I Hate Mud

I'm not a spring lovin' kinda gal. Lots of people say spring makes them come alive, feel energized, want to tackle new projects, take on the the world. What's wrong with me? I dread it like the plague. What a yucky time of year. Cold, damp, drippy, wet . . . and muddy. Ugh.

This is the part of our driveway just coming into the yard. No matter how much gravel we put on the road here, come spring it disappears. The mud eats it.

We've always had a dog and always lived in the country. No sidewalks or paved streets for our four-legged, hairy creatures to prance around on. They have always seemed to actually enjoy plodding through any part of the yard that has bare dirt showing. And, oh, it's always so interesting to check out all of the oozey, gooey garden soil as soon as it becomes uncovered.

You can see the toes of my shoes as I stand contemplating a rather large puddle out behind the house.

Our dogs have all been trained to know that when the spring melt and mud arrive, they come in the door but must stand on the rug until all four muddy paws have been wiped off with a damp cloth. There are even some days when all four feet need to be unceremoniously dipped in a small bucket of warm water, swished around and then dried before entry to the house is gained. I bet they all have learned to count to four because it's a routine we go through ("Okay, that's one foot, that's two, gimme number three, etc., etc.") several times a day. Multiply that procedure by three these days since we've been keeping our daughter and son's-in-law two dogs while they are in Arizona and I feel like I'm continually letting in a small troop of doggie soldiers who have been on a training hike through the mud flats.

That's Zoey in the background and our granddog, Tucker, in front sitting on some straw that we spread on an especially muddy path from the deck to the greenhouse door.

My birthday falls in the month of April and whenever anyone asks what I'd like for my birthday, I always answer, "Asphalt." But, let's face it (andkwitcherbellyakin , Mama Pea), mud comes with the territory. Would I want to live in suburbia, in a high-rise condo in Minneapolis, in a part of the country where we didn't have snow to melt in the spring and make mud. Nope, 'course not. I love living in the woods, away from sidewalks and concrete. I love watching the birds and squirrels (and yes, dogs, too) drinking from the mud puddles in the driveway, seeing the wet, soggy garden beds emerge from the melting snow. Being able to go outside without long underwear and wind pants and hat and gloves and a big, bulky coat.

A river runs through it . . . the small road going to our back wood working and storage area.

Hrumpf. Well, maybe spring isn't all bad. Who says it's not a perfect time to curl up on the couch and read? Maybe I'll avoid the mess and mud by staying inside and cleaning out my desk. Good time to cook and bake all day. I'll quilt in my cheery quilt room with some good music playing. Good grief, there's spring house cleaning to be done! I can easily occupy myself, so I'll just stay inside until the mud dries up and goes away.

Can you toilet train dogs?

Difficulties Yet

Yes, I'm close to throwing my computer out the window over my desk. As you can't help but notice, I'm STILL having trouble getting my blog posts to come out looking good. Font size and spacing changes on me mid-stream, spaces between paragraphs disappear, blah, blah, blah. I guess I should be grateful I can at least get something to post . . . which I couldn't do a while back. Please be patient. I know the text isn't easy to read and certainly doesn't look good. I'll keep trying to get the problem fixed. Some how. Some way. Some day.

Stocking the Freezer

Many of you know that our daughter and son-in-law are currently in Arizona where he's recovering from injuries he received when the front wheel came off his racing bicycle and he took a bad (understatement) fall.

I've been thinking that having their freezer stocked with some prepared foods would come in handy when they return home.

I'll make some hearty soups, breads, etc. as mainstays but thought a little sweet treat now and then would also be appreciated. So today I baked Berry Patch Coffee Cake which I know they both like a lot.

The original recipe calls for the batter to be baked in a 9 x 13" pan but I always use two 8 x 8" square pans. (I like to use these aluminum pans because I frequently give one coffee cake as a gift and then I don't have to worry about getting the pan back.) You can see by the above picture that the two smaller square pans combined are bigger than the one 9 x 13" pan, but I always do it this way and it comes out fine.

The batter will be stiff so you have to work a little bit to get it spread out evenly.

I don't pay too much attention to the specific amount of jam called for (one cup) in the recipe. I just take a table teaspoon and drop nine blobs of jam over the batter, kind of evenly spaced.

The cake on the left is the way I package it for the freezer. When I take it out of the freezer, I drizzle on a simple powdered sugar frosting. Or if I'm going to use the cake right away, I frost it as soon as it's cooled as I did with the one on the right.

(Blogger is being especially balky about printing anything out in recipe format - it's something still whacko with my computer, I think - so I'll try writing this one this way.)

BERRY PATCH COFFEE CAKE

1 - 8 oz. package cream cheese, 1/2 cup butter, 1 cup sugar, 2 eggs, 1/2 teaspoon vanilla, 2 cups flour, 1 teaspoon baking powder, 1/2 teaspoon baking soda, 1/4 teaspoon salt, 1/4 cup milk, and 1 cup jam (any flavor).

Combine softened cream cheese, butter and sugar. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Blend in vanilla.

Sift dry ingredients and add alternately with milk. Spread into two greased and floured 8 x 8" pans (or one 9 x 13" pan). Dot with jam and bake at 350 degrees for 35-40 minutes. Drizzle with powdered sugar frosting when cool. Freezes well.

I remember when I first asked my son-in-law what his favorite kind of jam was and he replied, "Red." So today I made these coffee cakes for him with some of my raspberry jam. I've yet to find any flavor jam that doesn't taste good in this recipe so don't hesitate to use what you have if you want to give it a try.

Hot Heads

A short while ago, my daughter announced that she needed a new winter hat . . . a big, stretchy one preferably. She's growing her hair out into dreds. (Does one 'grow' their hair 'into' dreds? Forgive me, for I am out of it. Way out of it.) Anyway, the hats she has been wearing are becoming a bit snug and uncomfortable with her new hair style. She tried on a hat I had knit for myself a couple of years ago and requested one just like it, but in a different color.

I guess waking at 4 in the morning and not being able to fall back asleep has its advantages . . . I got up, stoked the fire, made my morning latte, sat down and finished her hat.

I've included this picture of my hat because I think you may be able to see the pattern better in the light color. It was an enjoyable pattern to knit. Once I got past the second cable twist, I didn't have to keep my eyes glued to the instructions; I could tell where I was by just looking at my work.

If any of you are interested, the pattern is in Charlene Schurch's book, 'Hats On!'

Spring Is Coming

Yep, I'm sure it is . . . but when? We got 8-10" of new snow early this week. It left all our roads packed with a combination of ice and snow which isn't even thinking of melting with our cold temps. In town even slowly moving vehicles are sliding through intersections. Out on the back roads and highway, there's no chance of stopping should a deer chose to cross in front of you.

This is our driveway just before coming into our back yard area.

Random woods shot showing plenty of snow yet. (Can you see the crocus peeking through? Oh, whoops, I'm delirious.)

The front yard looking at door to greenhouse . . . nuthin' growing in there right now . . . br-r-r-r!

Maisy, our granddog, visiting. She says, "Wouldn't be so bad out here if it weren't for that stiff breeze.”

We're thankful for a day of sunshine today but we do have a biting breeze made all the more noticeable by our high temp of only nine above. And to think one year in Illinois I planted peas and potatoes on March 20th, just eight days from now. Our country certainly offers a variety of climates to choose from, that's for sure.

There Are Challenges . . .

If you read my daughter's blog (This Is Our Life on my right side bar under Blogs I Visit), you'll know that her most recent post prompted me to relate the following. She's been having trouble with a pine marten occasionally stopping by her chicken house/yard and helping himself to some chicken for dinner. Unfortunately, these small creatures will also get into a poultry house and slaughter every single bird they can get their hands on, and leave the carnage behind, seemingly doing it for sport rather than to satisfy hunger.

We keep a few chickens here on our homestead mainly for the eggs but we also butcher and process the older, no longer laying hens for stewing meat. About every other year, we start a new batch of chicks in the spring that grow over the summer months and start laying in the fall.

A few years ago in early spring, it was time to start this process once again. It was so cold out when the chicks hatched they spent their first several weeks in a chick nursery in the heated garage until it was warm enough and they were big enough to go outside into a special, small chicken house we use for raising new birds.

This little abode is separate from the main chicken house and set in a fenced in grassy area. At that time, it had a chicken wire flooring about six inches off the ground through which droppings could fall onto the grass below. The structure is moveable so that we can move it every day or two. This way the droppings don't pile up in any one spot.

At the time of our disaster, it was then autumn and the new pullets were about a month away from the time they would start laying. We had somewhere around 12-15 new hens and two proud roosters in the little house.

On the day of this story, we were down to one vehicle for some reason. Our truck must have been in for mechanical work because I took Roy to work that morning so I would have the availability of the car during the day.

Upon returning home around 7:30 that morning, I went directly out to the field area to let the pullets out onto pasture. They would hear your footsteps coming and get all excited about being let out. This morning I immediately knew something was wrong because there was not a sound coming from the chick house. Not a sound. There was a small chicken door on the front that we latched up in the morning and closed for safety at night, but the whole roof also lifted up for ease in cleaning. That was what I lifted when I got to the house.

Grand carnage. Blood splattered all over the walls, roof, everywhere. And every single bird dead.

The mistake we had made was the chicken wire flooring. A pine marten had dug through the dirt underneath the house and torn the chicken wire to shreds in order to get to the chickens.

Lesson learned. From now on, any structure we've had birds in, whether it be starter house, big chicken house, winter solarium, broody hen house, etc., we've made sure the entire bottom is lined with heavy, substantial, tightly spaced welded wire. Tough lesson to learn, but we haven't had any trouble since losing that whole batch of pullets.