Yesterday was gorgeous–74 degrees or so and sunny.  A perfect fall day.  I kept telling myself, since  I was trapped inside grading papers all morning and most of the afternoon, that it was actually a little too warm to work in the gardens.

Instead, I worked online down at the coffee shop–the furnace guys were here removing my original-to-the-house (built in 1951) furnace and putting in a spanking-new 95% efficient unit with a fancy air cleaner filter.  They were banging and wrenching and screwing (not that kind!) and singing of all things, so I headed out to a more concentration-friendly locale.

When I hit home at about 3:30pm, the difference in the air quality in the house was simply amazing!  But the Energy Star settings on the programmable thermostat leave something to be desired.  Since when is it a savings to heat the house to 70 degrees?

So, I’m working through the manual and will have to knock some serious degrees off those settings.  I know everyone called it a political misstep when Jimmy Carter told everyone to turn the heat down and put on a sweater, but for cryin’ out loud folks–turn the heat down and put on a sweater! Either that, or do some more jumping-jacks.

After yesterday’s intense grading work-out, I decided to take today off.  When my boy isn’t here, that means that I go out and work in the gardens at whatever speed I’m feeling up to, and I repeatedly tell myself, this is all I have to do. There is nothing more that needs to be done.

So, I finished pulling the bean vines down from one of the trellises and raked both sides of the bed, and I manured and turned half of it.  It wasn’t that much, really, but half this bed is about 100 square feet.

Working at a leisurely pace, I also pulled out the rest of the broccoli stalks and the lowermost row of eggplant and their cages.  That’s about all I managed, but it was my day off, after all.

While I was raking, I uncovered this little guy, but he hopped off to find better shelter after a bit.  There were actually mosquitoes out today–so hopefully he was getting a little something to eat before hibernation.

The only things left in the garden for us to eat are the mustard greens–but I forgot to grab a bag and go back and clip some for our dinner.  I did snap off a few last broccoli florets for H before pulling the plants, but it looks like leftovers are on tap for tonight–something easy so I can continue the lightweight theme of the day.

Last night’s local feast featured a pork shoulder roast from our friend Nate, mashed potatoes made with Gary Bye’s Pontiac reds and local (Burbach’s) milk, plus some applesauce I’d canned last year from an abandoned apple tree in the neighborhood.

The roast was maybe three pounds, bone-in, and it was still a little frozen from having just been taking out of the freezer the night before.  I sliced some onions and layered them on the bottom of my crockpot, put the roast on top, then whisked together a sauce of grainy mustard, crabapple jelly (my own, of course), and a little veggie stock.

The sauce got poured over the top of the roast, and I cooked it on high for maybe four hours, then turned to low for another hour or two.  If your roast isn’t frozen, you might turn it down sooner.  I did baste the roast a couple times, and I turned it over about halfway through cooking, but you can pretty much leave it alone if you want.

When I served it, I ladled a little of the sauce with onions over the top of the potatoes–just a little for flavor, as it was pretty fatty from the meat cooking in it, and I didn’t want to try to make gravy.

The crockpot is my go-to for dinner when I’m busy with work, but know I’m going to want something hearty for dinner at the end of it all.  I’d never made a pork shoulder before, but I like that mustard flavor with virtually any pork product, and the addition of fruit is always good, too.

I would definitely make this recipe again–H must have said “Mmm” about seven or eight times in the process of eating it.  That’s all the encouragement I need.

I’ve been tempted to post an “out of office” note here–though knowing my own tendencies I would likely begin blogging three times a day simply because I said I wasn’t going to.  Instead of that, I’ll just say posts may be a bit more sporadic for an indeterminate length of time (and yes, I know they have been already).

This is the time of year when I feel that things should be wrapping up, closing down, getting put up and put away.  But the grind of life keeps up as always.  Coursework is heavy with critiques and grading, and the new courseware that we’ve been using has more than its share of glitches.

Yesterday morning, while attempting to send e-mails and grade papers, server errors kept cropping up and causing me to lose whatever I was working on at the time.  I finally gave up, called in a report to IT, and headed out to the farm for a couple of hours to work on fertilizing and turning the beds.

The physical work is a balm to me in stressful times.  I won’t say that I’m never out there grumbling to myself and hacking away at projects in a foul mood, but most of the time the stresses fall away as I see the results of my ongoing labor clearly, and know that the preparation I do now will lessen the spring’s burden.

Farming can, of course, be incredibly stressful when the transplants need to go in or they’ll die in their flats–when it’s not raining or when it won’t stop raining, when the weeds are waist-high, when the bindweed is taking over or the mower won’t run.

But this time of year, it’s no longer about keeping up with Mother Nature’s full-tilt growing season pace, so the work has more of a relaxed quality about it than in the spring and summer and early fall.

Working in the gardens this time of year is a meditation. It’s a time-out from figuring how best to deal with the new kitty we’re boarding for an indefinite length of time in terms of the jealous dog.

It’s a time-out from figuring out when I’m going to make those phone calls for DRA or deal with the ongoing grind of the dishes and laundry and meal preparation and dust and dog hair.

It’s a time-out from wondering when the furnace installers will call, and worrying that it won’t be done in time to get the rebates.  And wondering when I’ll have a half-day to sit down and compile the final grant report for the market, or the vendor list for the Department of Revenue.

It’s a time-out from stressing about massive grading projects and critiques and student evaluations in the face of courseware glitches and book issues that are out of my control.

It’s a time-out (sort of) from worrying about my boy and about how the upcoming custody evaluations and court case will turn out, even if I’ve convinced myself that I am doing what needs to be done–what’s best for him–no matter how it turns out.

And it’s a time out from feeling betrayed by a market vendor to whom I was a friend–invited into my home, fed, and comforted when she was upset–and who decided to start her own after-market using our signs and location without permission.  And then bad-mouthed me to the other vendors–saying I was “against” them.

I took a break from all that yesterday morning and was able to ferry manure to and turn seven beds in the space of a couple hours–there’s three more in that west garden to finish, and it looks as though I’ll have some left-over manure in that pile to use in another part of the garden as well.

Today is grey and sprinkly, but tomorrow and the next day–most of the rest of the week, actually–looks sunny and full of possibilities for more clean-up and turn-over in the gardens.

If I can make it through another grading project today (and maybe put away the Halloween decorations, do some dusting, put some market papers in order, figure out what to make for dinner early enough that it’s not a last-minute freak-out, maybe rake some leaves?), tomorrow might seem just a little more manageable.

Manure day!  At first our neighbor Kathy (who boards horses) and I talked about loading my truck, then she’d bring some loader-scoops down while I was shoveling out the truck-load–saving a bit of gas and wear on her machine.

Waiting for a load--Cosmo likes to help

But that manure was WAY wetter and heavier than I thought it’d be.  Last time, we got maybe four or five scoops in the back of the truck–this time we could only put in two and the poor little S-10 was riding on the axles.  And last time it was lofty and easy to pitch, too.

Clearing out load #2

Shoveling it out was killer.  Kathy probably came and went with more scoops four times while I was struggling with the muck-in-the-truck.  Jeez.  But she’d known it was going to take me some time, so she just kept going back and forth, bringing more fertile goodness to the gardens.

Piling it on

In the end, I had two nice-sized piles in the garden plus the second load of manure in the truck that I shoveled directly into the northeast garden beds and dug in right away.  Once I finished with that garden, I planted 72 cloves of garlic.  It’s always a tug-o-war with how much I want to plant and how much I want to save for winter eating.

Fertilizing the northeast garden

I even threw a few extra heads from my eating stash in my coat pockets just in case I needed to fill out the row.  Garlic is just one of the many crops I grow–but it’s a staple in our house. I treat it more like a regular vegetable than a mere flavoring agent, and when I use it in a meal, it’s fairly common for me to use 2-3 cloves at least.

So garlic-planting is about making sure I’ll have a fairly decent supply for myself, and some for next year’s CSA members (yeah, I’m thinking about a few) without taking up too much garden space I’ll need for the bazillion other crops I’ll be planning and planting.  In the end, I usually end up buying some extra from other local growers.

Last compost turning of the season?

I also threw in a few shallots I found intact down in my basement yesterday–those went in a smaller bed in the west garden.  The last project of the afternoon was to turn the compost again–adding a smattering of manure between the layers.

The day ended with a very hot shower to work out the kinks from all the shoveling and digging–I’d thought Advil would be in order, but I woke up the next morning feeling pretty good.  It always seems it’s the extended computer screen time that gets me kinked up–and not the heavy lifting and digging.

If it ever stops raining again for a few days, I’ll get more of those beds dressed and dug in–and the field sanitation isn’t even done yet in all of the gardens.  It’s all a race against freeze-up now–at this point I’ll dress-and-dig first to have spring beds ready right away, then worry about clearing the rest of the gardens if I have time.

At this rate and with this weather, it’ll be Thanksgiving before I get it all done!

Since I got that great anti-pull harness for the dog, I’ve been able to take walks without the guilt that hits if I leave her behind.

Cotton Park Trail along the Vermillion River is beautiful this time of year–and almost completely empty.  I’ve seen a total of two people in my recent walks–most days I see no one.  But I guess regular work hours might explain some of that.

It’s kind of nice having the trail to ourselves though–Vega gets to sniff every clump of grass and leaf along the way without being tied to her slow human the whole way.

By, B.J. I mean, of course, Ben Nesselhuf, our hard-working District 17 Senator.  The contest is still a year away, but I’m guessing Ben is making his intentions known early enough for other possible candidates for his current seat to step up.

I’m interested to know who that will be.  And will Mr. Mining Equipment Jerad Higman be running again on the R side with his record of downtown economic development and revitalization (’cause lord knows we need more restaurants and apartments in this town–we don’t yet have one apiece for every man, woman, and child).

It’s starting to look interesting already for the Clay/Turner Senate District.  Keep your eyes peeled!

An attempt to de-couple my blog from Facebook. I’ll still link to posts, but you’ll have to come here to read them!

Clearing out the last of the tomatoes, so I can move the wire rack I’m holding the excess produce on back into the sunny bedroom window for the houseplants (which is its main function).

I had three pint boxes of ripened red pear tomatoes, plus a couple peach lugs about half full each of red and ripening fruits.  Those all got cleared out, and now I have a tiny wire basket with maybe four or five not-yet-ripened tomatoes left.

That’s it for the fresh tomato season.  It’s over.

All those red ripe tomatoes went into the smaller stockpot with ingredients for a small batch of soup.  I won’t be canning this batch (the fact that most of the ‘maters have been separated from their vines for weeks makes me leery)–we’ll just eat some fresh and maybe freeze leftovers if there’s enough.

It’s bittersweet.  I hate to let go and accept the fact that winter is coming, but it’ll be good to get my living room back.  I’ve still got bags of onions, several winter squashes, and baskets of peppers to use up or move downstairs, but those things will keep relatively well in their raw form.

Next canning project is either applesauce (though my friend had a great idea to make and freeze apple turnovers a la our spanikopita adventure) or pickles.  The crock-fermented pickles in the basement are pretty much ready to go.

And judging from last year, I should be starting to get next year’s seed catalogs soon!

I’ve taken a few week hiatus from the canner as I work on my courses and get the house in shape after the growing season.  But I did buy a big box of apples at the farmers market, and I’ve had my mind set on chutney ever since I got them.

My attitude toward chutney might make a traditional Indian cook wince (I don’t know, not having met any recently).  My idea of chutney is simply a whatever-seems-good melange of fruits and vegetables in a spicy brown sugar and cider vinegar sauce spiked with ginger and a little hot pepper.

If that’s not your idea of chutney, my apologies.

I had planned to make a green tomato-apple chutney with a friend, but her tomatoes rotted, so I had to come up with some other mix.  Yesterday afternoon in the supermarket, I saw they’d recently got in some nice-looking big fennel bulbs and that seemed promising, so I picked one up.

Too, I had a bag of organic lemons in the fridge, some onions, sweet and hot peppers, crystallized ginger–all wonderful things to throw in the pot.

The lemons got in cut in half the long way, then sliced thinly, peel and all (no seeds).  Then fennel was also sliced into thin crescents along with a couple yellow onions, and I added a couple minced cloves of garlic.  The base was 3 1/3 cups of cider vinegar and about 1 1/2 cups brown sugar. I threw in a cinnamon stick and some ground chipotle.

I was going to cut the sugar really dramatically from the Putting Food By recipe, but settled for half the sugar called for in that recipe–I like tangy, but my initial super-conservative sweetening was a little too tangy.  Now it’s about right.

Once all the other veggies were in the pot (except the peppers), I started peeling, chopping, and adding the apples as I went.  If you do it this way, some of the apples kind of melt into the sauce, while the later-added ones retain some of their firmness.

In the end, the thing looked a little too brown, so that’s when I used the red and green peppers.  They added some nice color and a good counterpoint to the sweetness.

My favorite part of the chutney is the lemon peel–so tender, but still lemony-tasting in the sauce.  The whole thing is such a great combination of sweet and tangy and spicy that I have to rein myself in from sitting down and eating a pint of it with a fork.

But there was about a half pint left over, and that jar may be emptied before H gets home tonight.

USD campus, Churchill Haines 118 on Tuesday and Thursday from 9:30-10:45am.  Following the conclusion of the film on Thursday, one of the featured activists in the film, Frank LaMere, will be present to lead discussion.

From the website battleforwhiteclay.org:

Whiteclay is an unincorporated village of 14 people in northwest Nebraska bordering the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, home to the Oglala Lakota (also known as the Oglala Sioux Tribe). The Pine Ridge lies almost entirely in South Dakota.

Whiteclay lies on disputed land, merely 200 feet from the official reservation border, and less than 2 miles from the center of Pine Ridge, South Dakota, the largest town on the reservation.

The number of people living on the Pine Ridge has long been controversial. The 2000 census reports 15,521 residents, but in 2005 the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) revised the figure to 28,000. The Oglala Sioux tribal government maintains that the true population of the Pine Ridge is around 40,000.

Sale and possession of alcoholic beverages on the Pine Ridge is prohibited under tribal law. Except for a brief experiment with on-reservation liquor sales in the early 1970s, this prohibition has been in effect since the reservation lands were created.

Whiteclay has four off-sale beer stores licensed by the State of Nebraska which sell the equivalent of 4.5 million 12-ounce cans of beer annually (12,500 cans per day), mostly to the Oglalas living on the Pine Ridge.

If you’ve ever been to Whiteclay, you know exactly what Nebraska’s alcohol licenses have wrought. That all licenses are off-sale and Pine Ridge is a dry rez means there’s no legal place anywhere nearby for people who buy the beer to consume it. Nebraskans are making millions off illegal activity.

I wrote my M.A. History thesis on Whiteclay as an Executive Addition to the Pine Ridge Reservation in 2001/2002, spending time visiting the area and interviewing locals, as well as in the dusty stacks looking at primary documents, but I haven’t yet seen this important film.

Kudos to Professor Harry Freeman for bringing it to the USD campus.