My pet yeast

I had to be away for about a month and so I put my supply of fresh yeast into hibernation. This is done by covering the container with a non-metallic perforated top, to allow the drying process in the fridge. On December 12, I reactivated the organisms by stirring in a little lukewarm water and a tablespoonful of flour. The intention was to make bread in the next couple of days. I overestimated my energy level. After nearly 40 hours of travel through heat and sleet I was a lumpen mass. There was just strength to look after the handyman who had to plow the long driveway after each snowstorm. Then he had to add to his stockpile of firewood on December 17 which turned out to be a full moon night. I pointed out the glowing moon in the east and Venus in the southwest. I got a grunt. The moon was celestial and I did not see the cheese, the man or the jade rabbit. It was like the moon in my childhood memory when my grandmother acknowledged it by making offerings of sugarcane, cups of clear water and a vegetarian mooncake. These were placed on a marble-topped round table pushed to the entrance of the house. She discontinued the practice promptly in early 1970's. My illiterate and thinking grandmother.                                     

Meanwhile the yeast was proliferating with renewed vigour and to prevent it from getting too sour I fed it with more substrate, flour that is.                

And today, the shortest of the year, I shall make bread. He deserves cake but I don't do cake. Happy birthday and tomorrow the day lengthens.
                  

Harvest for Thanksgiving

                                                                Happy Thanksgiving

The Sunflower's Trek

                         By the sunflower clock, I can tell it is time to harvest the potatoes.      

                       Not too bad as somebody did a good job in hilling and it was not billy

September 15 with Jones

A week before the equinox and good weather, like today, is a bonus. I almost said godsend but I better take God out of the planetary weather governance. A pleasant today in Nova Scotia to enjoy the small and the large.

The large is the Great Dane, Jones, without the rock floor of a drafty castle and a trestle table top and thrown chunks of meat on the bones. Poor Jones, less of an insularity than the 4 horns sheep of the Ilse of Man, but unlike the Ilse of Man's cats he has a healthy spine and a wicked tail.

 There we are under the gaze of the Sunflower.

Imperfection all round; there is a caption in this blog that I do not know how to delete.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

   blackberry and cherry tomatoes

  

Labour Day Weekend

I am trying not to be overwhelmed by the speed in which produce from the garden needs to be processed. With the cauliflower we had 2 missteps but finally did get a head under the self blanching leaves.

The head or curd is tight and white unlike  the 2 that we overlooked, in which each constituent bump on the head was branching out. Bolting, that is.

Not very pleasant to look at though the discoloration does disappear if the cauliflower is processed for pickles. Yesterday, August 31, was pleasant enough in the afternoon for digging potatoes, and we did.

Today, it is wet and grey and calls for a Nova Scotian kitchen celebration.     

Happy Birthday CVL

Just Photos

                                          Snooze, Grandpa, I'll drive. Put foot there

                                          Loader removed on Little Red for maintenance

                                                  Humming birds' and people's feeder

                                                        Bee Balm and Company        

                                                               Tiger Lily opens

                                               Gift from Neighbour, a skilled gardener

                                                    Another little boy, Eloise's Dad

Orphaned Muskrat

On his way to work, on July 27, Jason saw this furry ball beside its dead mother. Knowing that it will not survive on its own, he tried to catch it but to no avail. Returning from work, he found it still there. Must be the element of desperation that made him succeed in capturing it.  Now what?

Good thing Sarah knows about Hope for Wildlife (HFW). She contacted the not -for -profit organization by phone, as directed in the website. Arrangement was made to meet at New Glasgow to handover the little muskrat. HFW is located in Seaforth, NS.                                              

                                                             Home at Hope