I wasn’t planning to write anything tonight, but after going on a little midnight walk to see the full moon, I can’t resist sharing the magic. I have been anxiously awaiting tonight’s peak all day and have been busy ‘getting ready’. The children and I have been spending extra time with the chickens these past couple of days. I did some necessary tidying of the coop and even threw in a few flower petals as a treat for them. We cut the grass on the main lawn in time for a change in the weather again. It’s supposed to start raining sometime tomorrow afternoon I see. I even managed to re-sow new pots of spicy salad leaves which will hopefully last us several weeks like the last ones did. In the Biodynamic calendar, today was a ‘leaf day’ right before the full moon so germination is good at this time for plants you want to grow for their leaves. Also, when the moon is in its descending position in the sky as it is now, the focus is on what is happening in the soil. The full moon tonight is in a very low position in the sky from where I am on Earth, despite our hilltop position. So low that its glow is appearing by way of shafts of moonlight across our land. I had to search for it a little by finding a bright beam to stand in. It’s incredibly bright! Luckily, it is windy and there are only a couple of small oddly stretched clouds around. One of our cats appeared out of a dark cover of trees in the lane, greeted me and rubbed himself against my legs while we watched. The “Strawberry Moon” coincides with the ripening of the wild strawberries that grow on verges and in the cracks between paving slabs we have been enjoying this week. The tiny red pearls packed with sweet strawberry flavour that I wish I had a whole jar of to preserve for later. I’ll see if I can collect a few tomorrow for a tiny pot. The beauty of them is also in the rarity, so I think it would take a lot of luck to find enough. Besides, they are far too lovely not to share with all of the other creatures and children that love them too.
Author: A Wilder Life
Rain and Rosie
Bleary-eyed, I found my way to the chicken coop early this morning. I am getting up around 7 to go let them out as a new routine. The house is still quiet at that hour as none of us are early risers. Being at home for so many consecutive weeks has allowed us to find our natural rhythm. After apologising for being late in letting them out, sunrise is in fact at 4.55 A.M. I hasten to add, I fed the chickens and went back to the people house. The rain had started sometime in the very early hours so there was a dewy sweetness in the air and it seemed as if all of the pollen had been washed away. With the weather being so hot lately, my hay fever has been quite troublesome. I came into the house quietly, crept upstairs and peeked out of the curtain as I always do just to have a look towards the barn and my nasturtium plants. I guess I look out of curiosity to see if they’re looking well and on sunny mornings to see if the sun reaches that spot. It does, except for today, of course. Their leaves were reaching up towards the sky and even looked as if they’d grown over night. It’s a welcome change to see all of the plants enjoying a much needed drink. It is so true that there’s nothing like rainwater to give everything a lovely boost. I have been keeping one of the windows slightly open at night for air and night noises so when I got back into bed, I listened to the rain that had started again. A while later, we all got up and decided it would be an indoor day. There are always a great number of jobs to do inside as well as a bit of schooling and lots of play. Inspired by one of the children’s favourite cartoons, they asked if we could make some “Straw-nilla” cupcakes. They are very simple to make with just a gluten free sponge base, strawberry jam crammed into a little hollowed-out middle and vanilla buttercream frosting to top it off. I cobbled together the ingredients as I didn’t have quite enough self-raising flour and lots of the wrong kind of butter. If you go for strawberry and vanilla in there somewhere, you’ll get the flavour right. They love helping and really do help so it’s a fun and delicious time well spent. We had a satisfying sort out in the playroom which always revives their interest in toys and games they often overlook. The time came to go out and check if any more eggs had been laid and to maintain a presence around the chickens in order to deter sneaky rats. I popped into the garden also to pick a few radishes. We found two eggs had appeared in the nest box and gave them a ‘thank you’ gift of some vegetable peelings and plain spaghetti. They go into a frenzy when they see that coming and usually so does Rosie. She is our dearest, tamest, sweetest little chicken spirit guide of all. She is the only hen our son has named because she loves following him around, allows us to stroke her and has heaps of personality. She’s the pet who has taught us that hens are funny, lovable, and deserve to be thought of as creatures with soul. Our son brought to my attention that she wasn’t joining in this evening and even looked unwell. This is definitely not normal we kept saying. She just stood in the doorway of the coop and looked tired. We could all see that something wasn’t right and decided not to bother her by coaxing her out or touching her. By the time we climbed out of the enclosure, she had laid down and I knew she wasn’t okay but WHY HER? The others were still picking over the scraps so we had to come back in an hour or so to put them to bed. Maybe she would perk up and go to roost by then. Back in the kitchen, I made up a jar of pickled radishes full of worry for Rosie. I looked out and saw the children’s circus tent blowing across the lawn. Dashing out to grab it, I felt a sadness and was amazed at how quickly things can change where animals are concerned. It reminded me of pets I’d had as a child and how deeply I felt each loss. After recovering the tent and a call to my partner’s Father, we went out to check on Rosie and close the coop for the night. She had found her way to a corner but was still on the ground. What do you do? I’ve only had chickens for the last 7 months and had no idea what to do next. Luckily, my partner has past experience and a wise Father. We could leave her and check on her in the morning, but there were a lot of reasons not to. Our dear girl had to be dispatched by us and not left to suffer any kind of horrible end. We went in to get her and it was decided. I had to go back to the house but held her and thanked her for so many happy times and lovely eggs, and for the fact that I’d begun crying uncontrollably! My partner took her down to a beautiful place in our woods and that’s where she is now, in the earth. I feel such admiration for him, caring for her and being able to do what is necessary at an emotional time. That is country life and I was broken biscuits. The wind has been taken out of my sails for now, but our first loss here on the homestead will help to teach me one of many lessons about the will of nature.
A Home Camp
We are tentless but the fire bowl is blazing. The dry wood we gathered earlier from the lower paddock is burning well, taking away the slight chill. At the end of a hot day in May and early June, I find it suddenly feels cool at sunset. The waxing gibbous moon and a few stars have already appeared so the magic is all around. Our youngest is quietly nibbling on some Shepherds Purse seed pods, which I’ve allowed. She loves their heart shape, but only eats a couple at a time. They grow in the children’s playground along with some Forget-Me-Nots, Herb Robert, Field Speedwell and just lately some Scarlet Pimpernel. All truly wonderful names and sweet little flowers! We have some rather fun ideas for supper this evening. Earlier, my partner and I decided it would be nice to have a cold glass of something and opened a tin of stuffed vine leaves. They disappeared so quickly, we were left wanting more. I tried to think of a way to make some with leftover rice we still had from the night before. It already had onions cooked into it and just needed some dried herbs of some kind and a splash of vinegar. What to wrap them in wasn’t as difficult as you might imagine! Some of the hop leaves are now about the size of side plates and they are in fact very edible when blanched. I wasn’t completely sure if the prickliness would make them unpalatable if used as wraps, but the experiment could turn out to be a wonderful discovery. I waded through the wilds behind the vegetable garden in shorts and tall wellies to collect a few leaves. One zap from a hidden nettle was all I suffered so it wasn’t too bad. In the kitchen, my partner suggested that we fry the rice for several minutes while the hop leaves blanch in boiled water. He’s made the real thing before. I decided to go with Japanese rice vinegar and no herbs. Dill or dried mint would have been fun but I didn’t have any. I then placed the hop leaves end-to-end, overlapped them and used olive oil to stick them together for rolling. You only need slightly more than a tablespoon of the rice mixture to get a decent bite. The leaves had softened and were easily rolled. With a drizzle of olive oil, they were good to go! They looked exactly like they should but I wondered if they’d benefit from soaking in the oil for a while like the tinned version. No my friends, they were delicious, didn’t have prickles and maintained structural integrity. The taste was fresh and clean and I will definitely make them again. We also fried a plate full of homemade Asian inspired shrimp cakes on the fire that had chilli, coriander and garlic in them so it was quite a “Lockdown” treat. We do keep frozen cold water shrimp around, but are seriously considering not supporting that industry any longer despite their MSC certified rating. There are more sustainable fish to choose from if you have a look at the “Good Fish Guide” that is updated annually. We enjoyed the lovely shrimp cakes, stuffed hop leaves and chips. There was also a jar of pickled radishes floating around between us. The children have been loving harvesting the radishes they sowed and so I needed a way to keep eating them that wasn’t always the same. A lovely friend inspired me to pickle more things recently so I made a tiny batch. I sterilised a jar and added 6 sliced radishes, a clove of sliced garlic and a few slices of red chilli. I poured some boiling apple cider vinegar over the mixture and boiled the jar for 10 minutes in a pan. The result was sensational! So simple but yummy and tasty pink liquid to pour on things as a bonus. Almost like spicy pickled Daikon my partner said he had in Japan. I say, “Isn’t it like we’re camping tonight but without all the fuss”. We sat around the home campfire for a long time after eating and talked about what it would be like to sleep on the sun loungers under the Copper Beech. The children aren’t really old enough for that yet but I’m sure they’ll want to camp out some day. I think they’re afraid of the owls and foxes they can hear outside most nights. That’s fine with me, my brother and I once heard a bear outside our tent in California and that’s had a lasting effect on me. When the fire had almost burned out, we said Goodnight to the night noises and went in.
Under the old Copper Beech
We could easily be somewhere in the Mediterranean next to the sea today. It’s just the most perfect temperature with a light breeze, sun if you want it and welcoming shade if you don’t. The children and I are sitting on our deck space having a small lunch under the old Copper Beech tree. It shades us like an enormous natural umbrella, dropping the temperature by several degrees. I find I just can’t do blazing sun during the day anymore. This tree is a kaleidoscope of colours right now with burgundy, dark purples, reds, a hint of brown and even green. Shafts of sunlight are making it through, barely. I love the way the colour of the leaves complement my bright orange Calendula flowers that have just opened and the yellow buttercups that are dotted around the lawn. I’m such a 70’s girl, love it. There are swallows flying overhead which always reminds me of Spain. Those hot, dry holidays in Trujillo where the swallows gave us such a magical show at sunset, twisting in flight to catch the insects. I think of those times when the weather is like this. We’re told the old Copper Beech stands here as a memorial to a much loved dog who once lived here and who is buried beneath it. It’s lovely to be its new custodian. Beech trees have been revered for centuries for their strong feminine power and as symbols of truth, wisdom and knowledge. “Mother Beech” is definitely looking after us today and creating a calm, nurturing feeling. On May Day this year, we hung a large willow pentagram from it adorned with Rowan blossom, hop bines and flowers that were at their best to honour the glorious tree. “Copper Beech” was the first tree name my son learned to say as a toddler so it holds a lot of special meaning for me. There was a beautiful one near our old house that was instantly recognisable to him and I would always ask him to say it. Tonight when the sun starts to go down, the colours will change again with a spectacular orange glow. As we’re on the top of the hill, our Copper Beech is one of the very last trees to see the sun disappear. I have a feeling that this tree is going to be a huge source of pleasure for us and for those lucky enough to see it.
A Little Light Weeding
It was one of those lovely productive kind of days. The sun was shining, it wasn’t too hot and the children allowed me to get on with a few overdue jobs in and around the vegetable garden. My partner even built a new door to the chicken coop so that I can start shutting them in at night. I have a little ‘egg disappearing act’ going on I’ve become wise to. I’ll have to start getting up earlier in the morning to let them out to avoid getting chicken guilt. I didn’t have any biodynamically relevant jobs to do today in the vegetable garden as it was a ‘root’ day on a ascending, waxing moon. For those of you who haven’t the slightest idea about what that statement means, I’ll explain a little. Put simply, it is farming and gardening according to the phases of the moon and where the moon is positioned on a particular day. The methods are all organic, where soil health is key, only natural fertilisers are used, and it also incorporates an element of well-being and spirit in nature for the gardener. Sound good? I will allow you to look into it further yourselves if you are interested so as to not alienate anyone. It is the way I have chosen to garden here and I have a superb calendar that keeps me ‘in tune with the moon’. I’ve always had an intimate relationship with the moon throughout my life and it just makes sense to me that the moon’s effect on all living things and its powerful gravitational pull must be a force to work with. Back to the patch, I noticed today that the wild plants have put on a lot of substantial growth in the past week with all of the rain and warm days we’ve had. I found that I was concentrating mainly on trimming dock and nettles back from our many paths across the field and around the chicken enclosure. That’s great exercise I can tell you. I want to ‘re-wild’ the top field and meadow as I have said before, so I’m using only woman power to keep large growths of what the children call “naughty plants” down. I opened the gate to the vegetable garden and proceeded to trim the long grass, dock, a few nettles and edges of the beds. Still no “weeding”. As a lover of wild plants and those that are useful I am allowing a few to grow and flower in there for bees and for my needs. I’m using them for defense purposes too, disguising the succulent cultivated plants I’ve grown from seed. I say quietly, it is working but for many traditional gardener friends reading this, it does look messy. My feeling on the matter is that it’s a garden for producing delicious home-grown food, not for entering into any kind of competition. In my eyes it’s just how I want it and I love it. The children love it too and it has a wonderful fairy house we made together right in the middle of it out of old bits from the barn. We did have a blackbird last week that came in and turfed up a few small seedlings but they needed thinning anyway. The radishes and carrots that were flattened sprang back up so I didn’t mind about that either. I was hesitant today to start “weeding” among the broad bean plants, peas, corn, pumpkins, and cauliflower seedlings. After all, “weeds” are perfectly nice plants just growing somewhere we don’t want them to, right? They grow so vigorously in soil that is suited to them. My thoughts were turning over an intriguing idea that I read about a couple of months ago when researching ways to start a new vegetable garden. It is called “Do Nothing Farming” developed by Masanobu Fukuoka who was a Japanese farmer and philosopher. He developed a system of natural farming where he did not plow his fields (no digging), used no pesticides or artificial fertilisers, did not flood his fields like so many were doing and yet his yield equaled or surpassed the most productive farms in his country. With no “weeding” or agricultural practices, a farm or garden is considered a complete ecosystem that is self-supporting. This resonates with me in relation to working in harmony with nature here and not wanting to constantly be at war with it. Nature decides what grows and what does not. I find this an extremely eyebrow-raising notion, in a good way. As in biodynamic gardening, I have already established “companion planting” where the plants help each other to thrive. This happens because of a belief that certain combinations of plants offer support mutually by deterring or attracting insects and improving nutrient imbalances in the soil. My garden will have to grow a bit more before I can report on any successes with that one. My hope is that the munching little critters like mice, deer and insects steer clear so that we can enjoy one or two peas this year! I knelt down in the soil and decided to do a bit of light “weeding” just so that the new vegetable plants I sowed would have enough light and water to get ahead of the game. It also helps if you are able to see where they are. I only removed a small amount of so-called “weeds” so hopefully, Masanobu Fukuoka won’t mind too much.
The Hunter
I’m starting to wonder if the word “Foodie” is overused. I’d like to call it an unbridled enthusiasm for cooking and eating instead. That’s it’s very definition for me. I’ve discovered an exciting amount of wild edibles growing on the land that have sparked my interest. Long forgotten flavours that our ancestors ate as vegetables they had growing outside of their homes. There is something enticing in that thought and realising that we can EAT these plants is just impossible to resist. In doing some research and already knowing a little about wild plants, I knew a few goodies were out there waiting for me to have a tentative nibble. There are several chefs around the world who are into foraging and experimenting with their local plant life, even growing them in their kitchen gardens right now. I admire that some are reintroducing these old flavours in a modern way, albeit in an extremely high-end and expensive way. If only for the nutrition wild plants provide and some new tastes that are out there for free, I feel I must try them all. I love a good forage. In autumn, my mushroom senses start tingling when the conditions are right so I head out with my special knife, from a dear friend who also understands, and a favourite basket. I’m not much of a morning person so mushrooming happens for me as early as I can possibly manage which is like 8. I creep out alone and hit a few good places I know. The year before last, I had my best ever haul one morning. My basket was full to the brim with Boletus Edulis (Ceps/ or Porcini) and I was beside myself with excitement. I think I even had them stuffed into my coat pockets. It’s a feeling that must be experienced to believe. Wow, I can’t wait for autumn, but with my latest plant discoveries I think I’ll be ok all summer. What’s more, they’re right outside and I don’t have to get there before the flies. My passion for foraging in this country began in 2003 but goes back well before then. As a child hunting wild White-tailed deer with my father out in the deep country of Northern California, he imparted his knowledge, love and respect for the seemingly endless and powerful nature that surrounded us. We’d usually set out around 3 AM to get to a spot before sunrise which for a 14 year-old girl was quite a mission. My Dad took it all very seriously too. There was to be no complaining and all of our clothing had to be washed in unscented detergent. I admired his dedication as it all seemed quite sensible and necessary to what we were going out to potentially do. Days before the outing he would gather everything we needed, checked it over and even practiced shooting his bow to ensure we would be ready. I will never forget the bags of sunflower seeds and the staggeringly beautiful sunrises we got to see. He said to me once that this was his church. I felt the same way and that feeling is all beautifully relevant to me today in the form of my interest in being a solitary Pagan. Now it was too easy to start nodding off when the sun came up, but sometimes I would find that when left all alone to ‘cover that patch of woods’ or ‘just wait by that road across the valley’ unarmed, I was definitely awake. There are in fact mountain lions and black bear out there! My Dad seemed to know they weren’t there so I trusted that. Some of you may be smiling right now as you read because you know exactly how that feels! So if he made a kill, we would first have to track it down and with his special bone handled knife, he would relieve the animal of its entrails where it laid. Stay with me here, it was really not that bad and the level of respect my Dad showed for the deer giving it’s life to us made it a meaningful task. I like to think that comes from our small amount of Native American blood, that old reverence for the spirit of the animal. He would always keep the liver to bring home to offer it to his mother, my Grandma, and her waiting frying pan. That was usually where we went first as I recall, to my grandparent’s house to skin and hang up the body. It was all kind of ceremonial and a spiritual experience that has become a part of me too. I loved how everyone in the family got excited when someone ‘got a deer’ and we would stand around to hear the story and watch the gestures the hunter would make to tell everyone how it all happened. Sometimes this would be done by phone of course and my Dad would make excited noises as if he were there in person. After the deer was left to age for a few days, this huge carcass needed to be processed by hand so it would often end up on our kitchen island. Dad knew how to make all the right cuts of meat and would talk about what the animal ate and it’s free-range life before. Nothing went to waste and the meat was shared around the family if needed. Freezers were stocked up like this annually. I wish I had some in mine now, especially the meat of those mountains. It’s all so far removed for most people, including me, as today we mainly buy our meat in shops or maybe a local farm shop (organically produced if we’re lucky). Here at the homestead, we make an effort to buy small amounts of organic meat and hope that it’s what it claims to be. We could eat plenty of pigeons and squirrels, maybe even those deer I mentioned last time if we had to. Salads of young beech leaves, plantain, young yarrow, wild garlic, purple dead nettle, dandelion flowers and leaves, shepherd’s purse and sweet violets would go nicely with that. The other day, I read that you can eat wild hop shoots and that some say they’re the most expensive vegetable in the world. We have them springing up in abundance near the vegetable garden so I went to pick 4 or 5. I carefully shaved off the spiky outer layer on the bines as a lady I follow online has done at Noma. I sauteed them, leaves and stems, in butter with a tiny bit of rice bran oil. They were very delicately flavoured so I think I’ll leave them to grow in future. I guess ‘Wild Hop Shoots’ on a menu sounds exciting! These are mostly spring ingredients and into summer I’m hoping to find more delicious things to add to the repertoire. I’m getting a lot of help from the children too who enjoy cutting small amounts to taste and learn the names of the things we’re harvesting. It’s amazing how empowered a child feels when they’re allowed scissors! They have to be watched and made to understand that they must check with me first before touching anything. We’ll bring the colander in, gently wash off any beasties and chop or leave whole the leaves or stems depending on what we’re thinking of making. A few days ago, it was a yarrow and tender hedge garlic scrambled egg dish my little daughter and I made. I recommend this, it was delicious and great finished with some celery salt. I wonder if I can get the hens to eat some of these plants so we can have extra yummy eggs. I’ll keep you posted on that one. They are inherited old girls and seem to only like their cracked corn, layers pellets and stale rice cakes…for now.
No Ordinary Weekday
As I begin tonight’s post, I look back on what has been another deeply satisfying day on the Homestead. I tended our 8 chickens this morning without incident, checked the vegetable garden was still intact and promised to blow up the children’s paddling pool. I think we’re settling into ‘Lockdown’ life as if everything has been leading up to this. There was a real buzz about our 2.5 acres, particularly in the top meadow as the May wildflowers are at their peak . The air smells cleaner, the birds seem to sing more loudly and there is generally a feeling that our planet is taking a much needed break right now. This is the view from here. The days are never ordinary with so much to get on with- all the while observing these little signs and taking pleasure from them. It is so wonderful to watch the hens enjoy a snoozy sunbathe and to check if any new vegetable seedlings have emerged. My eldest small human planted a broad bean seed just over a week ago in place of one that did not pop up to join the others . There it was today, proudly showing itself strong and promising. I only hope that the small fence made of reclaimed animal hutches, old fence and wire will hold the deer back long enough to get a small harvest later in the summer! It is the first Spring we’ve been here so we’re learning along the way. My aim is to “re-wild” areas of our land to create a haven for mini beasts, children included! I think this is the future. Forming better connections with nature through doing our bit, however large or small. It is amazing how naturally small children seem to take this onboard. They delight in the magic of nature and I intend to enjoy it along with them as they grow. Perhaps in my next post I’ll discuss the ups and downs of washable nappies or discovering that I am capable of scooping up dead rats from the chicken coop or other forms of hilarity. Until then, I hope to wake up in the morning full of excitement for the new day as tomorrow is meant to be very warm. I grew up in America, you see, and the summers felt like they would never end. I’m getting that same old feeling lately as we go day-to-day not knowing how long this time will last. It could turn out to be a very long summer. As long as I can continue to experiment with different wild plants, whether that be eating them, studying them, or using them in the field to soothe nettle stings I’ll be extremely happy with that. That’s my Jam.
This Wild Homestead 