A Roof! - Almost.

This weekend tested my mechanical and general contracting skills, let alone stretched and worked muscles that I had forgotten I possessed.  My mother and grandmother recently bought a house in the next town over.  It has great bones but needs a few things to bring it into the 21st century.  This weekend I took out some baseboard heating in order to install a door directly from the garage into the main house.  Thanks to the invention of something called a Shark-Bite fitting, the average, everyday homeowner can get themselves into or out of some serious plumbing issues without the use of a torch and solder.  I was able to remove the base board and close the heating loop, and put water back through the system.  Unfortunately the spray of water from a pinhole leak stopped that project in it its tracks.  Thankfully this particular baseboard is on its own zone and in an extra room so it wasn't any big problem to leave the whole zone shut down until I can get back over there with another fitting.

I am lucky to have several generations of experienced contractors in my family, not the least of which is my father.  His knowledge base is extensive and I will often pick his brain for little things like, well anything wrong with the house or any huge project which I have decided I can tackle without the help of a professional and then realize I shouldn't have.  He is also great in assuring me that there are many things that I am perfectly capable of handling/fixing/repairing even though they scare me.  He introduced me to the Shark-Bite fitting and with them I was able to replace and repair several corroded copper pipes in my basement on the first try with no leaks.  Had that repair not worked there wouldn't have been any water at all in the house. 

A contractor has, however, been enlisted to install the new garage door since I have never attempted nor will I ever attempt to work with that huge spring which is under an enormous amount of pressure.  Electrical work which involves working in the circuit panel itself is also something that I will not attempt unless I receive additional instruction.  The very simple reason - electricity bites. 

Building projects around the farm have become old hat now.  I over-build just about everything and rarely I actually manage to get a completely level, square corner, but the projects are functional and almost always weather tight.  The roof is finally getting put on the rabbit shed.  I did not install the rafters and I am working with a lot of salvaged wood but it will be weather tight and will keep both the rabbits and the pig out of the weather this winter.  Next weekend we will finish sheathing the roof and square it up so it will be ready for metal roofing.  The forecast, budget and whether or not Little man's father gets his deer will determine whether the tar paper and metal roof will go on during the following week or wait until Thanksgiving weekend.

I might actually get my garage back before snow flies!

Meal planning Friday

I love to cook!  I would spend all day in my kitchen dirtying every bowl, dish, piece of cutlery, pot, pan, baking sheet, etc. in the quest to make the perfect meal (I might have said this once or twice before).  Unfortunately when you are working full-time and still want to spend time with your children after you get home from work, the perfect meal is not attainable every night.  Often dinner would be the last thing on my mind, neither Little man's father nor I would remember to take something out of the freezer in the morning, and then neither one of us would feel like cooking - dinner turned into yet another point of contention between the two of us.  After 30 minutes or more of thinking about what to make I would come up with something, head to the refrigerator looking for an ingredient that I knew we had three days ago, only to find it had been consumed in a snack while waiting for dinner to cook yesterday.

I set to the old, faithful, search engine and typed in 'meal planning' hoping that someone, somewhere would at least point me in the right direction to get started.  Salvation came out of that search - there are women who blog about just this type of thing - I knew there was something I liked about the blogging community.  My clicks landed me at thebettermom.com.  In addition to her strong faith and empowering woman through that faith, she publishes bi-weekly, gluten-free meal plans.  Each meal plan is accompanied by the recipes to cook all the meals therein.  This meal planning thing was going to be easier than I thought!

Needless to say I didn't go home, empty my freezer, cabinets and refrigerator of all my food and start with a monumental grocery list - although that might have been fun.  I went home and discussed it with Little man's father - if I do the planning, will you at least cook something from the weekly menu on your nights to cook dinner?  With a few grumbles and groans, he agreed to give it a shot.  Saturday morning, I inventoried the major food groups finding out what we had in the house and started to list a few basic meals that could be made with those items.  Then I thought about how to use up the left-overs; the roast chicken would make a chicken/cheddar/rice casserole or chicken and biscuits.  I quickly had a list of six meals for the following week.  I made out my grocery list with any items I was missing for those meals and then I added in a seventh - try-something-new recipe and added any missing items to the grocery list.

Getting the shopping done was only half the battle, dinner still had to be prepared each night.  Well, my internet search also yielded some pretty great tips, including some on involving your children in meal prep and clean up.  When I was single, I got tired of spending a fortune on lunch everyday so I used to cook up two family-sized meals on Sunday and parcel them out into individual lunch size containers and put them in the freezer for lunches during the week.  By the third week I had a pretty good selection of meals to take with me to work.  Meal planning involves the same kind of commitment on one of your weekend days, but it is centered around prep for the week, not necessarily cooking a week's worth of meals on Sunday while football is playing the background.

This past weeks menu looked a little bit like this:

Saturday - Pesto Pasta w/Italian Sausage, salad, garlic bread
Sunday - Roast Chicken w/oven roasted vegetables
Monday - London broil, baked potato, vegetable of choice 
Tuesday - Chicken/cheddar/rice casserole, vegetable of choice (made ahead or frozen)
Wednesday - Beef stew w/ herb and cheese biscuits (crockpot meal)
Thursday - Ham/potato/bean skillet
Friday - Parmesan chicken fingers w/ herb and blue cheese quiche, salad
Saturday - Tuna casserole, vegetable of choice (made ahead or frozen)

Sunday I made a double batch of cream of celery soup - 1/2 went into the tuna casserole which I made the same day and put into the freezer and half was put into the refrigerator for the chicken/cheddar/rice casserole.  Beef for the stew was cut up out of the roast that I bought at the grocery store and put in a separate storage bag in the freezer.  Carrots, onions, peppers, and tomatoes were cut up and placed in a covered bowl for Wednesday's stew. 

When meat is brought home from the grocery store, we now try to marinate it right away and freeze them with their sauce.  As the meat thaws it soaks up some great flavor.  Little man's father needed only wash a few potatoes and put them in the oven while finishing up chores or playing with Little man.  The meat and vegetables were started at the same time and in less than 20 minutes, a hearty, delicious and not terribly unhealthy meal was had by all .  While we were eating dinner, the rice was cooked for Tuesday's casserole.

After dinner on Tuesday, the meat for the stew was browned and added to the crockpot with the vegetables and remaining stew ingredients.  Wednesday before leaving for work, the crockpot was started.  The Parmesan chicken fingers were frozen after I made a double batch a couple of Sundays ago so we would have a quick meal option.  Quiche's can be baked ahead of time, frozen and reheated, unfortunately this didn't happen this week so the side dish for tonight's dinner will change on the fly.  Saturday, I try to have a quick and easy meal since I am usually running around trying to accomplish an entire weeks worth of chores in one day.

In the three weeks since we started planning meals for the week,  Little man's father and I haven't argued about dinner once, I have managed to follow the sales, stock up on local produce and meats when possible and have dropped my weekly grocery budget to right around $100.  This includes diapers, cleaning supplies, garbage bags, laundry detergent, etc.  This week's grocery shopping and meal planning has been sidelined by a trip to my mother's to check on an electrical problem, but tomorrow morning I will start anew.

THE LIST

Photo courtesy of Wildrose Primitives Etsy Shop

I am a list person, always have been and probably always will be.  My lists keep me sane.  When the mind is cruising along at 110 mph when I am trying to fall asleep, I take out a notepad and pen and dump everything onto the piece of paper which often results in a vague self-assurance that these things will get done eventually and I can finally drift off to dreams.

On Saturday morning while Little man eats and I drink my coffee, THE LIST is created, it contains, but is not limited to - every housecleaning item that didn't get done during the week, any financial/book keeping tasks required to keep the lights on and repo man at bay, any orders or replenishment of farmer's market inventory, any animal related jobs which weren't done during the week, at least one or two irregular house cleaning tasks, meal prep for the following week, laundry, dishes and garbage, one or two organizational projects, at least one home maintenance task, and one or seven farm projects. 

By the time breakfast is done, the first load of laundry is ready to be switched, the dishwasher is finishing its rinse cycle and the garbage has been tied and is ready to go out when we feed the animals.  Little man is collected, washed up, changed and out we go to care for all the critters in our charge, water bottles and containers filled, all feeders topped off and the chickens let loose from the night time safety of their coop.  Back inside to wash out buckets for the restaurant who generously donates their food scraps to our pig and then it is off to run any remaining errands.  Grocery shopping is often completed on Friday evenings when I can run quickly through the store collecting the week's supplies.  Errands are complete by 11:30 a.m. or 12:00 p.m. and then it is back to the house or off to Nana's depending on the day.  Lunch, then Little man goes down for his nap and the true work on the THE LIST begins.  Some day I will be able to complete everything on THE LIST by the end of the weekend.  In the meantime, I just keep working on one or two things each night in hopes that there aren't too many carry overs from week to week. 

Maintaining a weekly list and having a weekly meal plan are two goals that I made for myself starting in September.  Both were established in an effort to ensure I had more time to spend with Little man after work and to curtail the amount of waste we were creating.  Last night I was finally able to clean up the rotted OSB from the backyard.  This represented good money wasted because I hadn't made the time to finish the rabbit shed after I had already purchased materials to do so.  While picking up rotted wood I found some good tools which had been forgotten at the end of one project or another, collected them and returned them to the garage.  There is much to be done, but each day at least one thing gets crossed off the THE LIST.

Clean up OSB from backyard - complete

 

Clean, repair, oil/grease hand tools - added

Such is nature of the THE LIST.

Taking a step back and restoring focus

This summer on the farm passed in a blur as I tried to balance working off-farm part-time, spending quality time with my Little man, and attempting to secure sufficient income to put fuel in the tank and food on the table for the winter.  Heated arguments ensued - the word 'quit' came up several times in those less than calm, collected, discussions about who didn't do what and why we were 'never' going to be successful.

We agreed on one thing only - Little man comes first no matter whatever we decide to do.

Labor Day brought with it a garden that had all but succumbed to the weeds.  We collected a few wonderful meals worth of fried green tomatoes, but didn't get back out soon enough to put up any green tomato relish.  The club size zucchini went soft as they lay neglected after they were one of the few things that managed to survive the weed pressure.  Onion sets, peppers, spaghetti squash were all lost to rot under the weight of the falling weeds.  The herb garden did well, although the basil crop was severely stunted by lack of attention to weeds therein as well.  Tomatoes that didn't get transplanted out of the green house fell out the sides when the roof was removed and a few precious fruits were harvested, but most went to the chickens and the pig.

Farmers market went well with fresh baked and value added items taking the lead and fresh vegetables and produce from around the farm and that of our neighbor coming in a close second.  Unfortunately by the time I came home from my off-farm job, spent some time with Little man and then set-in to bake for the following day's market, it was well into the morning before I got any sleep.  It felt like weeks passed with my brain in a fog.  I was too tired to play outside with an eager toddler - the decision had to be made soon.  September brought with it hard fought glimmers of hope that we might be able to make this work - Little man, I can only hope would hardly remember this summer of rushed, crazy, pressure.

The following week I got a message from a colleague who told me that she might be moving on to pursue a different career opportunity.  Decision time had dropped out of the sky like an anvil onto the roadrunner.  I was beat-up, over-tired, feeling like I was neglecting my child, knew that I was neglecting myself, and having a difficult time trying to figure out which way was up.  Last year's propane bill hadn't been paid, we were behind in every utility and car payment and I was looking at trying to come up with thousands of dollars for taxes and propane and tires for vehicles before snow flew, let alone any other projects that had to get done before it got too cold.  Through all the sleep deprivation and fear, there remained the faint flicker of hope that all this summer's hard work was finally putting up some concrete numbers.  If we can just improve on those numbers - I might be able to work a little harder or go without another 30 minutes of sleep each night... 

I would love nothing more than to work on the farm and make it a sustainable venture.   Unfortunately heat for the house is a necessity in Northwestern Vermont.  I want to be at the end of the driveway to see my son get off the school bus each day.  It takes a community to raise a child and for the past couple of years we haven't had that community as we strove to build our farm venture.  Debts long ago incurred refused to be neglected.  Little man's father works at the base of the mountain requiring snow tires sooner rather than later and if I don't get my oil changed and tires put on my vehicle soon, then my car won't leave the driveway if the weather turns.

It was one of the most arduous decisions of my adult life,

I went back to work full-time.

I am determined to continue, albeit on a much smaller scale, farming on this piece of land to which I have become a caretaker.  The pig will be bred this fall and rabbits will continue to be a part of the farm.  We are in the process of scaling back to between four and six does which will keep us in rabbit as a good source of protein and have a few extra for family and friends.  Gardens will be relocated to make them easier to tend in closer proximity to the house so when I can carve out five minutes, it can be a productive five minutes.  The green house will be used to start plants again this spring, but I will only be planting enough for personal use plus ten percent for loss.  Focus will be shifted back to the Christmas trees ensuring that they get the appropriate attention this year so we can have some saleable trees next year.  Chickens and eggs will remain a staple product and perhaps I can consider adding one or two value added items to the online farmers market.

We will be shoring up our existing ventures and getting ourselves out of debt.  No more livestock, new projects or new ventures will be added until we have gotten each of the existing enterprises to sustain themselves or each other with no additional inputs required from off farm income.  The search will begin for a sustainable heating option for the house so that our reliance on propane can be limited.  Solar options for electricity and water will be researched and accumulation of free or bartered components will begin for all of the above projects.

It was not an easy decision, but it is the smartest option for us at this time.  We will take the coming year to be better prepared, to hole in and get all of our outstanding debt taken care of and to think through all of my grand ideas and put numbers and time lines to each.  The decision to take up any of the grand ideas will be subject to intense scrutiny and if starting the next project will in any way cause detriment to our existing ventures it will be shelved or tossed completely.  I still hope to someday add a lactating animal or three to the farm along with fiber animals and the value added products associated with them, but not right now.

The blog will continue to share the details of the farm as it continues on its much smaller scale, but will also include things like meal-planning and weatherization.  Our pig is still in search of a boyfriend for the holidays and the rabbit shed has rafters but is still missing a roof.  Little man is better for the time we are spending together as it is certainly better quality then it was quantity.

I hope you will stay with us as we step back, reign in the craziness and start again with some valuable lessons learned under our belts.

Colors of the fog

Yesterday, Little man's father woke me shortly after 5:00 a.m. as he prepared to leave for his off-farm job to let me know that he had taken care of the household chores, but the animals still needed tending to.  The air was thick and soupy over the farm this morning and the light was more white than grey as I headed outside. 

Warmth radiates from the meat birds as I reach into their tractor to retrieve their waterer - they need to be moved into a larger tractor this week if we are going to get them to weight before the end of September.  'Teenage' pullets and roosters scatter as I approach the second tractor, they want little to do with humans especially when you aren't carrying a bucket.  Adult birds ready to be migrated into the 'big girl' coop occupy the third tractor, they show mild interest; however, empty hands mean no treats so they return to their scratching and primping as I pass. 

Drawing courtesy of porkfoodservice.org

Sounds of the world start to penetrate the fog - snuffles from the newest member of the farm carry through the grey from across the driveway, water bottles click as rabbits wake from their slumber, the big girls hearing me outside stretch their wings as they exit the coop and wait for me to open the gate to their pen.  Still early, the chickens will have to wait until after the hour of the fox's rounds before being set free to wander the farm for the day.  It is hard to believe that a fox has a schedule, but Little man's father and I see him faithfully each morning between 5:30 and 6:30 a.m.  He is rarely seen at any other time and so far we have been fortunate that our birds do not appear to have been bothered by him.  Our neighbor hasn't been so lucky and has lost seven or eight birds already this summer.  We have good roosters and I am certain that contributes to the health and safety of the flock.

Waterers filled and birds and bunnies appearing satisfied, I set across the yard through the now slightly pink fog as the sun begins its ascent from behind the mountain.  Her pasture is just barely visible from 150 feet away; my footfalls and the crunch of the gravel under my eight plus two 5-gallon pails of water reveal my approach.  Snuffles and snorts rise up from the tall grass on the far side of the pen where she has made her nest for the evening.  I change out her water and replenish ten gallons in her basin.  The desire for fresh food or water must be much less appetizing then the comfort of her spot, she remains nestled as I return to the house.

WMF became home to a rescue pig this week.  She is a four year old Gloucester Old Spot heritage breed pig - the kind of pig I have wanted since I returned to Vermont and considered raising pigs.  She didn't come with papers so we will not be registering her, but I am happy to have her with us just the same.  We are hoping to get at least one, possibly two farrowings from her before she stops breeding to keep the farm in pork and possibly for a little extra income.  Raised primarily on scraps she will not need supplemental grain unless Little man's father leaves his restaurant job and the restaurant who has been feeding her for the past year stops allowing us to collect their food waste.  Before December we will need to line up a boyfriend for her to ensure we have a spring farrowing.

In the garage the baby monitor continues to emit only white noise so I set about refilling water buckets for when we return to the farm later tonight after market and check on the status of feed and scraps for today and tomorrow morning.  Satisfied with the supplies on hand, I double-check for any ailments and head back into the house.  The barn is only now becoming visible across the yard as the grey-pink air seems to change to a muted purple.

My attention turns to the inside critters, water bowls cleaned and refilled, feed dishes filled.  My lunch is prepared and put into my cooler.  Coffee is placed into a thermal mug to keep it warm as the coffee pot's automatic shut off is about the engage and the dark, life-giving liquid will certainly be cold by the time I am ready to leave.  On to a shower to wash off the accumulation of dirt and sweat from morning chores.  Exiting the shower, Little man wakes and begins telling the tales of his dreams and what he plans on having for breakfast.

The last thirty minutes before leaving the farm pass in a blur as I open the chicken pen along the way to the car with cooler, diaper bag, child, coffee and keys in hand.  Heading out of the driveway the headlights reflect a faded yellow against the ever so slowly dissipating fog.  The tops of the Chirstmas trees poke out from among the tall grass, yet one more chore that will need to be done before the snow flies.  Little man waves his cup of cool milk and hollers, 'Bye bye Pig!' as he goes to child care and I head to my off farm job.

And to think - I used to fly out of bed, check my messages while brushing my teeth and showering then run out the door to the big city in a fog of car exhaust.  I am much happier in this morning's kind of fog.

Chicken tractors and transplant trauma

More chickens are hatching this week which requires more houses to hold them.  Yesterday Little Man, his father and I tore apart a couple of pallets and together with some leftover fencing, crafted another chicken tractor.

The boards were pulled from the top and bottom of the pallet.  Eight of them were notched at the ends and nailed together lengthwise to create eight-foot long sides.  Three were cut in half to make the upright supports on the corners and the middle of the eight-foot span.  The 2x4 center pieces of the pallet were ripped in half and created the cross-bracing for the ends of the box.  A couple of pieces of scrap plywood and USB were nailed to the top to create a hinged access point and the whole thing was wrapped in hardware cloth.  Finally some tarp material, salvaged from our wind damaged portable garage, was tacked around the sides to both keep the smallest of the birds in and predators out.  A new waterer was assembled from an extra feed dish and a lidded bucket with a hole drilled in the side.

Three laying birds will be added to the flock of 31 who call the chicken coop home.
50 meat birds will go into the older, large chicken tractor tonight after the hens are removed.
19 pullets were moved from the small chicken tractor to the new, larger one.
15 (and counting) new pullets went into the older brooder box.

This afternoon six holds will be added to the twenty four currently in the garage, to house the new litters of growing meat rabbits.

This morning, in between re-housing critters and regular chores, I have been trying to finish planting the garden with Little Man in tow.  He has been extremely helpful.  For each flat of transplants Momma puts in, Little Man follows behind with his new shovel and rake and pulls one or two back out to give to Momma.  I think I will wait to work in the garden until his father gets home.

Making memories

My stepson's first fish of the
weekend in 2007

Memorial Day weekend is the unofficial start of summer for many people.  Summer homes are opened; campers, tents and RVs are awakened from their winter slumber and brought forth into the state parks and campgrounds all around the country.  Here in northwestern Vermont, this weekend marks our family's unofficial family re-union weekend.  Each year extended family returns to the farm and camps out in and around the family camp on the lakeshore.  No invitations are mailed, no reminder phone calls made, no grocery list or meal plan is set forth.  You show up, bring your own food and choice of adult beverage and have a wonderful time.

The same stories are re-told again about lobster boils with the freshest of catch only eight hours out of the ocean when it reached the farm, and new memories are made as the next generation hooks their first perch or cooks their first s'more at the campfire.  This year even the threat of snow didn't keep the family from returning.  No tents were erected on the soggy lawn and the campfire is struggling against the relentless rain, but the family is here making new memories.

As the years pass we remember the best of times and as family members pass, we remember them fondly and the way they always cooked perfect steak on the fire even in the pouring rain.  The newest members of the family play hard inside of camp out of the weather eating their meals sitting on the stairs like I used to do when I was a child.  Conversations of years past and a better way of life seem to pass across everyone's lips at some point throughout the weekend.  Older folks have given up waking in a chilly camp to stoke the wood stove for the necessary warmth and comfort of a hotel room.  The next generation opted for the hard floor and warmth inside of camp instead of braving the weather outside in a tent which may or may not be filled with water in the morning.

Currently Little man is snoozing through the clatter and squawk of the latest batch of chickens hatching in the incubator.  Once our afternoon/evening chores are done, we will return to camp and gather around the campfire, weather be darned, and tell stories - some new and some classic re-runs, enjoy a couple of adult beverages and check off another year of great memories.

Little man, his father and I continue to farm in northwestern Vermont.  I have been remiss, no downright absent - in sharing the goings on here.  Writing this blog is almost a guilty pleasure for me and with so much that needs to happen during the day, I don't make the time to write.  One of the older members of my family said to me this morning that he enjoys reading the goings on of the farm from his home 300 miles away.  Through my words he remembers making some of the same mistakes, cringes at the thought of us taking on another venture and wondering how we can keep up with it all and manage to raise such a wonderful son. 

I will work on sharing more of the story.  Even without my being here for the past month, you still come to visit.  I don't realize how many people's lives I touched by starting this blog.  It is wonderful to have you here with us.  I am back in the saddle!