Spring May Be A Little Late This Year . . .

Last week we had our first delightful taste of spring weather.  Lots of our winter's snow melted, my raised garden beds were free of their white covering and my daughter commented on the green weeds already poking up through the garden soil.

 

One afternoon when the temperature rose close to 60°, the sun was shining and we had no breeze.  Papa Pea and I stripped down to only the bare essentials and luxuriated on the deck soaking up some much needed rays of beautiful sunshine.

 

This is the scene that greeted me early this morning as I looked out our living room windows.  It was snowing and the wind was blowing with gusts up to 50 mph.

 

As I attempted to shovel the deck, it crossed my mind that perhaps we should not have hauled out the deck furniture this past weekend.

 

(Photo by our daughter)

 

We've never before had one single Junco at our peanut butter log feeder.  Today I filled it twice (unheard of in previous winters) and the Juncos never left it all day long.  (It's empty again.)

 

(Photo by our daughter)

 

Our (bewildered?) spring Robins spent their day in the dried asparagus ferns foraging what they could find.

 

Our daughter, standing in our living room looking out, took this picture of me trying to shovel the wooden walk by the well pump.

 

The snow has continued all day.  I have no idea how many inches we've accumulated because of the wind rearranging it as it falls.

 

Surely doesn't look like an early spring for us this year.  Nope.  Nuh-uh.  Sigh. 

Our Daughter Is A Ho

A Roe Ho, that is.  ;)

Our daughter was given some roe by a friend who had saved it for her from his annual netting of whitefish in one of our inland lakes.

Roe is another name for eggs harvested from a female fish.  And from roe, caviar is made.  She's done this several times in the past. Today we were the recipients of her efforts.  The following pictures are those she took of the process along with descriptions.

When the eggs come out of the female fish, they are enclosed in a casing holding them together (much like a hairnet).  From which they must be (carefully) extracted.  Oops, no pics of that.  Because, as DD said, it wasn't very photogenic.

After separating the eggs from the casing they are in, you manually pick out all the casing pieces and any stray fish scales (of which there are always a few). 

Above, L-R:  the discard pile, awaiting the delighted chickens; relatively clean roe, eggs in their casing soaking in brine.

 

 "Clean" roe awaiting the final cleaning.

After many repeated rinses of clean, ice cold water, you VERY gently spread the roe in a very thin layer to remove any further impurities.  The most crucial things is to not put any pressure on the eggs which would result in an oily, cream-colored smear rather than nice, clear, plump caviar.

 

Interesting aside here:  several years ago, our daughter worked in a local fishery for 2 or 3 seasons and, along with a really neat young woman from Russia, was assigned the task of salting the caviar (following the final cleaning).  (They called themselves Roe Hos.)  The final cleaning, before the salting and packing, is the time-consuming portion of making caviar and what makes it so expensive.  Because each fish egg is so very, very tender, they have to be "picked" by hand.  Meaning that, after washing and the removal of the "big stuff" (fish scales that slipped through and the membranes holding the eggs), the roe has to be thinly spread out (being careful not to burst a single eggy pillow) and inspected.  Any imperfections are then removed.  By hand.  (Imagine bending over tables doing that for 8 hours a day in a refrigerated room!)

Clockwise from bottom left:  final cleaning of roe, discards for chickens, fairly clean roe, caviar on ice.

Salt is what preserves the fish eggs and makes them into caviar.  Some people prefer to soak the roe in a specifically ratio-ed salt-to-water brine.  Others simply salt (with another closely guarded ratio) the fish eggs once they're completely clean.

Once that's all been done, you are left with . . . caviar! 

Whitefish caviar, being one of the least expensive caviars, is currently selling for $8.00/oz.  That makes this beautiful bowl full of locally-sourced omega-3s worth $168.56! 

Hmmm, now what kind of wine would be suitable for serving with caviar and crackers tonight?  (DD advises a dry white.)  You're all invited.

Working In A Freckle Cream Factory And How I Got There

When I was 16-17 years old, I worked in a three-story department store in the town where I grew up.  I worked there full-time during one summer and after school and all day Saturday during the following school year.  My pay was sixty cents an hours.  (Boy howdy, does that date me.)  In my department, we also got a discount on all clothes purchased which was a real incentive to me as a teenage girl.

 

Before the end of my first year there, a family friend of ours mentioned to my mom that the small factory in which she worked was looking for help and wondered if I might be interested in the job.

 

I went in for an interview with the owner of the company and was offered the job.  I told him I was eager to accept but would need to give a two-week notice to the department store.  I would then be ready to start in the factory when school let out for the summer.

 

On my next work shift, I went into Mr. Larkin's office, who was the manager of the department store, and gave him my notice of quitting.  He asked why I was leaving, so I told him of the job I had been offered and of the pay increase going up from sixty cents an hour to $1.00 an hour.  He told me that if I didn't mention it to other employees, he would offer me the dollar an hour to stay.  I thanked him but said I felt it was time to make the move.

 

So, dear reader, where is all this preamble leading?

 

To this magazine from 1925 that my daughter shared with me a few days ago.

 

What a blast looking through it, reading the articles and looking at the many ads the magazine contained.

 

Imagine my surprise when I came across this ad for Stillman's Freckle Cream.  The very same small company I started working for when I left the department store in 1960!

 

Stay tuned.  Next blog post . . . my job and adventures working at the freckle cream factory. 

Before Spring Time . . .

 Most often we know spring time is coming when the month of March arrives and we get inches of beautiful, wet snowfalls.

This happened last Wednesday when we woke to about 10" of the stuff.

I took this shot through a kitchen window over the evergreen boughs in a window box.  It sure was pretty!

Papa Pea had his work cut out for him.  He was concerned that perhaps our good, old (very old) Gravely garden tractor with snow blower attachment wouldn't be able to handle the heavy, wet snow.

But once again, our trusty Gravely proved its worth and saved a lot of hand shoveling close up against buildings.

The truck with plow blade was used on the driveway, of course.  Even so, it was some of the most difficult plowing of the winter.

But that's the characteristics of our March snows.  And, yes, they really do herald the coming of our spring season.  We're sure it's under there somewhere just waiting to burst forth.

Currently . . .

A couple of days ago we donned our snowshoes and took a walk around the perimeter of the 7' high deer fencing that surrounds our gardens, fruit trees and miscellaneous growing areas.

 

The results were a bit disheartening, but expected.  This fence has done stalwart duty for over twenty years so we can't begrudge the fact that it has to be replaced this spring or as soon as we can muckle it.

 

In places it's now come loose from the steel posts holding it upright, and there are a few holes that have been haphazardly patched over the years.  Now the patches need patches.

 

When walking along the southern most part, we made a detour into the woods to reacquaint ourselves with the markers indicating that border of our property.  Papa Pea has a desire to take out some of the underbrush and tallest trees in that area so more of the precious sunlight can reach that end of our gardens.  It's always hard for me to agree with cutting down any trees, but I can see what he means about making sure we get as much sunshine and warmth on the soil and growing plants as possible because our season is so very short.

 

I'm not sure why but I'm finding myself more eager for the coming gardening season than I have been in years, but I am.  It's not that I haven't, in previous years, managed to grow a good amount of our crops.  We still have ample supplies on the pantry shelves and in the freezer.  

 

Although I did get a surprise this morning when I went into the freezer to pull out Stuffed Green Peppers for a company dinner tonight.  Yikes, I plumb emptied the container taking out the last of them needed.  I'll have to go back in my records to find out how many I made last season . . . and make a few more this time around! 

Still Here

I've been AWOL for a while here on my blog.  No excuse other than I've felt I've had nothing of interest to share.

 

Not that life has been devoid of happenings.  The past few weeks have been busy as usual.  Perhaps even a bit more so than usual.  Full of ups and downs as it seems to be for everyone these days.

 

This is a slow time of year (or as slow as it gets anyway) what with winter winding down, although warm weather is still months in the future for us here in northern Minnesota.

 

Nonetheless, I woke this morning thinking of garden plans.  And Papa Pea and I have begun talking of projects for accomplishment in the coming months of weather suitable for working outside.

 

My two biggest "jobs" for this spring, summer and fall days are painting the trim on the house and, of course, our garden.  One which will be, as always, very enjoyable and satisfying for me.  The other?  Let's just say I really don't mind painting but will be glad when the task is done.

 

At the same time, we're also looking forward to many more hours of relaxation and recreation when we don't have to don several layers of clothing and insulated boots before venturing out-of-doors for even the shortest time.  There's much to enjoy in this beautiful area in which we live.  Even just anticipating sitting on the deck with the sun bathing my currently lily-white appendages sounds enticing.

 

The sun is in a position in the sky now where it streams into the kitchen south-facing windows in the morning and lays a lovely pattern on our old, scarred kitchen table.  I'll miss seeing this in a short time when the sun climbs to a different position.

 

I've noticed that it's now light enough at 6 a.m. to be able to see clearly if you wanted to be outside at that hour.  Of course, that's soon to change this coming weekend when our clocks "spring" ahead one hour.

 

It is a time in our life when most folks would say we should be "cutting back" on dreams, goals and new challenges, but we both still feel good (as she beats her chest and proclaims, "Me strong as bull!") and haven't reached that chronological age stage yet when we feel like becoming a bit sedentary.  I have a really hard time realizing that in 6-7 weeks I will be an octogenarian.  And Papa Pea is a year and a half ahead of me.  Just think of all the wisdom we must possess at this ripe old age. 

 

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