Raised Beds - the half laps

Thursday my husband Tim and neighbor Mike spent cutting the end pieces for the beds, and half lapping them. Here they are stickered and weighted to keep them from twisting with the changing spring weather. That's 48 half laps for the end pieces.

Friday the three of us did the sides. We had perfect weather. Eighty plus degrees, and a nice breeze. Even though we ordered a new batch of ties, what we got were some that had been in the back of the lumber yard, under a pile of snow. The ones in the center were wet and frozen solid. They've been sitting for almost a week here as we waited for them to thaw and dry. The dry ones were about a hundred pounds. Some of the wet ones were probably between 180 and 200 a piece. And we had to move each one 4 times, and spin them three times. Fun. I did my share of lifting and carrying, and I woke up with only one stiff bicep. I guess I'm in better shape than I thought!

First Tim marked them and took most of the wood out with a chain saw. Two cuts per end. Times 24, equals 48 ends.

Cut down, then spin and cut from the other direction.

The first stage "done" pile is growing.

Then we moved them into the garage where Tim used a dato blade and radial arm saw to clean the corner and smooth away the last quarter inch of wood. That poor saw! We almost stopped it at least half a dozen times, but it held up, and everyone came away with all their fingers and toes!

Now the second "done" pile has grown. We stickered and weighted the long pieces, and covered them with a rubber membrane since it is supposed to rain all this week again.

This is the waste from the two stacks of half laps.

I was thinking if the 6" bed was not deep enough, that someday I could add another layer. But I can tell you now. That is never ever ever going to happen! I had decided that about half way through the 5 hours of lugging 100+ pound ties. My husband voiced it at the end. He's never ever ever going through this again! He did get through it pretty quickly though. And we only had to remind him twice that he wasn't building fine cabinetry. He had suggested that as a "safe word" phrase before we started. Since my husband is a perfectionist, most projects require a "safe word" to keep things in perspective. Heck, some projects require a whole committee to keep him from going overboard!

Besides the ties, we also have gates reacdy to go. I didn't think to get a picture, but the neighbor fabricated them from mtal and a piece of cattle panel. They look really nice and are a vast improvement over the plastic snow fence gate I've had for the past 3 or 4 years!

Electrical

Yesterday my husband dug the electrical line from the house to the garden shed. Can you tell? Neither could I. Here's a hint.

What's cookin' in my garden

nothing...well, nothing photo worthy.

We are approaching the end of the second March on record where our area has had zero recordable snow fall. Which means it has been absolutely gorgeous out. The snow is gone, the ground is firm. We've had just a little rain and the lawn has been rolled. It is absolutely killing me that I don't have the perennial beds raked and edged, but I think I'll get that done this weekend. After all, it's supposed to be pushing 80 degrees, and I have Good Friday off. There couldn't possibly be a better situation.

I planted eggplants and peppers last Sunday, a week later than usual, but I'm stalling a bit. All but two varieties are up and doing well. The tomatoes go in this weekend.

So, what have we been up to? Planning. We have a HUGE project in the works. We are converting the 50x50 vegetable garden into raised beds. 12 beds, 3x12. 6 are mine, 6 I will share with the neighbors. This is both expensive and a mind boggling engineering feat. Why is that? Because the ground slopes, and the fence must be level. And so must be the planting beds. This is keeping my husband up nights. We have 15 inches of fall in 54 feet. Which, actually is ideal since we will be running french drains under the walks, and we need some fall to get the water to the ditch. But, he hasn't worked out how to make everything level on a slope. Don't worry about him. He'll figure it out. He'll get the back hoe out, and I will spend endless hours standing with the survey stick thingy making notes on a piece of paper while he shouts across the lawn and quizzes me endlessly on what numbers I just wrote down. I've been through it all before.

In the mean time, we have been collecting materials. The fence will be cattle panels on 4x4 posts, with 6x6 posts at the corners. Two gates which the neighbor is supposedly fabricating which are wide enough to drive the smaller tractor through. The beds will be 6x6s half lapped at the corners. The paths will have stabilization mat and gravel but also 2x2 concrete pavers between the beds, and 3x3 concrete pavers up the middle. All these pavers have been pile around here for years and used here and there as necessary. They have finally found their final purpose. Under the fence will be 2x6 edging to keep the gravel in and the grass out.

Somewhere under the center walk will be the 500 gallon tank collecting rain water from the roofs. There will be a spigot on a post for the garden hose. The drain lines must be run as well as the electrical. We also need to run the electric to the garden shed and chicken coop.

So, yes this is a huge undertaking. But, when we're done, I will have low maintenance beds which (with intensive planting) will give me MORE row space than I had before AND I will never have to rototill the paths and wade through muck ever again. I will just have to fight the usual battle against purslain which will probably continue to thrive even in gravel paths.

So, that is just a breif preview of the next two months. I will be documenting each stage. The goal is to have one raised bed done in time for planting tomatoes and eggplants.

I Find This Hard to Believe

I placed my eggplant, pepper and tomato seed orders, and I stuck to the plan! I followed the list and plan that I laid out last year. I didn't make any changes. That has NEVER happened before!



You see, I'm a planner. I plan right down to how many pots I have for starting seeds. I have grow lights and heat mats for three flats. I have three flats of pots carefully collected and matched up from previous purchases. These flats are carefully washed, disinfected, and stored each year.



Eggplants and Peppers go in one flat because they are shorter than the tomatoes. They get started 2 weeks earlier too, which is the second week of March. Here is my seedling potting plan.

Some of these seedlings will go to my mother and father for their gardens. There are also a couple of extras for unplanned disasters. I have bad luck with seedlings for black varieties, so there are extra extra of those.

I actually stuck to this list. I went to Gardeners.com and used their bed planning tool to double check my numbers. But, we'll save my planting plan for another day.

Also, I am eating asparagus from the fancy grocery produce department. Somewhere in the world, it is spring!

Winter ~ Dreaming of Gardening

With seed starting still almost a month away, I have finally allowed myself to think about gardening.... just for a minute. I went through my old seed packets, cleaned house, consulted my garden layout, and made a list of things to order. Next I sourced some of my favorite hard to find items such as White Pearl Cucumbers, and Ichiban Eggplants. Thank you Google! Next week I will begin ordering.

In the meantime, my husband and I have had gardening in the back of our minds. I am looking forward to putting in raised beds. My husband, prone to flights of fancy, has (as usual) deviated from "things important to me", and created his own project. He has been watching too much Living With Ed and has decided my garden should be completely off the grid. He has obtained a free 500 gallon tank, and has scrubbed it to within an inch of it's life, and is now planning to bury it next to the garden shed and route all the downspouts into it to collect water for watering the garden. He was also planning to put in a solar panel and batteries, so he doesn't have to dig an electric line out there. Thankfully, it was cost prohibitive. Estimated to be around $2000, and since I'm in the garden shed after dark, well, NEVER, that ought to have paid itself off in about 40 years. I will probably regret this when we get chickens again, and want the heat and lights on timers to increase egg production, but for right now, I'm glad he has given up the solar idea. Now if I can only get him out of the garage and focused on actually building the raised beds.....

Which Way to Spring?

Which Way to Spring?

Gramma's Mollasses Cookies

Since garden season is pretty much over, I thought I'd branch out into other home keeping type subjects. Today I'm cooking. I've made ham and bean soup off the bone from last Sunday's dinner. I have spices steeping for Swedish Glogg, and cookie dough chilling in the fridge. I'm making my grandmother's molasses cookies. I wrote this story last Christmas, but I thought it would be a good time to share it...this time I only made half the recipe!



So my mission, is like so many women before me... to keep the traditions alive. I've been longing for some of Gramma's ginger cookies, so I thought for Christmas, it would be nice to make some and share with the family. Actually, I did not consider sharing until I read the recipe. Now I realise it will not simply be an act of family tradition, but a necessity.

A couple of weeks ago, I asked my Mom to find the recipe. She promised she would. She also said she had a tub of Lard I could have. Lard? I don't really plan on using Lard. "Well, they won't be the same without the Lard".
I gave it a couple of days, contemplating the thought of baking cookies with Lard in the year 2008. After much thought, I relent. "Alright fine, give me the Lard." Mom smiles knowingly "Good thing you have the Kitchenaid.”

Today, I am happily off work and snowed in. 5 days 'til Christmas. It’s a perfect day for baking. I had already read the recipe and bought supplies accordingly. In addition to the Lard, I bought a second bottle of Dark Molasses, in case one wasn't enough, 5 pounds of unbleached flour, and an extra jar of Cinnamon.

I wrestle the Kitchenaid out of it's cupboard. WHY do I keep this monstrosity over the refrigerator? Oh, I remember, it's the only cupboard large enough. I jockey it over my head narrowly missing the blades of the ceiling fan thinking...”why don't I remember to turn that thing off? Remember what happened to the toaster?”

I start with the lard. 2 cups. My kitchen now smells faintly of bacon. Suspiciously, I scrutinize the ingredients on the pail of lard, but it does not reveal what I already know to be true. Lard is pig fat. Granted, it has less bad fat than butter, while it also has more than twice as much good fat than butter. Still, this does not look (or smell) like the beginnings of a cookie recipe. I glance over my shoulder to make sure my husband is still out plowing. I would hate to have to explain putting bacon grease in the cookies. 1 1/2 cups sugar, 2 eggs, cream... now the Lard at least looks better even if it doesn't smell better. 2 cups of dark molasses. I was right, 1 bottle only has 1 2/3 cup in it. Should this stuff come in gallons? Open the second bottle. The smell of Lard is soon overcome by the molasses. My kitchen no longer smells like bacon, it smells like the feed mill.

1 ½ cup of unbleached flour mixed with 2 tbsp soda, 2 tbs cinnamon (am I reading that right? Tablespoons?) open the second jar of cinnamon. 1 1/2 tbsp ginger, 1/2 tsp allspice, 1 1/2 tsp salt. I mix that in and warily eye the mixing bowl. It is now dangerously full of batter. Yes, Batter. And the next step is 2/3 cup boiling water. This ought to be good. Although I pour slowly, the Kitchenaid, in it's usual display of bad temper, splashes boiling brown batter on the wall and floor. THAT looks yucky. I leap for the paper towels before my husband comes in to see what looks like...well you know... all over the floor.

Now comes the rest of the flour. I am supposed to add 7 to 9 cups to texture. I dump most of the 5 pound bag of flour into a large bowl, and I can't see how 9 cups of anything are going to go into the already full mixing bowl. I get a scrap of paper and a pencil and start making hash marks to keep track of how much I've put in. Amazingly, through some phenomenon of science, the flour does not increase the volume of the batter. It disappears willingly into the brown soup . The viscosity changes from batter to something more closely resembling dough.

The Kitchenaid groans. It's been through this drill before. It knows what's coming. I keep my hand on the top, testing the temperature of it's motor as I add flour. At 7 cups (8 1/2 total, because we already put some in earlier) the dough reaches a familiar consistency. It has been over 25 years since I stood on a stool in the farm kitchen and watched this dough being made, but I remember it well.

Finally satisfied, I scrape the sides and the beater and set the bowl outside on the porch to chill. I turn my attention to my exhausted mixer and the counter. Not bad. Besides the batter-spatter incident, all went well. There isn't even much flour to clean up. It actually ALL went in there. The Kitchenaid stands on the counter panting from its exertions. I consider bathing it with Vetrolin and throwing a cooler over it for an hour. A thorough sponging with plain hot water does the trick. It will survive and be ready for the peanut butter balls later.

I pause to collect my thoughts. The dough will need to chill at least an hour, then I will roll it into balls and press it with the sugared bottom of a glass to press each cookie down, and place a raisin in the center of each. The recipe doesn't reveal how many dozen it makes. We'll have to wait and see. I'm sure it will be enough to share with the rest of the family. Those old farm wives didn't mess around. They made enough for a whole farm crew all at once.

I turn my attentions from mixing to baking. I preheat the oven. The recipe says 350 degrees 8-10 minutes and DON'T burn them. Burnt ginger cookies are no good. The recipe actually says this. A little trial and error and I settle on 9 minutes. I roll and press, remembering to double strike them to get extra sugar on them. Soon my hands begin to resemble Gramma’s. The fingers are red and overall, that familiar sheen of… Lard. They are soft cookies, and not burning the bottom means they will still be soft when you take them off the sheet.

After 4 dozen I perfect the technique of getting them off the sheet without smooshing the sides and only have to eat four rejects. After 5 dozen I am considering putting the rest of the dough back outside and saving it for another day. After 6 dozen I lose count and begin to run out of room on the dining room table. Out of necessity, I stop eating the rejects. After 7 dozen I decide I’ve been on my feet all day and the peanut butter balls can wait until another day as well. The Kitchenaid goes back in the cupboard clearing more space for cooling cookies.

My memories don’t include acres of cooling cookies. How was this accomplished in that tiny kitchen? After 8 dozen I am looking at the rest of the dough and figuring maybe I should just throw it out. I scrape the last from the bowl and do a final count. Including the ones I broke and had to eat, 106 cookies. That's 8.8 dozen. Whewww! Most recipes make 3 to 4 dozen. They are sort of pretty all laid out on the table. Their sugary tops glimmer in a Christmasey sort of way. I think back over my childhood. Gramma almost always had these cookies in the jar. I would guess she made a batch like that once or twice a month. If she didn't make these, it was peanut butter cookies. What a lot of work. But completely worth it.