The family plan?

I really don't plant my garden on the family plan. I simply share if I have enough to share. This rationale escapes a few family members. Well, okay, only ONE family member.

At a recent family gathering, I was asked if I planted a garden this year, and if I did, what did I plant? When I told her I planted Bell peppers, she jumped on the "gimme" train. I told her, with the appropriate amount of sadness, that last year I had four pepper plants and I got ONE pepper. This didn't make an impact.

I feel like my pepper harvest is now doomed. Or jinxed. Something. 

Gardening is intensive work. The seeds are planted, then the sprouts are transplanted to larger individual pots to grow. Soil is amended with expensive fertilizers. Young plants are replanted yet again in their permanent location. Pest controls are implemented. Watering and weeding are daily chores. If there is produce to harvest, it goes on for at least a month. 

And you want something for free? 

It's not that I don't enjoy sharing my harvest - just not with anyone who EXPECTS me to share.

There is a difference.

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, gardening, Bell peppers, produce sharing, managing expectations, rural living, country lifestyle, a writer's life, m/m romance 

Cook once, eat fifteen times

Yesterday I finally did something I've wanted to do for two years - I made and processed Beef Stew.  Fifteen pints, to be exact. That's fifteen evenings the daily dilemma of what to fix myself for supper is solved. 

Cooking for one is a lot harder than I ever thought it would be. It's a lot of aggravation to prepare an entire meal when I know I'll be eating the same thing, or elements of the same things, for the next three days. I've already discovered that's a recipe for wasting food. 

When I lived alone over thirty years ago, my mother and grandmother pretty much kept me fed. Back before the cellphone days, I'd come home from work and find notes in my mailbox instructing me to go to one of their houses and what was on the menu. With my grandmother next door and my mother only a mile away, it was good to have options. Ah, the good old days! 

This Beef Stew recipe is from the Ball Book, as are many of the foods I home process. When I'm ready to enjoy a jar, I'll make a bit of thickening from flour when I heat it up. Adding flour to a jar before canning is a no-no due to concerns about reaching proper heat levels inside the jar during processing. We do want to be safe. 

In the overall scheme of things, this is a small accomplishment but I feel good about it. Every little thing is a step toward what will be my normal life without Ron. Typing that sentence felt odd, but it's a truthful sentiment. Who knew Beef Stew could make a life feel like it was moving forward again? 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, Beef Stew, home canning, country lifestyle, rural living, Ball Book of Canning, life after death, a writer's life, KC Kendricks, m/m romance, grandmothers

A foggy morning after a day of rain

Yesterday, we had a true soaking rain. It lasted for hours and was a welcome event. We weren't really in a drought, but a good soaker has long-lasting benefits. It not only put nitrogen into the soil and filled up my cistern, but it gave me a mostly restful day. If I hadn't had to meet the pastor for lunch, I doubt I would have gotten out of my PJs. (Lunch was good, by the way.)

This morning I was up before dawn. Deuce decided he needed to go out and go out NOW. I didn't doubt it because I knew he didn't take care of all his outside activities last night. Apparently, the dog can't go in the rain.

Even before I turned the outside lights on, I sensed that it was foggy. Fog has a way of making the world silent. I stoked the fire in the woodstove, and then the dog and I retired to the sunroom and waited for daylight. 

I wish now I'd thrown on some clothes and taken Deuce for a walk. The fog brings a peace to my soul, a stillness. I settled for taking a few pictures so I will remember the morning. It will do for now. 

Perhaps I should make myself a hooded cloak to wear over a warm coat so that next time I can walk in the fog and become one with the mist. I like that idea, so we shall see. 

The Lady of The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, foggy mornings, walking in the fog, rural living, country lifestyle, black Labrador Retriever, a writer's life, m/m romance