Tag: Family

The DARKest DAY of the YEAR

Just happens to be the FarmGirl's birthday.  Raise your hand if you're shocked by this. That's what I thought. So, my brother and cousin started razzing me years ago about being born on the Winter Solstice because it's the day with the least amount of daylight.  And for some reason, they saw me as a dark person.  (Again, show of hands?)  Could it BE the dry sarcasm?  Real plates are for wussies. Eh.  It's fine.  I am in no way offended.  I am a Solstice Baby.  It's a very magical day, a day of rebirth and new beginnings and clear dream visions,...Read More
Birthday Dinner for the Woman Who Bore the FarmGirl

Birthday Dinner for the Woman Who Bore the FarmGirl

[caption id="attachment_1055" align="alignnone" width="614"] Greenhouses in December[/caption] Yes, that means my mother.... and at times she does indeed bore me.  And me her, I'm sure.  But it's give and take and that's what makes the world go 'round, right? [caption id="" align="alignleft" width="180"] Little Smart Ass. Think it's hereditary?[/caption] Like THIS for example.  I'm so glad I taught my little beast his letters and now he can use them to his advantage.  Or so he thinks.  I found myself staring at THIS lovely display two nights ago.  Everything is spelled correctly, too, so I guess my job here is done. ...Read More
Breaking News….

Breaking News….

  [caption id="attachment_921" align="alignright" width="180"] Mmmm.... Limey![/caption] FarmGirl Stabs Self in Hand with Steak Knife.  Was Sandwich Worth Bloodshed? No.  It wasn't. But the fact that my darling boy had just gotten off the school bus in a pissy mood and was bitching and whining about lunch AS I IMPALED MYSELF led him to feel the most tremendous guilt I've ever seen in a 6-yr-old.  It was amazing.  He danced around like the floor was made of hot coals while offering up bandaids. He was so overcome by emotion that he actually started to tear up.  He KNEW that his yapping distracted me, and although...Read More
C’mon Daddy, Light My Fire!

C’mon Daddy, Light My Fire!

[caption id="attachment_861" align="alignright" width="158"] The Tools of the Trade (meaning, I trade food for repairs): note the all-important cigar (Fletch!)[/caption] Ok, so my dad doesn’t look like Jim Morrison… OR Val Kilmer…  But he IS handy with doors, as he fixed mine only a few short months ago.  The fact that in a previous life The Doors provided good make-out music probably should have led me to a different title, but eh.  I’ve never been known for being PC. And since I’ve got this horrific earworm now, so should you!  <insert evil cackle here> Many thanks to Dad  who re-lit my...Read More
It May LOOK Like Spaghetti…..

It May LOOK Like Spaghetti…..

[caption id="" align="alignleft" width="225"] A lovely autumn day on Celery Ave[/caption] Yeah... Spaghetti squash wasn't a hit with The Boy.  At least he tried it, though, which is an improvement over the last 2 years or so. He even tried Brussels sprouts this week.  Well, not exactly the sprouts.  You see, Brussels sprouts grow on a tall stalk with leaves coming out in a circular fashion, and the sprouts grow right above the stem of the leaf.  As Dad (Farmer Sonny) puts it, a little cabbage grows out of each crotch.  Not so appetizing when you put it THAT way, right?  Anyway,...Read More
Subliminal Messaging in Blogs

Subliminal Messaging in Blogs

.... works to MY advantage!  I feel such a surge of power right now. Guess who came home yesterday to a phone message saying, "It's Halloween, so the westerns are being made right  now and will be keeping warm in the oven whenever you're ready to eat"?  Heh heh heh.  Thanks, Mom! They were delicious.  *sigh*  I eat them open-faced, usually, as I'd much prefer to stuff myself full of greasy, eggy goodness than soft bread.  I had 2 sandwiches with 3-4 westerns on each, the last sandwich consumed while I took Thomas to get a warmer jacket because it was...Read More
Boo!  It’s Halloween!   …or It’s Your Cholesterol

Boo! It’s Halloween! …or It’s Your Cholesterol

October for farmers is like May for high school seniors.  You get a case of the screw-its.  Or the more vulgar f%#&-its.  Or just 'senior-itis'.  You remember ---- all the learnin'  you needed to do is done.  Graduation is just around the corner and nothing you do now can mess that up.  You're walking regardless of whether or not that book report was handed in. [caption id="attachment_745" align="alignleft" width="300"] Halloween zombies removing tomato plants from the fog-laden fields.[/caption] So here we are in October, with 2 markets finishing up this week.  It feels good.  REALLY good.   We're doing a CSA...Read More

The FarmGirl Cooks… and So Does Her Dad!

[caption id="attachment_620" align="alignright" width="223" caption="Sonny preps corn to blanch and freeze for winter."][/caption] Don't get me wrong... Mom does too - just not as much as (or with the enjoyment of) Dad. And most of his creations start the same way:  "Cut up some bacon and put it in a pan, then put in the ________". Do you remember the cilantro-chile sauce I made a few weeks ago?  I shared some with Dad (because SURPRISE!  he popped in when I was making it), and then gave him a bit to take home.  A few hours later, I get a call.  "I took...Read More

Life Happens

[caption id="attachment_597" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Chilly Walk at Sunset"][/caption] I had lots of ideas in my head and planned to write up some new recipes this week, but sometimes, as we all know, things don't go as planned. Too much going on farmwise - we had a light and scattered frost on Tuesday morning.  That means the 15-minute Tuesday drive around the farm took about 40 minutes instead.  Dad and I always take a ride around checking out which crops (or plantings of multiple crops) are ready for harvest each week.   So we hopped in the Jeep Wrangler (Mom's baby from 1987.... still with...Read More

The Little Black Dress in the Kitchen

 * So here I am trying to type and post these recipe ideas and The Boy is being very affectionate and needy.  He's wonderfully happy, and ridiculously talkative, as any young man would be after riding along with Papa in the John Deere for the last hour.  He is emptying the contents of his piggy bank (ie coffee can with slit in lid) on my desk between me and my keyboard.  He reminds me of my cat (RIP, Miss Book), climbing all over me 'in the heat of the moment' like nothing important is going on (no comment) and why can't I interrupt?  This is...Read More