Monday, November 21, 2016

The Final Harvest

It was 63 degrees and sunny on Saturday. This was appreciated in November, especially as our forecast let us know in no uncertain terms that Winter Is Coming. Specifically, two days of snow accompanied by frigid temperatures and gusting winds.

Better make hay while the sun shines! Or, in our case, pull up the sole remaining beet in the garden.

And such a beet. The biggest beet I have ever seen.

I set Cubby and Charlie the task of pulling.

Heave ho- . . .

 . . . -ly shit, that's a huge beet.

Gallons of borscht, right there.

After considering this behemoth for a second, Charlie asked "Mommy, is it as big as my head?"

Well, let's find out.

Yup. (This is not a trick of perspective, by the way.)

While we were in the garden, we shoved in some peach and plum pits that we had saved into the soil to see if they'll sprout. If they do, then maybe we can transplant them and grow some fruit trees. Kind of a long shot, but it doesn't hurt to try.

Next I gathered some of the last apples on one of the trees in the back to make some apple cider vinegar. Then some more wild grapes to add to some feral apples I already had for a last batch of apple-grape jelly.

We spent some time picking up outside and making sure anything that we didn't want covered by snow was under cover. I pulled the snow shovel out of the barn and set it right next to the front door.

It started snowing yesterday morning at 7 a.m.

This morning at 5 a.m. when I went outside to let Mia out, I opened the door to this:

I particularly like the snow that blew against the door and formed a little ridge to step over. And the wind-sculpted foot-deep drift on the porch.

I can't even tell how much snow has fallen, thanks to the wind blowing it around. Several inches, for sure. But we have applesauce, jelly, vinegar, and one ENORMOUS beet. Bring on the winter.


mil said...

Sure beats my little mouse-chewed ones!

Anonymous said...

Can't wait to see the snow total in the morning !

Daisy said...

I think I want to move in with you. I'd move in next door, but I don't think there is a "next door" to this wonderful homestead of yours. Fruit trees? Enormous beets? I'm so there.