delight to grow and to consume.  I am sure to both comments I will hear dissention. 

Eggplant is a gorgeous plant with huge beautiful down covered leaves.  The blossoms, beautiful lavendar ones.  It is a shame they are hidden under the massive leaves.

Growing eggplant can try a person's patience.  The bugs adore it.  The sprays to combat it are nauseous. The alternative is to purchase the ones at the grocery store.  Large, seed filled globes you must purge with salt for  at least a half hour before using (I have never had to do it with home grown eggplants.)  When the commercially grown ones cook they go to mush and are bland, tasteless unless you get a strong one and then it will be bitter.  Home grown just picked never seem to be bitter. 

Growing eggplant at home you will need to find some way to row cover it to keep the flea beetles away.  (Eggplants are self pollinating and just need the wind.)  We got around the row cover requirement placing the eggplants in the green house.  They are supposed to like hot weather and even with the fans on it is hot in there. I do have flea beetle damage but not enough to jeopardize the growth and production of the plant.  We prevented a total invasion by hanging traps for them and any other flying critters. 

We got the idea when perusing the green house supply catalogue.  They had these hanging cards painted yellow and blue.  They were designed to tell the green house operator when he had an explosion of insects and would need to spray.  I thought if it catches them for that then why would it not catch them for ridding my plants of them.  I figured if there was enough of them it would work.  The cards were coated with a sticky substance that doesn't dry.  They sold the sticky substance in a can, whoopee, we can make our own.

I  I looked in Hunny's shop to see if he had similar colors of spray paint.  Yep he did.  Then I went searching for something to prepare with the sticky substance.  I love to recycle things.  I know that this same substance is applied to red painted balls to hang in orchards to trap the apple maggot butterfly (moth).  I am not sure which insect category it is in.  I looked for some objects that would fit that description and nothing was around.  Then I went into the shed to feed and water the chickens and there on the shelves were my gourds, nice and dry.  We raised them last year.  I had some that were on the small misshappened size.  I figured I would see how they spray painted. 

They were duly anointed with yellow and blue and allowed to dry.  It took 3 coats to cover them satisfactorily.  Set them to dry completely.  That evening Hunny brought home the sticky stuff.  The next day I attached baling twine to the handles of the gourds.  (All the ills of the world can be fixed with balling twine, duct tape, and chewing gum.) 

I hung the gourds in the green house.  I put on plastic surgical gloves and opened the can of sticky stuff.  With trepidation I reached into the goop.  Fun to touch, but don't get it on anything not covered. 

I reach for a gourd and smeared the sticky stuff all over it.  Went down the row and covered them all.  Stood back and waited.  It wasn't a half hour before I saw the results of my efforts.  There is a picture of the gourds hanging in the green house in my blog.

The reason the traps work is the bugs think the blue is the sky and fly towards it.  The yellow they think is the sun.  At least that is what I think happens.  (The red ball attracts the insects because they think it is a ripe apple on the tree to lay their eggs in.)

Several days later the gourd by the green house door was covered by white flies.  We either caught some that hatched right there or a batch flew in the door and were trapped.  (We had never had white flies in the green house before.)

The plants are flourishing and starting to reward my efforts with an eggplant or two.  I have several varieties: Purple Rain, Dark red violet globe the size of a goose egg; Lavender Touch, elongated thick sausage shaped white streaked with lavender; Rosa Bianca, a large flattened round that is white streaked with purple; Kamo, a softball sized fruit that can be green to purple that is almost black;  Mazu, a long fat cigar fingerling that is white streaked with purple; Ping, a skinny cigar shaped fruit that is white streaked with purple.  There is a picture of Kamo in my blog. 

Now for the delightful consumption part.  I also have onions, green peppers, tomatoes, basil and parsley in the garden.   I took the Kamo fruit I picked yesterday, gathered the half of pepper in the fridge and the 1/2 of Vidalia left from last night.

Preheated the iron skillet and put in a couple of tablespoons of olive oil.  I chopped the onion in 1/4 inch dice and put into the pan, turned the pan down to medium low, and covered the pan and let the onion soften.  While the onion softens I dice the pepper.  Retrieve a garlic clove (a very large one) and proceed to peel and put through the little suzy press.  I raise the temp on the skillet and take off the lid and add the garlic and stir fry till cooked.  I turn down the skillet to low and throw in the green pepper.  It is cooked till just starting to soften (just heating through actually).  I pour the contents of the skillet into a colandar.  Then the skillet is wiped down so no garlic bits remain or any other debris from sauteing.  I return the drained oil back to the skillet (adding some more olive oil if I don't have at least 3 Tlbs.) 

Bring the heat back up to high in the skillet. Now I peel the Kamo and then chunk it into large chunks (bite size), dumping it into the skillet.  The object is to scorch the chunks without burning them (you want them dark brown.) 

While they are browning dice tomatoes, large dice.  I used a Big mama and two romas.  I threw these into the pan when the browning was finished and dumped the sauteed veggies in. Stirred quickly, the tomatoes releasing their juices to make a sauce in the pan.  Do not add salt at this time because it will cause excess juice to run from the veggies. 

Your pan is on medium high at this time.  When the tomatoes are cooked threw add your handful of julienned basil and handful of rough chopped parsley.  Turn the heat off now and stir till all the herbs are completely limp.  It is time to taste and add salt according to your likes.  I use kosher salt. 

The above will make enough for two large sides (if you are willing to share).  Or like I had it, one lunch with sour dough bread. 

It sounds like a lot of work but It did not take me 15 minutes to fix.  Of course you can take eggplants and do the usual (fried eggplant) and if you have zucchini you can make it into ratatouille.  BTW, you can double all the ingredients and make even more.  It stores excellently.  Burp!

Today I realized there are many lessons our mothers never teach us.  Why? Because they feel it is need to know basics. They'll tell us when we need to know.

Today I learned Momma Cats can speak with their mouths full.  I am busily repotting a palmetto in the open door of the barn.  Here comes the old mama cat with her mouth full and she is calling (in full voice) for her Kittens to come.  

In her mouth she has a still writhing, approximately 3 feet long, dark colored snake.  The only thing good about it was that it was not a poisonous snake.  It was probably a blue racer because the belly was so white and the dark skin had a bluish cast to it.  The light in the barn is not good so I couldn't see.  (Wish I could teach them to identify the poisonous ones, so they'd leave my others alone.)

Some how I think I am going to look under mulch and bushes before I reach in and pull the weeds.  If non poisonous ones are around, then the copperheads are roaming around too.  Glad I have lots of cats in the the barn.

We put so many things into so few years,

Filling them with happinesses and tears, 

When did we find the time to love one another, 

While raising children and loving others. 

Beginning our lives, thrilling over the little things, 

Anticipating what the next day brings, 

Learning about each other’s idiosyncrasies, 

Each of us thinking we’d do this with ease. 

The years filled with the clutter of our lives, 

Remember all the trips for French Fries, 

Nights spent worrying about the little things, 

Wondering what the daylight would bring. 

Sometimes we weren’t on the same page, 

I wondered if it was the result of our age, 

We had grown tired of the bump and the grind, 

We seemed never to have time to unwind. 

Moments happened that were wedded bliss, 

Then I remembered the first time we kissed, 

I knew why we suffered the insufferable, 

Why we did all that we were able, 

To work to secure the future of, 

The continuation of this state of love, 

Our struggles added to so much more, 

Highlighting moments of two who adore, 

Being together in the dark of night, 

Strolling hand in hand in the sun light, 

Together the memories we’ve made, 
So many dramas you and I have played. 

For fifty years, together, count them, we did live, 

Honoring the commitment to each we did give, 

Cherishing each other, nurturing our dreams, 

Grasping moments when love creeps through the seams. 

Hunny used to camp, 

Hunny used to hunt, 

Hunny never fished, 

Hunny thinks in golf you punt. 

Now he's into tractors, 

Making bales of hay, 

To shovel out the barn, 

He say's will make his day. 

Turning over rich black compost, 

Finding night crawlers hiding there, 

Is what Hunny finds exciting, 

When he can't find me here. 

He knows about all kinds of bugs, 

Ones that aren't so nice, 

Checking out beneficial ones, 

Has turned into his vice. 

Hunny chops wood to burn at night, 

He stacks it in piles called a cord, 

His chain saw is a Huskavarna, 

In chain saws it is the final word. 

Hunny is my handy man, 

He's handy to have around, 

If I need him in the garden, 

He's there to till the ground. 

Without him to do the work, 

I couldn't quilt the day away, 

Stitching my fingers to the bone, 

Making Quilts the old fashioned way.      

Little ones, at the window, faces glued, 

Can't wait to put on their schnood, 

Running through cold silvery flakes, 

Staying out so long, they shake. 

Inside they rush, eyelashes wet, 

Cheeks frozen cold, about to fret, 

When their eyes come to rest, 

A cup O’ chocolate, Mom's the best. 

Their noses red from the cold, 

Remembering when they grow old, 

These days, when young they were,

Running in the door, shouting burrrrh

I consider myself fairly learned in the art of food preparation.  My mother started me cooking in the kitchen at the age of three.  Being the oldest of six siblings who were spread from 18 years to 6 months, by the time I graduated high school, I was already well versed in the art of keeping house.

I have been married for almost forty-five years.  I am literally thrilled when new information (that’s not written in books) crosses my path.  Of course if that new is useful information and I deem it valuable and sharable then I am ecstatic.  Why I haven’t come up with this idea on my own amazes me. It’s one of those ideas that should have automatically happened.  Especially since I use a store bought version of it and have for years.  The store bought version is very inferior and wears out.

People use lots of things to substitute for double boilers, and pots designed for other uses as Bain Maries.  The list goes on and on for the things we use in the kitchen for other purposes they were not designed for (Table butter knives for screw drivers..lol).  So that this idea escaped me for years is unfathomable.

I use a porcelain covered metal diffuser for my pots on the wood stove and usually send it to the electric stove for use too.  (It doesn’t hold up too well for electric stove use.) 

There are also those “Z” shaped  metal spring diffusers for using with pyrex dishes on the stove top burners. 

I was surfing the net to buy Elderberry Bushes this morning and one site “Raintree” also had a recipe section which came to my attention.  I couldn’t leave the site without perusing.  There were only 4 recipes and I read them all.  They had been submitted by readers of the site.  One had an extremely helpful hint for people who had kitchens that may not have all the items you have when you keep house for dozens of years.

Don’t throw away those Iron  Skillets!  Use them as a heat diffuser…make your cheap sauce pots into heavy bottom “All Clads.”  I will never have scorched tomato sauce again.   While on the subject of pots and pans and as a user of old pots and new ones, I recommend the All Clad Brand Pots. (This is an unsolicited comment I am in no way employed or even a relative of the company.  Just a loyal brand user.)    

If you can only buy one pan I recommend getting the 12” sauté pan.  It is a frying skillet.  Its sides are high enough you can use it for a roaster in the oven.  If you season it the way they say you will have a great pan to make a heavenly fritta.  I can’t even remember all the uses I have for it.  If you can afford it I recommend the copper clad 3 quart sauce pan.  It cooks so evenly and retains the heat so you can cook at a simmer on the lowest temp on your stove. 

I do not recommend their “teflon lined” cook pans.  They tout them as scratch proof.  My mother and my daughter…both, very careful with their pots using nonstick utensils so they won’t scratch have had the surface deteriorate quickly, but not any quicker than the disaster of my son’s pots.  He was not careful with utensil use. 

I do not use “no stick” pans because the fumes, cooking with them is life threatening to my tropical birds.  So I can’t, from use, report on the pans. I can just report what the people dearest to me experienced.

All Clad has different exteriors on their pans.  I highly recommend the high polished outside of the stainless steel. It is easily scoured with steel wool pads (I recommend store brand on steel wool).  My daughter requested the charcoal colored exterior for her set.  It stains easily and does not look nice after it has been scoured. This, of course, is just my opinion. Others may have had different responses from the product.

The only All Clad pot I have, which I don’t use, is the small sauce pot.  It is too small for my uses.  It is wonderful I don’t have to feel guilty about having it.  The reason I don’t feel guilty is: Two years ago I went to a garage sale and saw these three copper pots stacked up together.  The top little one had 2.50 written on it.  I went up to the lady and asked her what the price for the other pans was and she said 2.50. I handed her 10 dollars and she proceeded to give me 7.50 in change.  I told her that was the wrong change and she said, “No mam, It’s 2.50 for all of them.”   I said are you sure…She said yes.  I took my change and ran back to the car.  When I got home to my delight I discovered they were from my very favorite cook pot manufacturer.

Returning to the point of this blog.  If you have an iron skillet which is pitted, clean it up and use it for a heat diffuser under your pots.  (you can also use one you use everyday..lol)  BTW My old cast iron pots are still my most favorite cook ware.

This has been a constant battle for me since I stopped working in the
garden. Inactivity seems to make me hungrier than working myself to death.  Paper work which I have been doing a lot of is so conducive to snacking and eating. Nothing seems to satisfy me. Drinking water seems to only make me hungrier.

This morning I straighten up the kitchen, I found a plastic bag with the
ends of the herb bread that I made last week. And wondered…would it make good lunch. Like I said hunger seems to be a major part of my day even though I have been constantly busy. I wonder if I am trying to fill the empty spot I have from not being able to be out side in the garden. I think that is close to the correct diagnosis.

Last week when I returned home from Florida we had had a spring thaw and I was able to get out in the garden and pull the henbit and the chickweed in the strawberries. I was not hungry the whole time I was in the garden. The next day the weather turned very cold, especially in my valley. It froze the ground very hard. I took advantage of it and dressed the strawberries with a mulch of straw. I wasn’t as hungry that day either.

Back to hunger and the bag of bread. It was a round high loaf so it had
these odd shaped pieces left. I had thought maybe to turn it in to croutons because it was sage bread. My hunger for something to eat was getting in the way. I hadn’t eaten a decent breakfast and it was 10 o’clock, so I am thinking lunch is getting near. I am desiring food not snacks. The second thought I had was of French toast. I wondered to myself if it would make good French toast. Said “What the Heck” and proceeded to cut the bread into bread sticks. Put them in a pan and scrambled two eggs and a little milk and poured over the bread. Browned the French toast in my iron skillet.

What’s French toast with out topping? A Fried Egg Bread. Normally French toast is a sweet breakfast treat.  For Lunch I was desiring a little more substantial taste.  I put the sticks on an oven proof flat dish, turned on the broiler. While the broiler was preheating I diced green onions fine and grated some mozzarella cheese. I sprinkled the onions on the sticks and shook the parmesan cheese over them and then covered them in the grated cheese. Under the broiler it went.

Yum!! All I could think of I wish I had some crumbled bacon, and sautéed mushrooms. Even some salsa on the side..

I call the recipe, “French toast does Lunch”. (it was a fancy grilled
cheese).  I can't wait for summer when I can smother it with basil chiffonade under the melted cheese.

What will happen when you approach the New Year?

Will you look upon it with trepidation and fear?

Will you be celebrating with those who are dear?

Will at the close of the eve, you shed a tear?

Is it for the joys you predict there’ll be?

Or filled with sadness for past memories?

Will tear filled eyes block what you see?

Will you hide emotions from friends and me?

When saying goodbye will you linger there,

Trying to remember, something else to share?

Will your arms reach out to show me you care?

Holding me close, my heart you will ensnare.  

You leave, knowing you have made my heart beat,

I shut the door feeling cold fall round my feet,

Shutting my eyes, wondering if you’ve reached the street,

Realizing my cheeks are warm with passion’s heat.

My eyes tear over the thought of the love I feel,

Knowing you and I and the moment are real,

No one can tell me it is not a big deal,

I can’t wait to serve you a home cooked meal.

I’ll remember the year that has past,

We now have something that will last,

We don’t have to hurry and do things fast,

Start with tomorrow and a simple repast.

Several months ago Our son, who was ready for retirement from the Navy was approached by the army and hired.  I don't understand the logistics of the entire ops, but it is a shared program between the Army and Navy.  Evidently They are sharing personnel if they don't have people trained in the departments they need them.  Our Son is now spending 2 months Army combat training to be sent back to Iraq for a month for more Army combat training, then he will be stationed in Afhganistan for a year. 

He was envolved with both Gulf conflicts and has been in Iraq before.  When questioned about how he felt being sent again he responded, "We belong there, the people need us." 

Those of you complaining we don't belong there have nothing to loose.  Those of us with everything to loose, support our boys. 

Our son considers it an honor to have been chosen for this job.  He was the only enlisted man chosen; the other seven men were all officers.

In my blog I posted pics of our son dressed as an Army Man (remember the movie "Stripes", He joked about that when he called us and told us he was in the Army.)  When we saw the pics it brought home the reality to us.

My children are grown with children of their own.  When shopping I see young mothers frazzled, dragging children that are more frazzled, shopping in the store.  Tempers are short and grow shorter when the days are packed with "important" to dos. 

Families, have you thought how un-important the presents are?  Yes get them if you must, but when I asked my daughter what her best gift was while she was growing up.  She couldn't remember specifically any one gift.  She remembered the Christmas our non-Jewish relatives had to stop at our house on Christmas eve on the way to the funeral of our grandfather to be held the day after Christmas.  What happened?  We went a bought a tree for them (we do not have a tree in our home)  and spent the day making decorations for the tree.  Each person was hiding out at different times making a gift for another (my craft closet was raided and so were my kitchen cabinets).  She remembered how happy everyone was the next morning at brunch even though the season was filled with sadness.  She remembered all the great Jewish holiday foods and Chrismas holiday foods each family made.  She didn't say and niether did any of our guest.....I didn't get that present I wanted.

Give the family the gift of you,

Give the family the gift of time,

Give the family moments to share,

Show them how much you care.

Harried moms prompted the following poem .

Have I forgotten to tell you each day,

Have I forgotten the right words to say,

Have I forgotten to show you, how

Much you mean to me, then and now?

Was there a moment in your life I missed,

Was there a time I should have kissed,

Was there a minute when I didn’t show,

If I forgot, did you let me know?

What was on my mind I wasn’t near,

What was on my mind I didn’t care,

What was on my mind I didn’t show

Each of you, how I loved you so?

Where have I been these days past,

Where have I been, life’s been so fast,

Where have I been when I should show

And tell you what you needed to know?

You’ve grown and now you’re gone,

Those moments I could have won,

Memories of a lifetime of fun,

I was too busy, never done..

A friend of mine panics the minute she sees a spider.  It's dead before Identification. My life is filled with spiders of all kinds.  I come into contact with poisonous ones daily, but I also come in contact with the beautiful and the fasicnating ones.  I wrote this poem for my friend.

I’m so sorry the spiders make you wrought,

You killed one, who webs, he does not brought, 

He stalks his prey, usually his own kind, 

He is a cannibal in his own mind.

He doesn’t spin webs for you to see, 

He scurries around, he doesn’t flee, 

If another spider might be hiding there, 

He goobles him up, he doesn’t share.

It sounds like a wolf spider he is, 

Large, brown furry looking he tis, 

Why, because he is a she, 

On her back all her babies, like fur, be.

If he’s a tiny brown spider with spindly legs, 

It’s is necessary, to be killed, he begs, 

Reclusive in nature is how he is named, 

Poisoning us is the name of his game. 

This is also the one with fine stringy webs, 

He does not design with the finesse of Debs, 

No crazy quilt or geometric design, 

Any haphazard way, with him is fine. 

The reclusive female is the mean one indeed, 

Her bite is terrible, causing infections that bleed, 

The male Brown Recluse, is the tiniest of all, 

He is not very mighty because he’s so small. 

A spider you don’t see often in the light, 

Is one that’s black, like the dark of night, 

On the female’s back is an hour glass, 

Letting you know, let this spider pass. 

She is a very spiteful, hateful dame, 

Killing her mate is her end game, 

She waits till his studdly deed is done, 

He’s dispatched quickly, to heaven gone. 

There are spiders which delight the eye, 

Some can make you laugh till you cry, 

A jumping spider does not cause fright, 

He’ll make children squeal with delight. 

Take your finger and impede his path, 

You’ll get a giggle when he shows his wrath, 

On his haunches he rears back, 

Making a show of a feigned attack.   

He’ll quickly charge away from you, 

Throwing a web like a climber would do, 

Repelling off the edge of your table or desk, 

Knowing you’ll say, “You won’t be missed”. 

So many spiders in our life we need, 

In my garden I love the garden spider’s greed,

He spins webs of gorgeous designs, 

Catching flying insects, all the time. 

Think twice before the disastrous deed you dispatch, 

Think about the “Charlottes” who have hatched, 

Think before executing the final blow, 

Is this someone I should get to know?

Sheepish Dec 2, 2207

How many of us heat with wood and cook on a wood stove?  For years we heated with wood, Our total house.  That stove was a Papa Bear Stove.  I still have papa in the basement.  Our New home is too big to heat with this stove.  At the other home I had an large bake oven that fit on the back of it (It now occupies the shelf in the kitchen with the other antiques.)  We kept a 24 gallon alluminum pot on the stove filled with water which we used to wash dishes with.  The oven after it was done baking supper was filled with clean bricks.  Why because we wrapped them in towels to take to bed with us.  The bedrooms were furthest from the stove were very cool.  Sometimes they were about 50 degrees. 

The children loved the wood stove because in the winter they ran in cold and wet from the snow...hung their clothes on a rack by it to dry and warmed themselves and 15 minutes later (after a cup of cocoa ) they got to go right back outside and play.

We also owned the baby bear stove (the old house didn't have room for it)  When we designed the new house we put a flue in the end of the fireplace for it by the kitchen (now we wished we had put the flue so we could use the papa bear).

We can't substitute the papa because the opening is lower on the fireplace for the smaller stove. (the stove pipe goes directly in the wall.  We don't have the flue pipe exposed)

Weather like this and during the day the little stove takes care of the living area.  It won't hold a fire through the night though. 

I use our baby bear to cook on.  We have a small antique camp oven to use on it.  Mines not fancy with the shiny interior.  It is not insulated but it is the same size with the same heat deflector on the bottom shelf.  Today I baked our supper stew in it, while the stove took the chill out of the house.  Here is a googled site of the oven. Scroll down on the page. 

http://www.stpaulmercantile.com/MSButtLanternOven.h
tm

With the stew we will have fresh picked spinach salad laced with beet greens and the last of the tomatoes from the garden.  There will be a side of our green beans just picked out of the plastic tunnel.  (The beans are finally stopping blooming  so they next few picking will be the last of our treasure.) Our starch for the evening will be the last of the crusty herb bread (recipe is in my archives from this week).  It will be grand for sopping up the gravy on the stew.  I didn't mention, It's lamb stew from our own lambs.

Friends do not let friends drive drunk.  Where were Tony's Friends when he left that night.  Not only was he drunk but it was very late and he was tired.  Why did they not say we'll drive you home?  Why did they not call him a cab?  I am sure it was not because he didn't have the finances to pay for one.  If he didn't have the money, why weren't they a true friend and pay for it themselves. 

Did they feel they'd be insulting him asking if they could get him a ride.  If they did and he refused seems to me that would be the time they should be a friend and demand.  The insult would be to let him go.  To me that says you don't care enough about your friend or others whose life he might endanger.

Please if you are a host at a party try to monitor your guest's consumption.  Serve plenty of food.  When they leave and you suspect over consumption...ask them to sleep in your guest bedroom and have breakfast with you in the morning (or take them home) . Do something, anything to keep them off the road ...Save their lives and the lives of other travelers.