Housework?

Why I didn't fold my laundry today.

Now, as for why I didn't do the dishes, vacuum, dust, or cook... umm,
I'm thinking, I'm thinking!

Saucy

So, what have I been doing with the tomato supply that just won't quit? Well, we've been giving some to neighbors - a little good will can go a long way - and the rest I've been making into this sauce.

It's actually called "Oven Roasted Canned Tomatoes," and I've made it that way and it's fabulous. But, oh my, with fresh tomatoes? It's out-of-this-world fantastic!
The recipe is from one of my favorite cookbooks, http://www.amazon.com/Italian-Country-Table-Farmhouse-Kitchens/dp/0684813254/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1223685171&sr=8-1, by Lynn Rossetto Kasper. Once you've chopped the ingredients, the sauce practically makes itself.

I guess at the amount of tomatoes to chop - I'm sure I use several pounds- when spread out, they'll pretty much fill a large cookie sheet. Oh, and I don't bother peeling them. We don't even notice them in the finished sauce. The original sauce calls for 28 ounces of canned tomatoes.

So, chop your tomatoes, then add 2/3 cup olive oil, 14 large fresh basil leaves, torn; 2 4-inch branches of fresh rosemary and 5 large cloves of garlic, chopped. Add salt and pepper to taste (I usually add about 2 tsp salt and 1/2-1 tsp. pepper).
Mix all the ingredients together on the cookie sheet and bake in a preheated 300 degree oven for about 2-2 1/2 hours. I give the ingredients a stir about every 45 minutes.

Transfer the sauce into a glass bowl to mellow (up to 6 hours). Serve with pasta.

Other than its unbelievable flavor, this sauce is really versatile. I sometimes serve it with feta or soft goat cheeses tossed into the hot pasta; other times I stir in about a cup of ricotta cheese before serving.
Add a salad and garlic bread and you have a quick and easy meal.

Thankful Corn

One of my family's Thanksgiving traditions is our "Thankful Corn." Each person at the dinner table receives 3 kernels of Indian Corn. We then pass around a small bowl, with each person placing one kernel of corn in the bowl while telling something he/she's thankful for. By the time everyone has shared their thanks (no repeats), the amount of corn in the bowl shows how much there is to be thankful for, even though each person only listed 3 things.

Last year, we saved our thankful corn and planted it this summer. At first, we didn't think it would survive, then we were sure it didn't have enough light to tassel. We hand pollinated the few tufts of silk, but were sure it was planted too late for the ears to mature. Then there was the anxious waiting for the right time to pick - not too early, but before the squirrels or raccoons beat us to it.
But this was the-little-corn-patch-that-could - and it did!
Above you see our two ears of Indian Corn, grown from last Thanksgiving's thankful corn. The yellow corn was a volunteer planted by Farmer Squirrel.

So,while it isn't yet Thanksgiving, I offer up tonight my thanks for my mom's successful surgery today. She still faces many challenges and a long recuperation, but right now, she's doing well.
There is always so much to be thankful for.

Abundantly Yours

Dear Mother Nature,

I am writing to thank you for the abundance you have provided me this year. My garden continues to produce tomatoes and basil, we harvested the last of our butternut squash (6) last week, and still have to dig the sweet potatoes and garlic.
You have also provided for me through the gifts of friends and neighborhood trees (apples), my CSA, and farmer's markets throughout the area.
I have a bushel of apples in the basement, quarts and quarts of applesauce and pie apples in the freezer, pickles to last the winter, jam up the wazoo aplenty. We have enough frozen corn and green beans to last the winter as well. I have canned tomatoes and frozen sauces and salsa. We have wonderful locally and sustainably reared beef and chicken in the freezer, along with quarts and quarts of frozen raspberries, blackberries and blueberries.




I have a bushel of onions waiting to process for the freezer and a bushel of potatoes to pick up Saturday from the farmer's market. I have garlic to last me most of the winter, and pear butter in the crock pot. There are 7 pounds of Concord grapes in the refrigerator that I need to turn into jelly tomorrow.
I even have 11 chickens to provide my own eggs along about January or so.

Now, I don't mean to complain, so please don't take this wrong.
But I need you to stop.
Right now.

Please send a hard freeze right away!



You see, I can't take it anymore. The urge to preserve just won't quit, but truthfully, I'm worn out. It's October now, and I have other things I want to do.
But if this produce production continues, I'm never going to get my Christmas presents made or my house clean. I may not have time to decorate for Halloween.
Or Thanksgiving, even.
I know you'll understand, being a mother and all, that sometimes your children need guidance. Usually they don't want it, but I'm begging you.

Turn off the spigot, please, I'm drowning in abundance.
Thank you.

Abundantly Yours,

Karen

Waiting and Worrying

Lots has been happening in my life here, but Saturday I got a call that overshadowed it all and halted me in my tracks.

My mom has had a severe and sudden attack of diverticulitis. Friday she was fine, Saturday she was in the hospital with IV antibiotics, morphine, a gastric tube, catheter and facing surgery.

We are in a wait-and-see situation, the infected area of her colon is more inflamed, but the infection hasn't perforated the colon. Doctors don't want to do surgery - unless they have to - until the infection is cleared up.
So we wait another 24 hours.

One of my sisters flew down to Arkansas from New York for this week, another sister will fly in from Pittsburgh the following week and the third week will be my turn. It is hard to be so far away, not to be right there, not to be holding her hand (thought that would probably drive her crazy!)

She will require surgery no matter what, it's just a matter of when. She will need a bowel resection; basically, they cut apart the colon, remove the infected tissue, then create a temporary colostomy while the area heals. Once healed, a second surgery will reconnect the bowel and restore normal functioning.

My mom is facing at least 10 days in the hospital now, to be followed by another stay for the first surgery, and a third for a final surgery. This will amount to weeks and weeks of recuperation time. My mom is 79 and in otherwise excellent health, so all should be well.

But the stress and worry I'm experiencing sends me back 4 years ago to my dad's illness and the surgery and hospitalization that ultimately ended his life.

I'm in need of a good cry, but too many people live in my house to be able to do so without unnecessarily worrying them. So again, I'm holding it in, that huge lump in my throat, the tension in my neck and back, the frantic, stressful energy that goes nowhere and accomplishes nothing.

I wait and worry.

Indecision, My Middle Name

I am conflicted.

I think that could be my motto.
I'm trying to reduce my debt, but I must have a functioning fireplace.

But I want to move out of my neighborhood in 3 years, meaning we'll never recoup the cost of said fireplace.

I can't live without a working fireplace for 3 more years! That's the rest of Sarah's childhood and half of Melissa's remaining childhood. Fireplaces are very important to me.

But we'll never recoup the cost of the improvements we've made to this house.

I want to plant apricot trees in the sideyard, and they are half off right now. I also need spring bulbs and ground cover for the hill in front of our house.

But if we move in 3 years, does it really make sense to plant apricot trees?

Ah, yes, but with the economy the way it is, I may not be able to move in 3 years afterall, and then I'll sure wish I'd planted those apricot trees!

We're planning to sell our Prius to eliminate the car payment, canceling cable again and switching to only cell phones.

These decisions seem right to me.

But the fireplace is calling...

Spook Cave

When we stopped at Spook Cave in McGregor, IA, on our way home on Sunday, we were greeted by this lovely waterfall. Early settlers in the area often heard strange noises coming from a hole at the base of a hill near Bloody Run Creek. The cave was finally discovered in 1953.

This little muskrat was swimming in the creek at the cavesite. I've never seen a muskrat swim before - he was fast!

This is a muskrat house we saw earlier in our trip.

The cave wasn't actually spooky at all, despite having to ride through it a small boat. It always does freak me out a little when all the lights in a cave are turned off, though. Fortunately, the teenager giving the tour flipped them back on pretty darn fast.

There weren't many interesting formations in the cave, just the ones you see here. We did see a couple of sleeping brown bats.

I can't imagine having the nerve to crawl in through the hole with only a flashlight, as the cave's discoverer did.

It was a fun stop on the way home.