Let the Sun Shine In

Yes! The sun, it is shining! WHEEEE!!!

There's nothing quite as exciting as a clear, sunny day after a long period of clouds and wet.

Unfortunately, I don't think we're going to get a very long stretch of sunny days this time, which means those poor potatoes that are STILL in the ground are going to have to sit out there awhile longer. The ground is going to be too wet to dig them up today. Poor Adirondack Reds. Don't worry, my lovelies! I'll rescue you as soon as I can! Only to, um, eat you.

Out of the frying pan and into my gullet, as it were.

ANYWAY.

I just love these fall days when the air is clear and the sun shines but doesn't turn me into a sweaty, disgusting mess. I much prefer my sunshine to be in a diluted form. Good thing I don't live in Arizona anymore, as the only kind of sun there is the Extra Strength variety.

Did I have a point to all this rambling? If I did, I can no longer remember what it was. So perhaps I will stop here and go outside to hang my clothes up in the sun. Yes, I think I'll do that.

Happy sunny Saturday, poppets!

A True Breakfast of Champions

You all know by now that I would choose cake over pie any day when it comes to dessert. But I will say this for pie: Hot apple pie with melted sharp cheddar cheese on top makes a kick-ass breakfast.

That's all. Carry on.

Red Sky at Night

Have you ever heard that saying? "Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky in the morning, sailor's warning."

Don't ask me why I have heard it and, what's more, remember it; I suppose it's one of many, many useless bits of doggerel that have come my way over time to be retained by the fickle brain that tends to forget important things like people's birthdays.

If I have forgotten your birthday recently, I'm sorry. You can see that I have more important things on my mind. A general happy birthday to all!

ANYWAY.

That might have been the most meandering and random tangent ever. Moving on.

So, red sky at night. Yes. As it happens, we had a red sky last night. Like, blood red as the sun was setting. It was spectacular, and I called the MiL away from the dishes to watch as the sun set. The MiL also retains useless bits of information in her brain--way more than I do, actually--and so when I mentioned that I thought a red sky at night meant sailor's delight but I wasn't sure how that tied in with the excessive rain predicted for this morning, she not only knew what I was talking about, she said she had just been thinking the same thing.

Great minds, you know.

It is possible there would have been a red sky this morning as a sailor's warning. If it hadn't been pouring down rain. Perhaps there was a red sky above the clouds. Who can say? Because I am a geek, I did Google "red sky at night" this morning and came across this fun page from the Library of Congress. It's like Myth Busters! Only minus the incredibly annoying hosts and inevitable explosions. Which makes it much more to my taste.

And with that, I will leave you, despite the lack of a discernible point or snappy closing. Because sometimes, that's just the way it is.

Home Alone

A. and the MiL both had a meeting to go to last night at 7:30 p.m. in the Small City, and decided to go to dinner before the meeting. In fact, I may have even suggested this going-out-to-dinner plan, as it meant that I didn't need to worry about making dinner. For anyone but myself, that is. And Cubby. But he's pretty easy.

ANYWAY.

When left to my own devices for dinner--which is a very rare occurrence--I usually just scavenge for whatever leftovers may be at hand. We didn't happen to have much in the way of leftovers last night though, except a little German red cabbage. Delicious as it is, that isn't much of a meal. So I went with my fall-back, there's-nothing-for-dinner dinner: a potato. Scrub it up, poke some holes in it so it doesn't explode, throw it in the microwave for a few minutes, add cheese, DONE!

I really love potatoes.

So what's your fall-back dinner? Cereal? PB&J? Or do you just say screw it all and get something delivered? (Not an option for me, sadly.)

Two Words

More prain.

Potatoes drowning.

Sheep soaked.

Dogs damp.

Chickens mad.

Cubby bored.

Me, too.

And you?

Potatoes, Polka, and Prain

Okay, FINE, "prain" isn't a word. I was just so pleased with the alliteration that I wanted to continue with the "P"s, even though the last word is really "rain."

I'm an English geek, okay? Alliteration makes me happy.

ANYWAY.

So! Onward with the "P"s! Beginning with potatoes! Which we started digging up yesterday. And by "we," I mean A. I always try to finagle it so he does the actual digging and I just do the picking up. I managed to collar him yesterday morning for at least some digging, and we got the main-crop potatoes out the ground. Sadly, it is not a particularly impressive harvest this year. The tarp of potatoes does not look like this, for instance. It's okay--we're certainly not going to go without my beloved mashed potatoes--but it's not great. However, I do still have a few more short rows to dig up, and the MiL cleverly planted some potatoes not too long ago that are flowering now and will be ready to dig later, so we have more to add to the harvest total soon.

Next up, polka! We attended the annual Oktoberfest celebration yesterday hosted by Hans (yes, that is his real, honest-to-God name), an old bachelor farmer who immigrated here from Germany when he was about 12 and celebrates his heritage every year by hosting a party in his barn featuring beer and a band playing polkas for around a hundred people. Or however many people end up showing up. There's always chicken, sausage, sauerkraut, and German potato salad, and the guests bring other salads and desserts. This year I brought an apple/pear crisp (peeling that many apples makes my hands hurt) (I know you care about my hands) and stuffed myself with potato salad. I do love my potato salad. As you may remember. Cubby was quite captivated by the band and the hordes of wild children racing around in gangs. He'll get to join them next year, but this year all he could do was watch from my lap while he bounced from foot to foot.

And finally, prain. It was NOT supposed to prain today. It was supposed to be sunny and dry and that is why I was so insistent that we dig potatoes yesterday morning. They need to dry out and cure for a couple of days before they're stored. But the prain is not going to help them dry out, dammit. Stupid newspaper and its stupid incorrect weather forecast. And stupid prain.

So there.

Workin' Hard for No Money

Saturday at Blackrock tends to be The Day of Hard Labor. Not that the other days of the week are exempt from physical work, but Saturday is the day we get outside and work all day. Yesterday was no exception, as we all scattered to various tasks after breakfast.

I finally got into the garden to harvest a few of the red cabbages that inexplicably and suddenly split a little while ago, then started to rot on top. There wasn't a lot to salvage on them, as the inside was basically like one big core, and the outside was like, well, rotting cabbage. With which, you might recall, I have had more than enough experience. Gross. But I did manage to salvage enough to make German red cabbage with apples last night (YUM). Plus, an unexpected bonus: The insides of the cabbages had a surprisingly beautiful pattern to them.

Trippy.

I also harvested some of the butternut squash.

I just love vegetables that require no canning.

Plus, more tomatoes, more zucchini, more green beans, and a few more cucumbers. Also known as The Crops That Never Quit. Then I pulled some weeds, which made no noticeable difference in the weedy mess that is the garden now. Boo. I'm sort of looking forward to the killing frost, if only to kill the damn weeds.

In addition, I picked up some of the wretched walnuts while Cubby supervised from his chariot. There is going to be a HUGE, AWFUL amount of walnuts this year. God help me.

In the meantime, A. was putting some of his milled lumber to good use.

What? Doesn't everyone build barns on Saturdays?

That's right, the Barn Builder strikes again. He decided that since he really needed to re-build the chicken coop anyway--since it's been in a state of severe disrepair ever since the tree blew down last summer--he might as well make a bigger structure for his sheep. So this barn is supposed to incorporate a sheep barn, a chicken coop, and a hay storage shed. He's got most of the frame up and is now working on siding it.

The MiL was cutting down the peonies and weeding things.

I don't have a photo of the cut-down peonies, but here's one of the peonies in bloom. Much prettier.

And Cubby . . . well, Cubby just hung around making everyone's day brighter. Literally.

Hello, Crayola Kid!

A good day's work for all.