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Lotta darker posts here lately.
I'm stuck in or near the bad part of my cycle, due to some medication stuff. This means I'll interpret stuff more poorly, feel worse in general, and have significantly less energy to address issues (as well as having some contributory stuff like body pain).
I've lost my interest and enthusiasm for figuring out how to communicate with people. Whether this is somewhat related to the cycle thing, whether it's part of the burnout and just lack of ability to handle the cognitive load, whether it's my PDA pushing back on just how required it is in the world to mask, whether it's slivers left over from the relationship with Tucker where communication was actively counterproductive, could be anything. But I'm just not interested anymore, which means communication is an uncomfortable slog up an enormous wall of work.
My ratio of humaning-for-pleasure and humaning-for-work is skewed.
I have a lot of responsibility at the farm. Animals are mostly locked up, I have a ton of pigs, it means more carrying more stuff to more locations, plus more auxiliary stuff like going to the next town over to buy food, etc. There are also more things that can go wrong, and not having a vet around is starting to tell in various ways; I need to figure out how to get the house animals dewormed, for example. A lot of that kicks up my PDA, which reduces the amount of pleasurable stuff I can do in other spheres.
I'm not feeling super miserable or anything, though. This is a space where I can feel my boundaries very clearly, and I'm doing a lot of observation and data gathering in it. At some point the meds thing will be sorted and I'll bounce out of it; if I spend enough time here I'll even have direction when I bounce.
This is kind of the essence of winter for me: things are quietly turning, readying for growth and change, but it's not time to move on that yet. It's ok to rest here and let my boundaries defend themselves: ok to recover slowly from the thing with Tucker, from realizing the world will never accommodate me easily and I'll have to self-accommodate, from expectations of community and cohabitation sifting quietly into ash. Things are definitely starting to grow in that ash, small yet, but they're coming.
It's like the Deck said: don't move yet. Just sit, and exist awhile.
I'm stuck in or near the bad part of my cycle, due to some medication stuff. This means I'll interpret stuff more poorly, feel worse in general, and have significantly less energy to address issues (as well as having some contributory stuff like body pain).
I've lost my interest and enthusiasm for figuring out how to communicate with people. Whether this is somewhat related to the cycle thing, whether it's part of the burnout and just lack of ability to handle the cognitive load, whether it's my PDA pushing back on just how required it is in the world to mask, whether it's slivers left over from the relationship with Tucker where communication was actively counterproductive, could be anything. But I'm just not interested anymore, which means communication is an uncomfortable slog up an enormous wall of work.
My ratio of humaning-for-pleasure and humaning-for-work is skewed.
I have a lot of responsibility at the farm. Animals are mostly locked up, I have a ton of pigs, it means more carrying more stuff to more locations, plus more auxiliary stuff like going to the next town over to buy food, etc. There are also more things that can go wrong, and not having a vet around is starting to tell in various ways; I need to figure out how to get the house animals dewormed, for example. A lot of that kicks up my PDA, which reduces the amount of pleasurable stuff I can do in other spheres.
I'm not feeling super miserable or anything, though. This is a space where I can feel my boundaries very clearly, and I'm doing a lot of observation and data gathering in it. At some point the meds thing will be sorted and I'll bounce out of it; if I spend enough time here I'll even have direction when I bounce.
This is kind of the essence of winter for me: things are quietly turning, readying for growth and change, but it's not time to move on that yet. It's ok to rest here and let my boundaries defend themselves: ok to recover slowly from the thing with Tucker, from realizing the world will never accommodate me easily and I'll have to self-accommodate, from expectations of community and cohabitation sifting quietly into ash. Things are definitely starting to grow in that ash, small yet, but they're coming.
It's like the Deck said: don't move yet. Just sit, and exist awhile.
One of the questions in the autism assessment was something along the lines of, did you line toys up or sort them as a kid?
Well, it's fall. If spring is for sowing, summer is for harvesting, then autumn is for transforming. And transforming looks a lot like processing three roosters into fifteen jars, taking a clump of a thousand tomato seeds on a paper towel and winnowing them apart and separating them into packets, or taking lumps of fat and rendering them into amber lard which gets zipped into bars of shining ivory soap.
It's for transforming chaos into order, for taking the bounty scattered across the house, capturing it in geometric shapes, and shelving it in shining lines according to its properties: meat, fruit, vegetable, seed, soap.
Sowing and daydreaming brings great satisfaction. Reaping the harvest gives great satisfaction. When so much of that has been done that I'm glutted on it it's time to sort my toys in beautiful piles of abundance and line them up in shining lines.
Well, it's fall. If spring is for sowing, summer is for harvesting, then autumn is for transforming. And transforming looks a lot like processing three roosters into fifteen jars, taking a clump of a thousand tomato seeds on a paper towel and winnowing them apart and separating them into packets, or taking lumps of fat and rendering them into amber lard which gets zipped into bars of shining ivory soap.
It's for transforming chaos into order, for taking the bounty scattered across the house, capturing it in geometric shapes, and shelving it in shining lines according to its properties: meat, fruit, vegetable, seed, soap.
Sowing and daydreaming brings great satisfaction. Reaping the harvest gives great satisfaction. When so much of that has been done that I'm glutted on it it's time to sort my toys in beautiful piles of abundance and line them up in shining lines.
Marking the seasons
Oct. 2nd, 2022 09:31 amCleaned the chimney yesterday and made the first fire.
The birch is damp and hard to light, but I expect after all that pine everything will be hard to light.
Today the downstairs is up to 24C after the 16-18C that I've been holding it at with electricity. It's lovely. My muscles ache less.
The birch is damp and hard to light, but I expect after all that pine everything will be hard to light.
Today the downstairs is up to 24C after the 16-18C that I've been holding it at with electricity. It's lovely. My muscles ache less.
Every day something new
Sep. 27th, 2022 10:33 amI made garden signs for all my roses and gooseberries. Soon will do cherries and haskaps and apples, at least the ones I know the names of. These are signpost-style, with a stake and painted sign screwed to it. My plastic tags were not holding their marks, I guess sharpies have been reformulated, and so I lost some names that way. I lost some other names because crows and geese like the tags. So, wooden signs seem both practical in an enduring way and kind of charming. Now if only I had pretty painting handwriting, but I was not turning this into a stenciling project.
I found two more squash out there that looked pretty ripe, hiding among the weeds where they were sheltered from frost.
Josh helped me find a dairy crate full of relatively ripe cascade ruby gold cobs, so I'm calling that more of a success than I earlier anticipated. We'll be looking through the painted mountain today. The plants were definitely frost-nipped but I don't think the cobs themselves were harmed.
It's neat to be out in the corn and hear that dry, rustling noise of the leaves. Humans have been listening to that sound for many thousands of years as they bring in the harvest.
I've done a bunch of mixed pickles as documented on my preserving site, urbandryad on dreamwidth (I just keep recipes there). Basically I've done a couple gallons with my zesty brine at half strength for salt and sugar, a couple gallons with a lightly sweet brine, and I'll do a couple gallons with a salt-only brine. all have bay leaves and pepper, I forgot the garlic in the lightly sweet ones. Oops. The veg mix was largely brought up from the big farm on Josh's way from the city, it's more-or-less 1 part cauliflower, 1 part carrot, 1 part green beans, 1 part hot peppers, 1/4 part celery. The goal is a moderately hot pickle mix to eat with charcuterie, everything bite-sized.
Meanwhile Black Chunk (who has still not got a better name) had 8 piglets, and she's doing well with them. Lotta piglets this fall it seems. Ugh I guess I need to castrate, better do that while Josh is here. I will probably miss Tucker's calming presence for it.
A chicken in the bottom chicken run got huge adobe balls on her claws, they must have accumulated through iterations of mud (the ducks splash by the water a lot), dust (everywhere else in the run, it's been a dry summer), and straw/wood shavings from inside the coop. It took Josh and I roughly 3 hours to soak them (did nothing), chip away at the very edges with pliers delicately so as not to hurt wherever her toes were in the balls, and then finally pry the last bits off. I do not know why she got it and no others did. Her toes inside the balls were fine, though she did lose a fingernail by getting loose enough to shake her foot when we were part done and... you know, just don't think about it too hard, let's just say it was another weird and uncomfortable farming moment. She's good now, I gave her a penicillin shot for the one raw bit of the toe where the mud was rubbing and the toenail, I figured her body could use the help, and put her back in with everyone. She's lifting her feet ridiculously high as if trying to compensate for the weight that is no longer there, but is walking and perching just fine. Poor girl. Also I'm much less suspicious of cobb houses now, my goodness that stuff was durable. Clay soil, wow does it behave in unexpected ways sometimes.
Meanwhile I am going to keep one of the americauna roosters from my friend in town, and give another to a friend who has a couple hens and wants to let them hatch out more chickens in spring. That means 7 going into the soup pot this week, which is manageable. I've had the propane ring on the deck and that makes canning a lot more comfortable given the humidity situation in here, not sure if I'll can the roosters immediately or freeze them a bit but I'm more likely to can them now.
Asparagus planted. Daffodills, chiondoxia & relateds, and muscari ordered. These are all supposed to be vole-resistant, we'll see how it goes.
I found two more squash out there that looked pretty ripe, hiding among the weeds where they were sheltered from frost.
Josh helped me find a dairy crate full of relatively ripe cascade ruby gold cobs, so I'm calling that more of a success than I earlier anticipated. We'll be looking through the painted mountain today. The plants were definitely frost-nipped but I don't think the cobs themselves were harmed.
It's neat to be out in the corn and hear that dry, rustling noise of the leaves. Humans have been listening to that sound for many thousands of years as they bring in the harvest.
I've done a bunch of mixed pickles as documented on my preserving site, urbandryad on dreamwidth (I just keep recipes there). Basically I've done a couple gallons with my zesty brine at half strength for salt and sugar, a couple gallons with a lightly sweet brine, and I'll do a couple gallons with a salt-only brine. all have bay leaves and pepper, I forgot the garlic in the lightly sweet ones. Oops. The veg mix was largely brought up from the big farm on Josh's way from the city, it's more-or-less 1 part cauliflower, 1 part carrot, 1 part green beans, 1 part hot peppers, 1/4 part celery. The goal is a moderately hot pickle mix to eat with charcuterie, everything bite-sized.
Meanwhile Black Chunk (who has still not got a better name) had 8 piglets, and she's doing well with them. Lotta piglets this fall it seems. Ugh I guess I need to castrate, better do that while Josh is here. I will probably miss Tucker's calming presence for it.
A chicken in the bottom chicken run got huge adobe balls on her claws, they must have accumulated through iterations of mud (the ducks splash by the water a lot), dust (everywhere else in the run, it's been a dry summer), and straw/wood shavings from inside the coop. It took Josh and I roughly 3 hours to soak them (did nothing), chip away at the very edges with pliers delicately so as not to hurt wherever her toes were in the balls, and then finally pry the last bits off. I do not know why she got it and no others did. Her toes inside the balls were fine, though she did lose a fingernail by getting loose enough to shake her foot when we were part done and... you know, just don't think about it too hard, let's just say it was another weird and uncomfortable farming moment. She's good now, I gave her a penicillin shot for the one raw bit of the toe where the mud was rubbing and the toenail, I figured her body could use the help, and put her back in with everyone. She's lifting her feet ridiculously high as if trying to compensate for the weight that is no longer there, but is walking and perching just fine. Poor girl. Also I'm much less suspicious of cobb houses now, my goodness that stuff was durable. Clay soil, wow does it behave in unexpected ways sometimes.
Meanwhile I am going to keep one of the americauna roosters from my friend in town, and give another to a friend who has a couple hens and wants to let them hatch out more chickens in spring. That means 7 going into the soup pot this week, which is manageable. I've had the propane ring on the deck and that makes canning a lot more comfortable given the humidity situation in here, not sure if I'll can the roosters immediately or freeze them a bit but I'm more likely to can them now.
Asparagus planted. Daffodills, chiondoxia & relateds, and muscari ordered. These are all supposed to be vole-resistant, we'll see how it goes.
Every season is the best season
Sep. 16th, 2022 09:23 amI do not understand how I can have so much trouble with most transitions, but also do so well with seasons. Still, I do well with seasons. I love the seasonality of this place. I'm fully ready for each season in turn to shift my focus and my activities. Maybe it's the predictability, the feeling of processing through familiar sets of activities and so I can improve or alter what I did previously but don't need to start again from nothing. Maybe it's the feeling of building on last season's work so I never feel disconnected from the past, and knowing next season will build on this season's work so I don't feel that abrupt slicing loss of transition.
Either way, gardening is pretty much over and I'm ok with that (!?!!!???? !! ? !). I have turnips, the last of the soup peas, and some beets to bring in. I have the favas to look over, and the beans to see if any pods ripened. It's been too dry for me to plant winter grains, I daren't run the tiller or I'll turn my soil into dust, so I'll till once the rains start and wait to plant grains till spring. Maybe I'll do a test patch of barley. I've dug one hole for next year's as-yet-unordered apple trees, and I'll try and at least half-dig the holes for all of them, so when they arrive in the thick of spring planting I can just bang them in the holes and be done. The freeze/thaw will loosen the soil at the edge of the holes and help prevent circling roots in my clay, too, and I won't have to remeasure my circles of protection.
I do still have a couple roses to put in the ground, and the garlic that isn't yet arrived, too. But still, hoses and nurturing and watching and trying to guess what'll happen-- that's over. I have a half-dozen dairy crates of corn drying in the woodstove room. There is another dairy crate of corn (saskatoon white) waiting to be shucked, and a crate of melons (none ripened on the vine, but I'm going to let them ripen as far as they can and take seeds from those that have fully formed seeds), and maybe 4 flats of green tomatoes (many of which ripened in the last couple days, gotta get on that). I have two shelves of squash, and outside there is half a bucket of beans and a bucket of cucumbers that need to be pickled.
The barley crop is in, a fact that needs its own post to describe how much of a joy and a relief it is. I don't grow barley but the farmers one town over do; that's why I mostly fed my pigs until this year's shortage. Straw is available, $55 per large bale (that's the 3 x 3 x 8' bales) and I'll be getting some the week Josh comes up and we'll figure out how to unload (normally it's tying the bale to a tree and driving the pickup away from the tree, but I'd like to stack them two deep).
With straw comes the ability to lay in my king stropheria mushroom bed for next spring. I need to put it in the shade, somewhere that doesn't flood. Problem is, the shade is what stays frozen till late in the year, I might split the block and try two places.
With the barley harvest comes barley. Rolled barley, or barley and oat chop, is $450/ton this year. The bagged feed I've been using is $1100/ton, and in the last month I went through a ton and a half of feed. So, just financially, this is a relief. I've been running a negative balance on my credit card the last couple months, just absorbing the higher feed costs, because I can't not feed the animals and I couldn't butcher while it was hot.
It's also a relief to have the barley, and soon the barley and oats, because feed makes a big difference to the texture of the animals' fat. Barley and oats make a firmer fat, while the bagged feed make a softer fat. I prefer the firmer fat. I've read a bunch on this, I guess feeding on acorns makes a softer fat which folks like more in prosciutto but which is not so great in bacon, for instance. Acorns also supply tannins, which keep the fat from going rancid as quickly (smoke does the same thing, which is why so much rustically-preserved pork is smoked). Soft fat is hard to manage for slicing thinly, it's hard to butcher with, and I'm not as fond of the texture for eating. I'm of half a mind to give the pigs a full month on barley before I butcher so the fat can convert a little, rather than get the butcher in as soon as possible. Honestly I may not be able to get the butcher up sooner anyhow, it's a busy season. And my mind may change once it starts freezing enough to put the hoses away and I need to carry water by hand for over a dozen pigs.
I also have four little uncastratated suckling pigs I need to slaughter as suckling pigs shortly. Three of the four are living in the lean-to greenhouse and associated enclosure in a life of luxury as of yesterday; I need to catch the last one and put him in there. I do hate catching piglets, they scream at just the wrong frequency for my nervous system and then the whole herd of pigs starts barking and grunting menacingly and following me around trying to rescue the babies. I understand why the bears stay away. I wouldif I could, my heart is always pounding by the end of it and it takes awhile for the adrenaline to dissipate.
I always tell myself I'll set up a big carrier with feed in it just outside the main pigpen so the escapee piglets get used to it, and then I can just close them in and carry them away. Maybe I'll actually do that this time? There is a new set of piglets this week, and one mama sow I'm very impressed with, she'll be a keeper.
So I suppose this is the season where my attention is turning from garden to animals, from harvest to slaughter, and then from there to seed sorting once the seeds are dried.
I'm also feeling the pull towards sewing, towards warm snuggly clothing. It's still a fairly recent revelation that clothing doesn't have to hurt my body as long as it's made of the right materials and tailored right, and I'm looking forward to playing around with that this winter. The gears are in motion for me to approach that activity in a seamless transition, nosing around at patterns, clearing a table for a sewing table, cutting out patterns, making a mock-up for loose leggings and one for a short sweater or wrap dress to wear over leggings, just a little bit of something every week as the snow comes and everything else subsides.
Meanwhile Tucker is here. I had wanted to do a bonfire with him, as I've intended to do every year for the last five or so, but the burning ban is still on despite the frost -- did I mention it's dry out? -- so maybe we'll try to just arrange the pile for his next visit. In the meantime I get snuggles and doubtless a shared brunch of two, which are much-needed.
Either way, gardening is pretty much over and I'm ok with that (!?!!!???? !! ? !). I have turnips, the last of the soup peas, and some beets to bring in. I have the favas to look over, and the beans to see if any pods ripened. It's been too dry for me to plant winter grains, I daren't run the tiller or I'll turn my soil into dust, so I'll till once the rains start and wait to plant grains till spring. Maybe I'll do a test patch of barley. I've dug one hole for next year's as-yet-unordered apple trees, and I'll try and at least half-dig the holes for all of them, so when they arrive in the thick of spring planting I can just bang them in the holes and be done. The freeze/thaw will loosen the soil at the edge of the holes and help prevent circling roots in my clay, too, and I won't have to remeasure my circles of protection.
I do still have a couple roses to put in the ground, and the garlic that isn't yet arrived, too. But still, hoses and nurturing and watching and trying to guess what'll happen-- that's over. I have a half-dozen dairy crates of corn drying in the woodstove room. There is another dairy crate of corn (saskatoon white) waiting to be shucked, and a crate of melons (none ripened on the vine, but I'm going to let them ripen as far as they can and take seeds from those that have fully formed seeds), and maybe 4 flats of green tomatoes (many of which ripened in the last couple days, gotta get on that). I have two shelves of squash, and outside there is half a bucket of beans and a bucket of cucumbers that need to be pickled.
The barley crop is in, a fact that needs its own post to describe how much of a joy and a relief it is. I don't grow barley but the farmers one town over do; that's why I mostly fed my pigs until this year's shortage. Straw is available, $55 per large bale (that's the 3 x 3 x 8' bales) and I'll be getting some the week Josh comes up and we'll figure out how to unload (normally it's tying the bale to a tree and driving the pickup away from the tree, but I'd like to stack them two deep).
With straw comes the ability to lay in my king stropheria mushroom bed for next spring. I need to put it in the shade, somewhere that doesn't flood. Problem is, the shade is what stays frozen till late in the year, I might split the block and try two places.
With the barley harvest comes barley. Rolled barley, or barley and oat chop, is $450/ton this year. The bagged feed I've been using is $1100/ton, and in the last month I went through a ton and a half of feed. So, just financially, this is a relief. I've been running a negative balance on my credit card the last couple months, just absorbing the higher feed costs, because I can't not feed the animals and I couldn't butcher while it was hot.
It's also a relief to have the barley, and soon the barley and oats, because feed makes a big difference to the texture of the animals' fat. Barley and oats make a firmer fat, while the bagged feed make a softer fat. I prefer the firmer fat. I've read a bunch on this, I guess feeding on acorns makes a softer fat which folks like more in prosciutto but which is not so great in bacon, for instance. Acorns also supply tannins, which keep the fat from going rancid as quickly (smoke does the same thing, which is why so much rustically-preserved pork is smoked). Soft fat is hard to manage for slicing thinly, it's hard to butcher with, and I'm not as fond of the texture for eating. I'm of half a mind to give the pigs a full month on barley before I butcher so the fat can convert a little, rather than get the butcher in as soon as possible. Honestly I may not be able to get the butcher up sooner anyhow, it's a busy season. And my mind may change once it starts freezing enough to put the hoses away and I need to carry water by hand for over a dozen pigs.
I also have four little uncastratated suckling pigs I need to slaughter as suckling pigs shortly. Three of the four are living in the lean-to greenhouse and associated enclosure in a life of luxury as of yesterday; I need to catch the last one and put him in there. I do hate catching piglets, they scream at just the wrong frequency for my nervous system and then the whole herd of pigs starts barking and grunting menacingly and following me around trying to rescue the babies. I understand why the bears stay away. I wouldif I could, my heart is always pounding by the end of it and it takes awhile for the adrenaline to dissipate.
I always tell myself I'll set up a big carrier with feed in it just outside the main pigpen so the escapee piglets get used to it, and then I can just close them in and carry them away. Maybe I'll actually do that this time? There is a new set of piglets this week, and one mama sow I'm very impressed with, she'll be a keeper.
So I suppose this is the season where my attention is turning from garden to animals, from harvest to slaughter, and then from there to seed sorting once the seeds are dried.
I'm also feeling the pull towards sewing, towards warm snuggly clothing. It's still a fairly recent revelation that clothing doesn't have to hurt my body as long as it's made of the right materials and tailored right, and I'm looking forward to playing around with that this winter. The gears are in motion for me to approach that activity in a seamless transition, nosing around at patterns, clearing a table for a sewing table, cutting out patterns, making a mock-up for loose leggings and one for a short sweater or wrap dress to wear over leggings, just a little bit of something every week as the snow comes and everything else subsides.
Meanwhile Tucker is here. I had wanted to do a bonfire with him, as I've intended to do every year for the last five or so, but the burning ban is still on despite the frost -- did I mention it's dry out? -- so maybe we'll try to just arrange the pile for his next visit. In the meantime I get snuggles and doubtless a shared brunch of two, which are much-needed.
Dead dark by 8:30
Getting hard to see the yellow kilometer markers against leaves turning yellow on the forestry roads.
Said roads crawling with hunters anyways.
Bears around every corner, coming in.
House groaning with food.
Cats swarming me as soon as I sit down.
Turning on the big outside light every night to help the dogs with the bears.
Everything burning more calories than normal.
Geese and ducks in ultra-gorging mode.
Piglets everywhere.
RVs everywhere.
Frost in the mornings, outlining leaves on the open slopes.
The slightest resurgence of blackflies.
Where do I put all this stuff?
So much to do before snowfall, how do I prioritize?
Plants everywhere indoors.
Time to excavate the woodstove, it's not a sidetable anymore.
Watching the fieldwork days dwindle as I check off the samples completed.
Thinking of roofs, all the time.
Getting hard to see the yellow kilometer markers against leaves turning yellow on the forestry roads.
Said roads crawling with hunters anyways.
Bears around every corner, coming in.
House groaning with food.
Cats swarming me as soon as I sit down.
Turning on the big outside light every night to help the dogs with the bears.
Everything burning more calories than normal.
Geese and ducks in ultra-gorging mode.
Piglets everywhere.
RVs everywhere.
Frost in the mornings, outlining leaves on the open slopes.
The slightest resurgence of blackflies.
Where do I put all this stuff?
So much to do before snowfall, how do I prioritize?
Plants everywhere indoors.
Time to excavate the woodstove, it's not a sidetable anymore.
Watching the fieldwork days dwindle as I check off the samples completed.
Thinking of roofs, all the time.
Outdoor pepper update
Sep. 7th, 2022 03:18 pmI didn't get everything potted up, and didn't get anything into the ground. Still, this is what fruited best:
chimayo
sugar rush peach
my saved pepperoncini
matchbox, always
my matchbox/hungarian black f1
sarit gat
Shishito
The rocoto peppers fruited but were very slow, I'm interested to see how they do if I overwinter them and start them again
My doe hill were stunted, and early jalapeno didn't do much
Scorpions etc were very slow
Ks White Thai was not stabilized, I got weird stuff out of it
Sugar rush variegated is pretty but didn't make many fruits
For some reason I didn't plant any hungarian black this year and the one didn't wake up a second time this spring
I've moved a ton of pepper plants indoors for the winter and am working on getting lights up, etc.
chimayo
sugar rush peach
my saved pepperoncini
matchbox, always
my matchbox/hungarian black f1
sarit gat
Shishito
The rocoto peppers fruited but were very slow, I'm interested to see how they do if I overwinter them and start them again
My doe hill were stunted, and early jalapeno didn't do much
Scorpions etc were very slow
Ks White Thai was not stabilized, I got weird stuff out of it
Sugar rush variegated is pretty but didn't make many fruits
For some reason I didn't plant any hungarian black this year and the one didn't wake up a second time this spring
I've moved a ton of pepper plants indoors for the winter and am working on getting lights up, etc.
Summer is over
Sep. 6th, 2022 07:08 amWe might have technically hit first frost here last night, the lightest breath over heavy dew at 6am. We also might not. Nothing is obviously damaged, but then, frost doesn't show up as damage until things warm up anyhow. I hadn't brought much in; I think things will be ok but I will start bringing things in today. I may also light a bit of a fire since if I'm bringing things in I'm also bringing moisture in. Maybe I'll just turn on the electric heat.
Either way, this was a morning I got out of bed and put on, not an easy summer dress, but a wool long underwear set which is my chosen loungewear in winter. I have some apples to pump through the slow cooker, mexican cure vanilla bean out, madagascar bourbon (which is the "normal" vanilla bean) in, run the canner once, it's good.
Outside the geese are loud, they're flocking all together (this may be the first day they're all, all together this fall). They want breakfast but mostly they're just socializing, sorting out their interpersonal like the crush of kids all boiling around on the first day of school. Thea is standing bravely, not too close to the gate, but I see that no bears have been in through the fence last night. She's a very good dog.
Inside the cats are hangry or whatever it is that happens when it's cold out, I've just woken up, and their food dish is empty: Whiskey is leaping and spinning and clawing the stairs with his ears back, staring at the wall, and running back and forth. Every once in awhile he takes off to chase Demon, who mewls piteously and runs away.
I need to get the soap packed up and brought out to the storage container so I can start bringing in squash and seed cucumbers and green tomatoes on the shelving it occupies.
Edited to add: the thought of back-to-school is always accompanied by a particular scent memory, doesn't matter if I'm thinking about grade school or uni.
Either way, this was a morning I got out of bed and put on, not an easy summer dress, but a wool long underwear set which is my chosen loungewear in winter. I have some apples to pump through the slow cooker, mexican cure vanilla bean out, madagascar bourbon (which is the "normal" vanilla bean) in, run the canner once, it's good.
Outside the geese are loud, they're flocking all together (this may be the first day they're all, all together this fall). They want breakfast but mostly they're just socializing, sorting out their interpersonal like the crush of kids all boiling around on the first day of school. Thea is standing bravely, not too close to the gate, but I see that no bears have been in through the fence last night. She's a very good dog.
Inside the cats are hangry or whatever it is that happens when it's cold out, I've just woken up, and their food dish is empty: Whiskey is leaping and spinning and clawing the stairs with his ears back, staring at the wall, and running back and forth. Every once in awhile he takes off to chase Demon, who mewls piteously and runs away.
I need to get the soap packed up and brought out to the storage container so I can start bringing in squash and seed cucumbers and green tomatoes on the shelving it occupies.
Edited to add: the thought of back-to-school is always accompanied by a particular scent memory, doesn't matter if I'm thinking about grade school or uni.
Raspberries
Aug. 15th, 2022 06:32 pmI didn't have lunch today, but I did go out in the brief window after work and before the rainstorm and stuffed handfuls of raspberries into my mouth. I guess the raspberries are coming in, a week or two later than last year.
What's Going On?
Aug. 14th, 2022 09:49 pmThe painted mountain and magic manna (which is a selection out of painted mountain) look quite similar, as plants. They're silking and pollen dropping, for the most part.
Weirdly cascade ruby gold is starting to drop pollen but I see very few silks in it. The tallest tassel is 8' tall or something like that. Maybe it needs water?
Saskatoon white has two different flower colours but looks pretty uniform otherwise. It's had silks out for a couple days now.
Atomic orange is in full silk.
Saskatchewan rainbow has so so so many cobs on the plants, I can't wait to open them.
The first open oak party tassel is visible, it's definitely not going to make it. Likewise homestead yellow and early riser, though they are all huge plants.
There are a bunch of big green tomatoes in the promiscuous patch, I need to get in there and do some pruning. Likewise Mikado Black has a bunch of quite large tomatoes about ready to turn, and I suspect Minsk Early is about to give a bunch of smaller ones. Meanwhile the northern mixed row is variable, some plants have a bunch of nice-looking fruit and some really do not. There's a weird potato leaf plant that has tiny marble-sized fruit that don't look like they're getting any bigger. That might be a bee cross, and woth checking out the F2 on.
I should plant everything further apart for screening purposes, though planting it close together for pollination purposes was a legit idea. I'm likely to miss fruit in this jungle though.
A second melon has started, on a different plant, that looks similar in shape to the first melon. It would be hilarious if I got melons but not squash this year?
One particular squash has elongated football-shaped fruits on its female flowers, yellow with a green patch, and the three plants spread across my different plantings are super super vigorous both from seed and from transplant. I'm curious about which squash it is. Tons and tons of flowers on all the squash but not very many squashes growing. There are some, though, and lots of busy bees in the flowers.
Bees *love* arugula and I think are neglecting the rest of the garden for it.
The bouchard peas are sizing up nicely. They're such manageable little plants, I put them in with turnips and they're all the same height.
Lots of flowers on the beans but no baby beans. Um?
Some pods sizing o=up on the favas finally.
I need to plant the fall favas soon. And sort out my fall grain.
I've been cutting heads off the dango mugi barley on my deck as they hit hard dough stage, I don't want birds to get them. That is a very, very successful seed increase, I'll have something like two dozen heads from 5 seeds planted this spring at this rate.
Planted seed for dwarf, micro, and F1 tomatoes for the winter.
Transplanted a bunch of peppers into 1 gallon containers.
Bought a bunch of hydroponics stuff in prep for winter.
I'm really, really enjoying the garden right now. Even the raspberries, which I totally neglected, are being nice to me.
Weirdly cascade ruby gold is starting to drop pollen but I see very few silks in it. The tallest tassel is 8' tall or something like that. Maybe it needs water?
Saskatoon white has two different flower colours but looks pretty uniform otherwise. It's had silks out for a couple days now.
Atomic orange is in full silk.
Saskatchewan rainbow has so so so many cobs on the plants, I can't wait to open them.
The first open oak party tassel is visible, it's definitely not going to make it. Likewise homestead yellow and early riser, though they are all huge plants.
There are a bunch of big green tomatoes in the promiscuous patch, I need to get in there and do some pruning. Likewise Mikado Black has a bunch of quite large tomatoes about ready to turn, and I suspect Minsk Early is about to give a bunch of smaller ones. Meanwhile the northern mixed row is variable, some plants have a bunch of nice-looking fruit and some really do not. There's a weird potato leaf plant that has tiny marble-sized fruit that don't look like they're getting any bigger. That might be a bee cross, and woth checking out the F2 on.
I should plant everything further apart for screening purposes, though planting it close together for pollination purposes was a legit idea. I'm likely to miss fruit in this jungle though.
A second melon has started, on a different plant, that looks similar in shape to the first melon. It would be hilarious if I got melons but not squash this year?
One particular squash has elongated football-shaped fruits on its female flowers, yellow with a green patch, and the three plants spread across my different plantings are super super vigorous both from seed and from transplant. I'm curious about which squash it is. Tons and tons of flowers on all the squash but not very many squashes growing. There are some, though, and lots of busy bees in the flowers.
Bees *love* arugula and I think are neglecting the rest of the garden for it.
The bouchard peas are sizing up nicely. They're such manageable little plants, I put them in with turnips and they're all the same height.
Lots of flowers on the beans but no baby beans. Um?
Some pods sizing o=up on the favas finally.
I need to plant the fall favas soon. And sort out my fall grain.
I've been cutting heads off the dango mugi barley on my deck as they hit hard dough stage, I don't want birds to get them. That is a very, very successful seed increase, I'll have something like two dozen heads from 5 seeds planted this spring at this rate.
Planted seed for dwarf, micro, and F1 tomatoes for the winter.
Transplanted a bunch of peppers into 1 gallon containers.
Bought a bunch of hydroponics stuff in prep for winter.
I'm really, really enjoying the garden right now. Even the raspberries, which I totally neglected, are being nice to me.
Chaos is generative.
Fertility comes from death.
Seeds need soil -- made of dead things -- to root into, otherwise they quickly shrivel. There's no shortage of seeds in the world, always sprouting and dying.
It's hard to trust the process. It's hard to see a space of death as a niche that will be filled, to trust that natural process, rather than focusing on what's now gone or even what we think should come. Though, of course, we are part of what's to come.
This last couple years has built up so much thick black rich soil. Before it just felt like a pile of dead things, but now--
Fertility comes from death.
Seeds need soil -- made of dead things -- to root into, otherwise they quickly shrivel. There's no shortage of seeds in the world, always sprouting and dying.
It's hard to trust the process. It's hard to see a space of death as a niche that will be filled, to trust that natural process, rather than focusing on what's now gone or even what we think should come. Though, of course, we are part of what's to come.
This last couple years has built up so much thick black rich soil. Before it just felt like a pile of dead things, but now--
Wheel of the year: animals
Jun. 28th, 2022 11:31 amFeb: pigs usually farrow
Feb 1: goose eggs begin. Geese into breeding pens.
Feb 15: duck eggs increase
March 1: chicken eggs increase, goose egg max production. Ducks into breeding pens.
April 1: geese out for spring maybe
April 6: bring out hoses, will need to disconnect and drain at night for awhile
April 10: let geese sit for max grass for gosling
April 15-30: move pigs to rear pasture
April 20-30: let ducks sit
May 1: last chance for cool butchering weather for pigs
June 1: goose eggs mostly done
June 15: geese start into back pasture as babies get big enough
Sept 15-Oct 15: butcher ducks and geese, good pig butchering weather
Sept 20: pigs into cornfields
Oct 1: hoses in, birds in from summer pasture
Oct 10: pigs into brassica fields
Nov 15: ducks and geese indoors for winter
Nov 15: pigs into winter pen when ground freezes
Feb 1: goose eggs begin. Geese into breeding pens.
Feb 15: duck eggs increase
March 1: chicken eggs increase, goose egg max production. Ducks into breeding pens.
April 1: geese out for spring maybe
April 6: bring out hoses, will need to disconnect and drain at night for awhile
April 10: let geese sit for max grass for gosling
April 15-30: move pigs to rear pasture
April 20-30: let ducks sit
May 1: last chance for cool butchering weather for pigs
June 1: goose eggs mostly done
June 15: geese start into back pasture as babies get big enough
Sept 15-Oct 15: butcher ducks and geese, good pig butchering weather
Sept 20: pigs into cornfields
Oct 1: hoses in, birds in from summer pasture
Oct 10: pigs into brassica fields
Nov 15: ducks and geese indoors for winter
Nov 15: pigs into winter pen when ground freezes
(no subject)
Jun. 13th, 2022 10:13 amIt may be ok.
Outside is calling me really hard right now. There's a perfect wind, the lake right outside my office window is full of little wavelets, the sky is true sky blue with just enough fluffy white clouds to add interest, every leaf is just out with that new-leaf bright green and no silvering from pest damage or yellowing from drought yet. Half the dandelions are in seed and half are still invitingly yellow, just asking to be made into fritters.
I need to sleep out there, I think. You'd think 7 acres would be a lot but my forested parts are right up against the highway and everything else is visible to a neighbour. I'm working on planting myself barriers but I need to clear, then plant, then everything needs to grow.
Last weekend, to celebrate new ducklings and to celebrate having someone to share food with, I brought out a duck. Normally that's 5 days of food: a seared breast two days in a row, then legs and picked-off bits and gorgeous crackling skin two days in a row, then soup one day. Because I shared it's 4 days: I get to go home to duck cracklins and stinging nettles creamed in duck fat, then figure out which direction I want to take the soup tomorrow (pho flavourings, maybe? With starch noodles?). It makes such a difference to me having someone appreciative to share with, not an anonymous person to sell to but just a place where bounty can flow over and be enjoyed.
It's turning into summer. The seeds are in the ground. We need rain, and I should run irrigation. Things will grow without me for a bit. The time for heavy work turns into the time to relax, observe, and enjoy; the time for giving labour to the soil turns into the time to receive my body back bite by bite.
I've been wearing my ring, scythe and wheat, ebb and flow. It's been so hard to ride everything that's been happening with any sort of grace. Today I remember that the wheel will turn anyhow, it will turn and turn and turn and there will always be change. When I lose my grace, when I get thrown off and need to climb back on, there's always another turn ahead to handle more smoothly. Acceptance is not an end state; it's a practice.
Outside is calling me really hard right now. There's a perfect wind, the lake right outside my office window is full of little wavelets, the sky is true sky blue with just enough fluffy white clouds to add interest, every leaf is just out with that new-leaf bright green and no silvering from pest damage or yellowing from drought yet. Half the dandelions are in seed and half are still invitingly yellow, just asking to be made into fritters.
I need to sleep out there, I think. You'd think 7 acres would be a lot but my forested parts are right up against the highway and everything else is visible to a neighbour. I'm working on planting myself barriers but I need to clear, then plant, then everything needs to grow.
Last weekend, to celebrate new ducklings and to celebrate having someone to share food with, I brought out a duck. Normally that's 5 days of food: a seared breast two days in a row, then legs and picked-off bits and gorgeous crackling skin two days in a row, then soup one day. Because I shared it's 4 days: I get to go home to duck cracklins and stinging nettles creamed in duck fat, then figure out which direction I want to take the soup tomorrow (pho flavourings, maybe? With starch noodles?). It makes such a difference to me having someone appreciative to share with, not an anonymous person to sell to but just a place where bounty can flow over and be enjoyed.
It's turning into summer. The seeds are in the ground. We need rain, and I should run irrigation. Things will grow without me for a bit. The time for heavy work turns into the time to relax, observe, and enjoy; the time for giving labour to the soil turns into the time to receive my body back bite by bite.
I've been wearing my ring, scythe and wheat, ebb and flow. It's been so hard to ride everything that's been happening with any sort of grace. Today I remember that the wheel will turn anyhow, it will turn and turn and turn and there will always be change. When I lose my grace, when I get thrown off and need to climb back on, there's always another turn ahead to handle more smoothly. Acceptance is not an end state; it's a practice.
(no subject)
Apr. 8th, 2022 01:25 pmIt snowed every day since he left. It's only now that the wind is driving those clouds and their insulation away. It had been such a warm winter; now it's a freezing spring and outside sounds like the ocean roaring. Catkins venture out of aspens and willows. If in their short lives they believe a real summer will come then surely, after so many turns of the wheel, so can I?
Tags:
I like plants
Feb. 22nd, 2022 08:16 amWe are having another cold spike, -23C last night is supposed to be the worst of it. We'll see.
Meantime inside so many of the seeds I planted are coming up. First Moment then Fat Frog tomato are showing flower clusters; they were planted on Dec 25 so this is 59 days, I expect the flowers will be open by day 65. That seems very standard. There seems to be a little community around breeding micro tomatoes on the totally tomatoes forum; I don't have time to think about that too much right now but I'll likely revisit next winter.
Meantime artichokes are putted up, a bunch of my saved peppers and tomatoes - doe hill, pepperoncini, favourite panamorous toms, the zesty green one, sweet cheriette, some of the perennial onions, the dahlias, etc. It's almost time to set up my real production seed starting for peppers around March 1st, then it will be tomatoes April 1st. Hopefully my pepper seeds arrive by that time!
The matchbox peppers on the windowsill are covered in baby peppers and flowers and flower buds. I can't believe how many peppers those things want to produce! I did fertilize them, maybe that was what did it. There are so many flowers I've lost which ones I crossed with hungarian black, so I'm going to have to do that cross again. I marked the cross on the hungarian plant ok, but the matchbox plants are so delicate I'm uncertain how to mark them, maybe by tying a thread around?
I still have not threshed all the barley and wheat. I think I need rubber gloves to do it.
Mom is up for a couple days and yesterday was a holiday, so we rearranged (arranged?) my basement so I can put the production transplants down there. I added two more big shelves and for the first time I feel like I'm starting to have a handle on this space. It basically means lining every wall with shelves, and with whatever size of shelf will fit (short shelves under curved walls, tall shelves against straight walls) but it is finally beginning to be functional.
Next step is a castor type device for my pottery wheel so it can scoot away and out, and then line the back of the downstairs main room closet with wine rack probably.
Meantime inside so many of the seeds I planted are coming up. First Moment then Fat Frog tomato are showing flower clusters; they were planted on Dec 25 so this is 59 days, I expect the flowers will be open by day 65. That seems very standard. There seems to be a little community around breeding micro tomatoes on the totally tomatoes forum; I don't have time to think about that too much right now but I'll likely revisit next winter.
Meantime artichokes are putted up, a bunch of my saved peppers and tomatoes - doe hill, pepperoncini, favourite panamorous toms, the zesty green one, sweet cheriette, some of the perennial onions, the dahlias, etc. It's almost time to set up my real production seed starting for peppers around March 1st, then it will be tomatoes April 1st. Hopefully my pepper seeds arrive by that time!
The matchbox peppers on the windowsill are covered in baby peppers and flowers and flower buds. I can't believe how many peppers those things want to produce! I did fertilize them, maybe that was what did it. There are so many flowers I've lost which ones I crossed with hungarian black, so I'm going to have to do that cross again. I marked the cross on the hungarian plant ok, but the matchbox plants are so delicate I'm uncertain how to mark them, maybe by tying a thread around?
I still have not threshed all the barley and wheat. I think I need rubber gloves to do it.
Mom is up for a couple days and yesterday was a holiday, so we rearranged (arranged?) my basement so I can put the production transplants down there. I added two more big shelves and for the first time I feel like I'm starting to have a handle on this space. It basically means lining every wall with shelves, and with whatever size of shelf will fit (short shelves under curved walls, tall shelves against straight walls) but it is finally beginning to be functional.
Next step is a castor type device for my pottery wheel so it can scoot away and out, and then line the back of the downstairs main room closet with wine rack probably.
Last night I made duck breast for dinner for Tucker and I; today I'm roasting the rest of the duck to have for dinner, to pick at crispy skin and eat the rich leg and oyster meat.
In the oven with the duck is the King Arthur short version of rugbraud (rye hot springs bread from iceland); this isn't proper in that it doesn't cook for 12 hours, but it is rye-only and uses an ok oven temperature to cook with duck and I'm curious to see how it turns out.
The newly-castrated piglets are running around and frolicking in the sun. Water is sheeting off the curved sides of my house as the snow melts, punctuated by loud crashes when chunks of snow let go and slide off altogether.
There's always a sleeping cat in view; also in view is the rack of green pepper sprouts and compact furry tomatoes. Behind me my year-old potted peppers are covered in white bloom. Sun is coming in sideways through the double glass doors.
In the oven with the duck is the King Arthur short version of rugbraud (rye hot springs bread from iceland); this isn't proper in that it doesn't cook for 12 hours, but it is rye-only and uses an ok oven temperature to cook with duck and I'm curious to see how it turns out.
The newly-castrated piglets are running around and frolicking in the sun. Water is sheeting off the curved sides of my house as the snow melts, punctuated by loud crashes when chunks of snow let go and slide off altogether.
There's always a sleeping cat in view; also in view is the rack of green pepper sprouts and compact furry tomatoes. Behind me my year-old potted peppers are covered in white bloom. Sun is coming in sideways through the double glass doors.
It Begins/The Wheel Turns
Jan. 10th, 2022 04:43 pmToday was warm enough to get the snowblower working. One of the issues was that its oil was only good down to -20C, so when I tried to start it at -30C it was basically sludge. There was also a lack of fuel stabilizer and old oil, but I had to run it for a bit to get the oil to pick up all the little metal bits since I hadn't changed the-- well, anyhow. It was warm enough to get the snowblower working.
I expected it to get up to -5C today and to be working on the snowblower, so I woke up and luxuriated in being in bed for awhile. Wood on the fire, find some clothes, and I got outside as it was getting properly light, about 9. It felt different out. The snowblower started prety quickly and while I was running it I took water to the geese, then checked the temperature.
It was 1C. It was above freezing!
Suddenly the snowblower was much more important. When the snow thaws and refreezes it becomes basically impossible to move and I had a lot of snow to move. Luckily with an oil change and enough time to work a new tank of stabilized fuel through it the machine was working. I spent an hour and a half muscling it around, getting it stuck on the pig hill, trying to figure out how to move snowbanks that were twice as tall as the machine. It was lovely and sunny and warm. When I came in for lunch and tea I realized I'd stepped out just to see if I could get it working and hadn't actually put on a shirt under my light jacket before starting work. I could hardly hold the phone because of vibrator-hands.
After a break I went out again, took a video for the youtube site, fed the animals, and got back to work. I widened a path to the back chicken coop -- and incidentally the truck canopy-- that I think the truck can fit back through. I did the driveway outside the gate and may have got two cars'-widths inside the gate. I unburied most of the trailer and the 4runner. The dog paths were impossible to move since they were roughly three feet of snow compacted into six inches. Without chains on the snowblower tires I slipped and had to near-carry in a couple places. Still, I got a lot done. I also managed to shake the snow off the cedars and clear most of the snow off the deck before I realized it was 4:30 and still basically light. In fact the sun is only down now, at 5.
The outside tap got thawed yesterday and I re-dug a path to it. There was actual water beading on the wire fence and the south side of the shed. It was so warm I took my toque and gloves off and never did put on a shirt. The long cold was a very serious hibernation, a hunkering-down and surviving. Today is the beginning of waking up.
I'm not saying it won't get cold again before spring. It will: a crust will form on the snow, the dogs will try and get out on it, I'll need to problem solve, a super cold snap might still happen, the truck may still get stuck in some of this loose weird snow-over-ice. At some point rivulets will start running down the driveway and I'll need to direct them away from the carport. I'll come close to running out of wood and the blanket of snow on the roof will come off and the house might get a little chilly. I need to get several tons of snow off the deck. But. Still.
Spring will come.
Now where can I find some good LED grow lights?
I expected it to get up to -5C today and to be working on the snowblower, so I woke up and luxuriated in being in bed for awhile. Wood on the fire, find some clothes, and I got outside as it was getting properly light, about 9. It felt different out. The snowblower started prety quickly and while I was running it I took water to the geese, then checked the temperature.
It was 1C. It was above freezing!
Suddenly the snowblower was much more important. When the snow thaws and refreezes it becomes basically impossible to move and I had a lot of snow to move. Luckily with an oil change and enough time to work a new tank of stabilized fuel through it the machine was working. I spent an hour and a half muscling it around, getting it stuck on the pig hill, trying to figure out how to move snowbanks that were twice as tall as the machine. It was lovely and sunny and warm. When I came in for lunch and tea I realized I'd stepped out just to see if I could get it working and hadn't actually put on a shirt under my light jacket before starting work. I could hardly hold the phone because of vibrator-hands.
After a break I went out again, took a video for the youtube site, fed the animals, and got back to work. I widened a path to the back chicken coop -- and incidentally the truck canopy-- that I think the truck can fit back through. I did the driveway outside the gate and may have got two cars'-widths inside the gate. I unburied most of the trailer and the 4runner. The dog paths were impossible to move since they were roughly three feet of snow compacted into six inches. Without chains on the snowblower tires I slipped and had to near-carry in a couple places. Still, I got a lot done. I also managed to shake the snow off the cedars and clear most of the snow off the deck before I realized it was 4:30 and still basically light. In fact the sun is only down now, at 5.
The outside tap got thawed yesterday and I re-dug a path to it. There was actual water beading on the wire fence and the south side of the shed. It was so warm I took my toque and gloves off and never did put on a shirt. The long cold was a very serious hibernation, a hunkering-down and surviving. Today is the beginning of waking up.
I'm not saying it won't get cold again before spring. It will: a crust will form on the snow, the dogs will try and get out on it, I'll need to problem solve, a super cold snap might still happen, the truck may still get stuck in some of this loose weird snow-over-ice. At some point rivulets will start running down the driveway and I'll need to direct them away from the carport. I'll come close to running out of wood and the blanket of snow on the roof will come off and the house might get a little chilly. I need to get several tons of snow off the deck. But. Still.
Spring will come.
Now where can I find some good LED grow lights?
It Begins/The Wheel Turns
Jan. 10th, 2022 04:43 pmToday was warm enough to get the snowblower working. One of the issues was that its oil was only good down to -20C, so when I tried to start it at -30C it was basically sludge. There was also a lack of fuel stabilizer and old oil, but I had to run it for a bit to get the oil to pick up all the little metal bits since I hadn't changed the-- well, anyhow. It was warm enough to get the snowblower working.
I expected it to get up to -5C today and to be working on the snowblower, so I woke up and luxuriated in being in bed for awhile. Wood on the fire, find some clothes, and I got outside as it was getting properly light, about 9. It felt different out. The snowblower started prety quickly and while I was running it I took water to the geese, then checked the temperature.
It was 1C. It was above freezing!
Suddenly the snowblower was much more important. When the snow thaws and refreezes it becomes basically impossible to move and I had a lot of snow to move. Luckily with an oil change and enough time to work a new tank of stabilized fuel through it the machine was working. I spent an hour and a half muscling it around, getting it stuck on the pig hill, trying to figure out how to move snowbanks that were twice as tall as the machine. It was lovely and sunny and warm. When I came in for lunch and tea I realized I'd stepped out just to see if I could get it working and hadn't actually put on a shirt under my light jacket before starting work. I could hardly hold the phone because of vibrator-hands.
After a break I went out again, took a video for the youtube site, fed the animals, and got back to work. I widened a path to the back chicken coop -- and incidentally the truck canopy-- that I think the truck can fit back through. I did the driveway outside the gate and may have got two cars'-widths inside the gate. I unburied most of the trailer and the 4runner. The dog paths were impossible to move since they were roughly three feet of snow compacted into six inches. Without chains on the snowblower tires I slipped and had to near-carry in a couple places. Still, I got a lot done. I also managed to shake the snow off the cedars and clear most of the snow off the deck before I realized it was 4:30 and still basically light. In fact the sun is only down now, at 5.
The outside tap got thawed yesterday and I re-dug a path to it. There was actual water beading on the wire fence and the south side of the shed. It was so warm I took my toque and gloves off and never did put on a shirt. The long cold was a very serious hibernation, a hunkering-down and surviving. Today is the beginning of waking up.
I'm not saying it won't get cold again before spring. It will: a crust will form on the snow, the dogs will try and get out on it, I'll need to problem solve, a super cold snap might still happen, the truck may still get stuck in some of this loose weird snow-over-ice. At some point rivulets will start running down the driveway and I'll need to direct them away from the carport. I'll come close to running out of wood and the blanket of snow on the roof will come off and the house might get a little chilly. I need to get several tons of snow off the deck. But. Still.
Spring will come.
Now where can I find some good LED grow lights?
I expected it to get up to -5C today and to be working on the snowblower, so I woke up and luxuriated in being in bed for awhile. Wood on the fire, find some clothes, and I got outside as it was getting properly light, about 9. It felt different out. The snowblower started prety quickly and while I was running it I took water to the geese, then checked the temperature.
It was 1C. It was above freezing!
Suddenly the snowblower was much more important. When the snow thaws and refreezes it becomes basically impossible to move and I had a lot of snow to move. Luckily with an oil change and enough time to work a new tank of stabilized fuel through it the machine was working. I spent an hour and a half muscling it around, getting it stuck on the pig hill, trying to figure out how to move snowbanks that were twice as tall as the machine. It was lovely and sunny and warm. When I came in for lunch and tea I realized I'd stepped out just to see if I could get it working and hadn't actually put on a shirt under my light jacket before starting work. I could hardly hold the phone because of vibrator-hands.
After a break I went out again, took a video for the youtube site, fed the animals, and got back to work. I widened a path to the back chicken coop -- and incidentally the truck canopy-- that I think the truck can fit back through. I did the driveway outside the gate and may have got two cars'-widths inside the gate. I unburied most of the trailer and the 4runner. The dog paths were impossible to move since they were roughly three feet of snow compacted into six inches. Without chains on the snowblower tires I slipped and had to near-carry in a couple places. Still, I got a lot done. I also managed to shake the snow off the cedars and clear most of the snow off the deck before I realized it was 4:30 and still basically light. In fact the sun is only down now, at 5.
The outside tap got thawed yesterday and I re-dug a path to it. There was actual water beading on the wire fence and the south side of the shed. It was so warm I took my toque and gloves off and never did put on a shirt. The long cold was a very serious hibernation, a hunkering-down and surviving. Today is the beginning of waking up.
I'm not saying it won't get cold again before spring. It will: a crust will form on the snow, the dogs will try and get out on it, I'll need to problem solve, a super cold snap might still happen, the truck may still get stuck in some of this loose weird snow-over-ice. At some point rivulets will start running down the driveway and I'll need to direct them away from the carport. I'll come close to running out of wood and the blanket of snow on the roof will come off and the house might get a little chilly. I need to get several tons of snow off the deck. But. Still.
Spring will come.
Now where can I find some good LED grow lights?
The daily breakup: Whiplash
Aug. 20th, 2021 05:59 pmOkay.
Weeks back, maybe months back, when Tucker planned this trip he asked for what I needed around it. Asks number one, two, and three were not even near being on the table, they weren't a consideration. Ask four at least got a quick check-in before it was refused. Ask five was for some time to talk during the weeks he was gone, after his days with Sarah and not a week or two afterwards either, where we could reconnect and where there was space for me to talk about my feelings. Eventually (if she was going to be gone and he wasn't going to the convention yet anyways, and then after some pressing it would be created to work with either of those) he committed to a couple hours Friday evening (that's tonight) to talk.
A couple weeks before he left we had the "idk how you feel unless it directly affects me" (otherwise known as the "protect me from your feelings by not telling me about the hard ones because that's what people who love each other do" seriously do people live like this? deliberately?) conversation.
The weekend he left we has the "talking is hard, let's not do it much" conversation (otherwise known as "I'm getting emotionally overloaded and can't deal with so many feelings, can we take it down many notches").
We'd knocked around the idea of talking in the evenings he was gone, but my emotional regulation decided to try text instead, which is the context in which he stood me up that one night and gave the slight headtilt in the direction of apology an said he was doing great but just having these emotional experiences and didn't feel like he could compartmentalize them away to let me know he couldn't talk, or whatever (again running with the least charitable lens, I don't have an alternative lens on this one yet).
I sent a message saying that was kinda shitty and he said he thought he could stop being happy long enough to talk with me and I said he could be happy as long as he showed some fucking empathy (deeply paraphrased but probably pretty evenhanded). This was all by text.
After awhile he came back and said he'd still like to make time to listen to me on Friday, that he missed me, that he cared about me, that he was processing how he'd make the mistake around essentially standing me up, idk all the stuff. We had a meta-conversation about what kinds of things I wanted from that conversation (to be listened to while I talked about how I felt, to be validated, to be reassured, to hear how he was doing, to have my feelings understood as reactions and not as judgements) and what was on offer and so I decided to do it.
So this afternoon we were going to talk, but ended up text chatting instead. This whole week I was using text chat in communication with him deliberately to slow down the feedback loop, to keep intonation and expressions out of the picture and avoid misinterpretation there, to gauge how engaged he was and how interested. Basically we'd do a couple chats back and forth and if it felt terrible my thought was to then disengage; much easier than hanging up on someone.
And over chat he was... loving. As forthright as I've ever seen him. Reassuring. Communicative. Empathetic. Careful to double-check his assumptions. Concerned. So we stayed in chat for a couple hours having a "wtf has been going on and what are we going to do about it" conversation, one that was a reasonable follow-up to the mismatched needs conversation from before he left.
He said everything I wanted to hear, had been wanting to hear. He said it in the ways I wanted to hear it. He gave some reasons to believe things might go better in future, though I probably fed the setup for most of those in.
This is the hardest. It's the hardest part. It's the part where someone is scared enough of the real consequence of the end that they pull together every ounce of people-pleasing to be the person you want, instead of the person they need to be. It could also be what I always want it to be, what I always hope it could be: the correction of a misunderstanding, a river that will never stop flowing simply shifting its banks to a more favourable bed. That's happened to me, but it's not the most likely outcome.
I was given everything I wanted. I want it, so much, and I don't trust it to continue. I shouldn't trust it to continue, this concern is legitimate. How do I approach this? Do I reject it? Do I try it but stay suspicious? Do I just... go into it, and wait until next time it hurts?
I don't know. I'll sleep on it, and wake on it, and butcher pork on it, and clean the house and get the second bed ready and receive Josh on it (so many highways between here and there are closed he'll likely be delayed till late tomorrow), and cook with Josh on it, and harvest grain on it, and make pickles on it, and winterize the snowblower and tiller on it, and kill chickens on it, and can chicken stock on it, and catch up on work email on it, and go to the field to work on it. I'll feed the animals on it and peruse classifieds for a pickup truck on it. I'll live with it day to day and my heart and my body will want it to be true and if nothing suspicious happens they might convince me that it will be ok.
Either way I'll keep reaching out to my people, to the folks who supported me through the last week. I'll build that community and keep building it.
I don't know what happens next.
I hate being given what I want. It makes it worse when I lose it.
For so many years my heart was this badass standing wave of ground glass caught in a swirl of wind. Now it's just a lump of seeping muscle, oozing myoglobin and coming apart with any exposure to air.
Weeks back, maybe months back, when Tucker planned this trip he asked for what I needed around it. Asks number one, two, and three were not even near being on the table, they weren't a consideration. Ask four at least got a quick check-in before it was refused. Ask five was for some time to talk during the weeks he was gone, after his days with Sarah and not a week or two afterwards either, where we could reconnect and where there was space for me to talk about my feelings. Eventually (if she was going to be gone and he wasn't going to the convention yet anyways, and then after some pressing it would be created to work with either of those) he committed to a couple hours Friday evening (that's tonight) to talk.
A couple weeks before he left we had the "idk how you feel unless it directly affects me" (otherwise known as the "protect me from your feelings by not telling me about the hard ones because that's what people who love each other do" seriously do people live like this? deliberately?) conversation.
The weekend he left we has the "talking is hard, let's not do it much" conversation (otherwise known as "I'm getting emotionally overloaded and can't deal with so many feelings, can we take it down many notches").
We'd knocked around the idea of talking in the evenings he was gone, but my emotional regulation decided to try text instead, which is the context in which he stood me up that one night and gave the slight headtilt in the direction of apology an said he was doing great but just having these emotional experiences and didn't feel like he could compartmentalize them away to let me know he couldn't talk, or whatever (again running with the least charitable lens, I don't have an alternative lens on this one yet).
I sent a message saying that was kinda shitty and he said he thought he could stop being happy long enough to talk with me and I said he could be happy as long as he showed some fucking empathy (deeply paraphrased but probably pretty evenhanded). This was all by text.
After awhile he came back and said he'd still like to make time to listen to me on Friday, that he missed me, that he cared about me, that he was processing how he'd make the mistake around essentially standing me up, idk all the stuff. We had a meta-conversation about what kinds of things I wanted from that conversation (to be listened to while I talked about how I felt, to be validated, to be reassured, to hear how he was doing, to have my feelings understood as reactions and not as judgements) and what was on offer and so I decided to do it.
So this afternoon we were going to talk, but ended up text chatting instead. This whole week I was using text chat in communication with him deliberately to slow down the feedback loop, to keep intonation and expressions out of the picture and avoid misinterpretation there, to gauge how engaged he was and how interested. Basically we'd do a couple chats back and forth and if it felt terrible my thought was to then disengage; much easier than hanging up on someone.
And over chat he was... loving. As forthright as I've ever seen him. Reassuring. Communicative. Empathetic. Careful to double-check his assumptions. Concerned. So we stayed in chat for a couple hours having a "wtf has been going on and what are we going to do about it" conversation, one that was a reasonable follow-up to the mismatched needs conversation from before he left.
He said everything I wanted to hear, had been wanting to hear. He said it in the ways I wanted to hear it. He gave some reasons to believe things might go better in future, though I probably fed the setup for most of those in.
This is the hardest. It's the hardest part. It's the part where someone is scared enough of the real consequence of the end that they pull together every ounce of people-pleasing to be the person you want, instead of the person they need to be. It could also be what I always want it to be, what I always hope it could be: the correction of a misunderstanding, a river that will never stop flowing simply shifting its banks to a more favourable bed. That's happened to me, but it's not the most likely outcome.
I was given everything I wanted. I want it, so much, and I don't trust it to continue. I shouldn't trust it to continue, this concern is legitimate. How do I approach this? Do I reject it? Do I try it but stay suspicious? Do I just... go into it, and wait until next time it hurts?
I don't know. I'll sleep on it, and wake on it, and butcher pork on it, and clean the house and get the second bed ready and receive Josh on it (so many highways between here and there are closed he'll likely be delayed till late tomorrow), and cook with Josh on it, and harvest grain on it, and make pickles on it, and winterize the snowblower and tiller on it, and kill chickens on it, and can chicken stock on it, and catch up on work email on it, and go to the field to work on it. I'll feed the animals on it and peruse classifieds for a pickup truck on it. I'll live with it day to day and my heart and my body will want it to be true and if nothing suspicious happens they might convince me that it will be ok.
Either way I'll keep reaching out to my people, to the folks who supported me through the last week. I'll build that community and keep building it.
I don't know what happens next.
I hate being given what I want. It makes it worse when I lose it.
For so many years my heart was this badass standing wave of ground glass caught in a swirl of wind. Now it's just a lump of seeping muscle, oozing myoglobin and coming apart with any exposure to air.
