First Frost

We had our first frost this week, and I'd come up with a pretty good plan for protecting our late season crops. I found some pex piping, water pipe, that comes in 100' rolls at the local home improvement warehouse. We were able to cut that to length pretty easily with a pipe cutter to create a low hoop-style row cover, which I then covered with some old sheets.


Voila! Instant row cover, which worked quite well and none too soon. Being outside, working together and watching the cold front move in—the change in the light, the sky, the wind, the temperature—was really amazing. The next morning the basil was totally zapped anywhere that wasn't insulated. The beans were a bit more hardy, but the new growth still took a hit.

We harvested the last of our green tomatoes and green peppers, and I just put up a huge batch of green beans. I was able to save the basil from the middle of the plants and pull together one last big batch of pesto for freezing, and I got a bunch of this second batch of dill vacuum sealed and frozen to pull out over the winter—it makes a delicious dijon sauce for salmon among many other things. Jules is going to miss coming out in the morning to harvest raspberries, but man, is she going to love it next year when we hopefully have more than just a handful. I can't wait to make jam!

Ahimsa

I know, I know. How can this photo possibly have any bearing on ahimsa?

Well, it's complicated—as is life.

Before I continue, I wish to recognize that much of what follows is a compromised version of ahimsa, but this version is what works for my family where we are, a crucial factor in my private definition and reasoning.

Exploring a Buddhist path for myself has meant multiple things to me at different times: it has meant vegetarianism and daily meditation; it has also meant mindful meat eating and meditation through living.

After a year and half of practicing vegetarianism while my family continued to enjoy meat, I found myself at a crossroads, needing to redefine where my practice was heading and how my family fit into it.

First and foremost, I am a householder, a role that is fundamental to my being and crucial to my interpretation and assimilation of the dharma. I came to a point where I needed to ask myself where I stood in relation to my commitment to vegetarianism and how that would impact my relationship with my family.

Was I, for instance, willing to force my own values on others, and if so, wasn't that a form of violence? If I was not willing to do this (which I was not), then I found myself face to face with the dilemma of what kind of meat my family would be eating and what role I was willing to take in supporting that consumption.

As I meditated on the dilemma, I determined that I could continue to buy grocery store meat, which supported the factory farming methods I loathed; I could expand my search for local sources and continue to pay top dollar for someone else to do the difficult work and take on the karmic pricetag for me; or I could consider raising the meat ourselves, which would not only ensure the quality of life and meat, but which also held the potential to transform my own family's relationship with the meat on their plates.

Raising our own meat, I reasoned, would put us all face to face with the animal whose life we were taking, creating the opportunity for each of us to become more mindful of what the meat on our plate meant—where it came from, what went into raising it, and how it was to honor that life even in the taking of it.

Also to consider was the affect my journey was having on my relationship with my husband. While he was not seeking to impose his values on me any more than I sought to impose my own upon him, he nevertheless mourned the loss of what he considered a valuable commonground and source of joy and connection in our relationship: the mutual creation and enjoyment of gourmet meals, along with the wine and meat that are a large part of that lifestyle for him and for us as a couple for more than ten years of our lives.

I had changed my path while he had not, and though I was free to continue my journey into Buddhist philosophy, I needed to find a way to do so while also honoring the path on which I already walked hand in hand with those I love. At what point, I asked myself, was I doing more harm by putting my values before my relationships than I would be doing by finding a way to live them together?

My own journey into homesteading has much to do with my desire to feed my family in a way that's both healthy and humane while also nurturing the earth that supports us all. By raising our own meat, as well as other food, we all have a new found respect for the life it represents and the level of care and effort that goes into bringing meat to our table.

By raising our own meat, by being responsible rather than abdicating that role to others, we are able to honor life itself by becoming more mindful of what and how much we consume. Our meat consumption has drastically reduced, and we no longer support large-scale meat production or consumption.

Ahimsa, I believe, looks differently for those walking different paths. This is what ahimsa looks for me on this lifepath that I walk at this moment.

This photo, this refrigerator full of chicken carcasses, represents the humane treatment and processing of poultry. It represents the mindful consumption of meat throughout the year, as it requires careful consideration of portion size and meat-oriented meals, as we've consciously increased the number of our vegetarian meals while reducing the number of carnivorous meals.

No longer does the bulk styrofoam package of boneless chicken breasts translate into two weeks worth of meals instead of the 14 chickens it really represents; instead, we see it for what it is. We do the math in our heads and consider how ludicrous it would be to attempt the harvest of a chicken breast per person per meal—how wasteful and wanton that would be on a practical level.

As we move closer to the production of our own food, we become closer to the value of life itself and closer to the earth that sustains it. That, to me, is a version of ahimsa—not ahimsa for a monk, certainly, but a version of ahimsa that works for my family in this moment, honoring the spirit of the precept if not the letter of the law.

Oven-dried tomatoes

Finally, I have time to post again--whew! Before the Live and Learn Conference I harvested and processed as much as I could, just so I could be away for a few days without worrying about all that was going on in my garden without me. Obviously, I made lots of paste and whole tomatoes from the San Marzanos, and I froze many of the sungolds raw. The grape tomatoes weren't quite as big as I would hoping they would be. I'd planted them, hoping I could stuff them with some goat cheese like cocktail tomatoes, but they were pretty small and not as good fresh, imo, as the sungolds.

It began to look as if they would languish on the vine, so I decided to try drying them. Not wanting to buy a dehydrater, I made do with my ovens, though they only go down to 170 degrees, not the 140 recommended by most sources. I left them in for somewhere between 12 and 24 hours, and though not all of the tomatoes dried completely, the ovens did a pretty good job.

When all was said and done, I couldn't have sealed the oven-dried tomatoes for dry storage because of the moisture still left in several, but they turned out to be absolutely delicious! I opted to vacuum seal and freeze them and look forward to trying them out this winter. I'll definitely be planting these again next year, as Jim and I love sundried tomatoes on sandwiches and in pasta. How wonderful to be able to use those from our very own gardens!

Summer's Bounty

Over the past couple of weeks, I've been preserving tomatoes like crazy--tomatoes of all sorts. Mini-gold gumballs frozen raw to preserve our "Goldnuggets" and "Sungolds"; paste and whole blanched "San Marzanos"; and crinkly, deep reddish-brown oven-dried "Cherry Red" grape tomatoes. At some point I simply stopped trying to keep an accurate count of the weight, but I estimate at least 40 lbs of tomatoes have made their way through my kitchen in the past two days alone.

Heirloom Harvests

This year, I planted several heirloom vegetables: Kentucky Wonder pole beans, also known as "Old Homestead" and "Texas Pole," was introduced before 1864; San Marzano, classic Italian paste tomatoes; and Tom Thumb, a dwarf heirloom popping corn.


The Tom Thumb plants yielded one or two ears per stalk, which, as you can see, really are about the size of a thumb.



We had lots of fun harvesting and were very excited to try our very own popcorn, though we all agreed that popcorn must have been a special treat, considering how much space, time and effort it took to produce! I began shucking the corn one afternoon, and Sam soon joined me. My thumb soon became sore, so my plan was to leave the remaining ears till the following day, but they proved irresistable to family members. Jim immediately jumped on board when he came home, so Sam joined in to show him how it was done, and upon returning home from the neighbor's house, the girls immediately joined in the round as well.Many hands really do make quick work!


Alas, the popping was not so successful. We will likely try some different techniques, considering we have quite a bit with which to experiment, but we won't likely be planting "Tom Thumb" again next year.

Springfield Farm

Last week, we took a small fieldtrip to Springfield Farm north of Baltimore to purchase some Narragansett hens. Although it was more than an hour drive, the kids had fun once we were there, checking out all the animals, choosing the hens and devouring a pint of cookies and cream ice cream from a local dairy. We were able to choose either one month old or two month old birds and ended up going with two of the older birds both because we'd have a better chance of choosing hens and because they'd be basically the same age as the birds we hatched out at home.


Although we ended up with two males from our hatching, buying two females from another breeder ended up making good sense to broaden genetics for our flock. I had planned on incubating more eggs next spring in order to do this, but the way it worked out saved us a year in the long run. This is a photo, I believe, of the hens' mother whose coloring is very light. In the pen right next to them were several peacocks, which completely captured the girls' hearts. If it weren't for the incredibly loud noise they make, I'd have had two girls begging for some at our home.



While there, we were able to see the breed of pig we're considering for our farm, Tamworths. Known for their flavor, lean meat and ability to do well on pasture. Sam and his dad are really looking forward to raising some feeder pigs for meat, but Jules is set on raising one to keep. Our big research project this year is to learn as much as we can about the Tamworths, so we'll be able to integrate them into our farm. Designing and locating the pen will depend in large part on where we can locate water and where we'd like to locate our fields. Our trip to Springfield gave us some good ideas and some visuals that will help our planning.

Bountiful Harvest

We've been loving garden life again, and eating delicious, naturally grown food is like nothing else. Anyone who's a gardener will understand how incredibly difficult it was for me to leave my gardens when we moved last year. Moving in June meant all my effort would be enjoyed by the new owners while I moved into a home with a clean slate--fun to create, but a whole season of herbs and edibles lost! Bittersweet. Once again, however, we have herbs for flavoring dishes, greens and our very first tomatoes are beginning to ripen, which Jim totally stole for his blog! Those on the blog ring have inspired me to begin taking some pictures of the foods we create--thanks to everyone for being a part of Homesteadin' Unschoolers!

This year has also brought some wonderful expansion as we have more room and more sun for growing our delicacies. I bought some broccoli seedlings, which have come in beautifully, and I've just finished harvesting and freezing several batches after we gorged ourselves on fresh harvests. We've also been able to broaden our tomato repertoire and have enjoyed the "Gold Nugget" cherry tomatoes that have been the first to ripen. I'm looking forward to the grape tomatoes and the sungolds, which are delicious! Our dwarf popcorn has tassled out and is growing, and Sam and I are oh so excited to try our very own popcorn. I have a couple of acorn squash already, and a few more butternuts growing on the vines. I've been diligently picking the flowers off my strawberries, which at first was very difficult, but the plants are growing so nicely now that it's become easier.