It's The Little Things . . .

When we got done with the inside and outside remodeling of our place here about twelve years ago, we tackled some landscaping. Among other things, we purchased three rose bushes. Two of them bit the dust the first year after being planted, and I nursed the third one along for a couple more years before giving up on it.

Because it wasn't totally dead, I didn't want to just toss it so I asked Roy to replant it by our L.P. bulk gas tank which was kinda sitting right out there in the open with all its ugliness on display. We planted a couple more things near the tank in our attempt at camouflage, and also let some wild bushes and shrubs grow up.

All in all, not much attention was paid to the little rose bush except every now and then when one of us went to read the gas tank we would notice that it was still hanging on although it never bloomed.

This year look what has appeared.

Okay, so it's not the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen, but I have gotten more joy this summer out of seeing those proud little roses blooming away, just like they know what they're doing. Who knows, now that it's come this far, in a couple more years it may cover the whole gas tank!

Mama Pea's Raspberry Jam

Mama JJ asked if I'd share my raspberry jam recipe and I said I'd be glad to. It's a super-simple recipe; here it is.

The original recipe calls for 9 cups of crushed raspberries and 6 cups of sugar. I've successfully cut the sugar to 5 cups with good results but you can go with whichever measurement you prefer. The jam will probably be a little thicker if you use the greater amount of sugar. I like more of the raspberry flavor to come through rather than just a "sweet" flavor, so I prefer to cut the sugar.

Also remember that if you pick some of the raspberries a smidge under-ripe, they will contain more natural pectin which will enable the jam to "set up" to a firmer consistency than if you use all dead-ripe berries.

Okay, grab your ingredients and utensils and let's make some jam.

Combine 9 cups crushed raspberries with 5 cups sugar; bring to boiling, stirring occasionally until sugar dissolves.

Cook rapidly to jellying point (220 degrees). This should take somewhere around 45 minutes. As mixture thickens, stir frequently to prevent sticking.

Ladle boiling hot into sterilized jars leaving 1/4" head space. Adjust caps and put in boiling water bath, 10 minutes for 1/2 pints and 15 minutes for pints.

You should get about 4-5 pints with maybe a "taster" dish left over. Enjoy!

The Jam Fairy (Didn't) Cometh

We just got our first big harvest of red, ripe, plump, luscious (can you tell raspberries are my favorite fruit?) raspberries.

I still have a couple of bags of them frozen (for use in smoothies) from last year so I want to concentrate on making jam out of the first several pickings this year. Or I'll make canned raspberries as I have a husband who LOVES the resulting juice which leaves me with the berries which is fine with me except he can drink up the juice a hay of a lot faster than I can eat all the raspberries. (Where was I?)

Oh, yes. My days recently have been fuller than full, and I'm having trouble finding time to do all the things my little heart desires.

So I put the succulent red jewels in the refrigerator late yesterday, sent a fervent request to the Jam Fairy to come in the night and turn my bounty into sparkling, little jars of jam which I would find first thing this morning lined up on my counter.

Humpf. She must have had other commitments.

Well, no way am I going to try to squeeze jam making into this day. There are four hundred gazillion pea pods hanging heavily on the vines out there that I need to pick, shell, blanch, and freeze . . . plus accomplishing the rest of my duties for the day.

So I smooshed the berries (nearly a gallon of them) the way I would in preparation for making jam, measured them out (exactly two quarts), packed them in a freezer container with a detailed label. Come October (November? December? Maybe February.), I'll defrost the batch and make my jam.

Am I obliquitous or what? (I just learned that word. Did I use it correctly? No? Oh, how embarrassing.)

Grandpa's Delivery Route and Random Garden Pics

One of my favorite bloggers (Garden Now - Think Later . . . see link on right hand sidebar) wrote today about harvesting some of her heirloom tomatoes.

This brought back memories of my grandpa's garden back in Illinois when I was growing up. I don't remember his garden as being overly large, but he sure did get a lot of produce out of it.

About once a week during the growing season, he had a route he followed to each of his seven grown kids' houses to deliver whatever produce his garden offered up that week. (All of his children were married with families of their own, and living in the same town they grew up in. That doesn't happen much anymore, does it?)

Thinking back, I guess you could say each of the families had their own private CSA subscription, but didn't have to pay for it!

What I recall about that summer garden produce most was the huge, misshapen, wonderfully delicious heirloom tomatoes Grandpa gave us. These fruits were not grown for uniform size or sustainability in shipping but rather for good, old-fashioned flavor. They were meant to be ripened to perfection on the vine, picked, handled with care and eaten within a day or two.

I can remember a big plate of thickly sliced tomatoes at dinners and lunches of baloney, tomato, and mayonnaise sandwiches on white bread for days after one of Grandpa's deliveries.

Also, he often brought green onions (scallions). Mom would put a dozen or so of these on the table, and we would eat them with salt . . . and gusto! I always grow scallions in my garden and at least once a season for nostalgic reasons, I put a bunch of them on the table the way Mom used to. We each eat maybe one green onion . . . and decide they're a little too zingy to indulge in more. Were the scallions milder in flavor back in my childhood? I think they must have been.

So, thanks, Erin, for your post today featuring heirloom tomatoes. It brought back lots of good memories. And my grandpa would say to you, "You've done good, Girlie!"

Beat Up, But Bloomin'

I got a little carried away with nasturtiums this year. I planted them in planter boxes, in hanging baskets and half pots that hang on the side of the house.

Their colorful blossoms and lush foliage have always appealed to me and I think they're one of my favorite flowers. Unfortunately, this hasn't turned out to be a very good season for them.

This is a line-up of planter boxes on our deck railing.

Pretty bedraggled and beaten. The high winds and pounding rains have taken their toll.

I have a couple of these half pots on the side of our house. They're in a spot that seems to get a lot of wind and maybe not enough sun. (How COULD they get enough sun this summer when the big, yellow orb refuses to grace us with its presence?) These poor gangly guys seem to be either reaching for more light and warmth or perhaps just a sheltered spot to hide in.

I had visions of nasturtiums cascading in lovely waves out of these hanging baskets but I think they look more like they're battling sea sickness (notice the sickly white/yellow leaves?) from the constant rocking motion our gale force winds frequently provide.

But bless all their little blossoms, they are trying their best and doin' a good job of providing bright spots of color even though the plants look like they just crawled out of bed after a rough night.

First Peas

I know it must seem more than a little strange to all you gardeners "down south" who harvested your peas a month or so ago, but we just got our first ones today.

Despite our strange summer weather, they aren't even "late" this year. According to my garden records, we got our first picking of peas last year just one day earlier.

My dear husband took his afternoon coffee break sitting at the kitchen table and shelled the peas with me and we got them done lickety-split. (Don't spread it around, but I had a rum and coke! Hey, I split wood all morning, worked in the garden all afternoon, it's Sunday and I earned it. Don't know what it being Sunday has to do with my alcohol consumption . . . I just threw that in.) The only discouraging thing about shell peas is that the bulk of them is . . . well, shell. This was our total yield of peas from that big bowlful pictured above. (The geese, however, want everyone to know that they were delighted with the pea pods.)

One whole quart of peas. I package the peas for the freezer in bags of one and one-third cups each (which is just the right amount serving for the two of us) so that means . . . uh-oh, this sounds like a story problem. Mama Pea has NEVER done well with story problems. Okay, if I have 4 cups of peas and need 1-1/3 cups for each serving . . .duuuh. I'll have three servings put up for the freezer! Except I'm not going to put them all in the freezer.

You'll notice some new potatoes in the picture with the peas. These are the first ones I've pilfered from our potato patch this year. I've had a craving for creamed peas and chicken over new potatoes so you can see where my culinary thoughts are leading.

The cherry tomatoes aren't the first from our garden but these nine are the most I've picked at once so far. They are being veeery slow at ripening.

I pulled a few beets for dinner the other night and was expecting more beet greens than beets but was surprised to find some really nice sized beets. I'm thinking of setting up for some serious beet processing in the next day or so. I'll give you my full report of that as soon as it happens. Stay tuned for that super-exciting saga.