donkey therapy

I wonder what Rafer Johnson and Redford would think of this!

Labor Day weekend chore warrior

Hurricane Hermine brought us needed rain but that also meant I couldn't get to my porch project until Sunday when things had dried out completely, so once again I didn't get as much done as I had planned. But we definitely made progress.

The porch screen doors are done! I love how they look with the new door pulls instead of the latch, and the effect of the soft white milk paint is exactly what I wanted.

I also treated our front door with pure tung oil, also purchased from the Real Milk Paint company. It is a delight to work with and although they recommend using it in a ventilated area, the odor is a very nice nutty smell that isn't strong at all. They recommend 4-6 treatments of tung oil for full waterproofing in an outdoor area. Since the porch is covered I'm going to do 3 more over the next 3 weekends. But even this first coat has made a huge difference in the door. I should have taken a before photo but forgot to do so! The wood was dry and a very light brown in areas. It looks really good now. The light strips along the two panels aren't really as light as they look in this photo. I also treated the wooden door jamb. I was tempted to come in and do the wood floors - maybe a future project. 

I also washed down the "not sure if it needs painting or not" white areas of the porch with a white vinegar and water solution and there is really no need for painting any of it at this time, thank goodness!

There are now three big screens, a support beam, and one smaller triangular screen left to go. After that it's on to the cat tunnel and front porch steps. 

Hope everyone had a happy long weekend!

Back to California: UC-Santa Barbara

By the time we got to UC-Santa Barbara the campus had emptied out. There wasn't a soul to be found in the locked-up physics department, but at least we were able to see the campus. It's a drive from the city of Santa Barbara proper, which I was torn about liking or not liking. Some campuses feel removed from the towns in good ways and others integrate seamlessly into the town in which they live. I didn't get a good sense of this with UC-Santa Barbara, probably because we took the freeway to get there. 

This was the walk into campus from the parking area.

I loved this tree arching over the walkway. The campus was generally very open and bright and these little shady nooks were welcome respites from that brightness.

This image is more representative of the larger campus. I loved the patterns the light/shadow made on the ground, almost disconcerting to someone no longer used to walking around in the vicinity of palm trees!

Another example of the palm tree pattern. 

My absolute favorite part of the campus was the view from the library. In the building, there were elevators on each side, one set called Ocean, the other Mountain. And you can see why:

After living on the southeastern part of the US many years of my life I am used to ocean and mountains being completely apart. Having them both together still makes me smile. 

These photos were literally taken from either end of a big open area upstairs in the library. Through one end you see the mountains and the other the ocean. It was quite lovely, almost like paintings.

Back out to the campus and the very deserted physics building:

I liked the leaning tree.

This part of campus was very nice too, with these very distinctive trees. 

In the distance to the right you can spot my son walking ahead. I often ended up far behind him, between his long-legged stride and my own penchant for stopping to take photographs.

I stood with this tree for quite a while. I loved the root system. The long roots in front reminded me of a cat crossing its paws. 

Generally, although I lived in California for several years, I'm not really a California girl at heart. I miss the lush green of North Carolina, and the very distinct seasons that for me have always been marked by the changing of the trees themselves. I think that may be why I'm so drawn to trees in California. 

I wish we'd been able to see the physics department inside, to get a better flavor of the academics here. But this week I'll post two more UC-Santa Barbara posts that reveal a couple of the things I really loved about our visit. 

November Hill farm journal, 18

This week my daughter and I spotted the first V of geese flying south, and my husband brought in the first ripe wild muscadines. Yesterday and last night Hermine blew through. We got a couple of inches of needed rain and temperatures in the mid-sixties with a cool breeze that felt wonderful.

Today the horses are turned out now that the rain has passed. All of these things, geese flying, wild muscadines, hurricanes blowing about, are signs of the season I love best and for which our farm is named. 

November is the peak of color and delight here. It was the season we moved in and it remains the season when, for me, everything shines.

And it matches my favorite poem in all the world.

"Wild Geese," by Wendell Berry from Collected Poems 1957-1982 (North Point Press).

The Wild Geese

Horseback on Sunday morning,
harvest over, we taste persimmon
and wild grape, sharp sweet
of summer's end. In time's maze 
over fall fields, we name names
that went west from here, names
that rest on graves. We open
a persimmon seed to find the tree
that stands in promise,
pale, in the seed's marrow.
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear,
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye
clear. What we need is here.

I love the last lines best. The wild muscadines are especially sweet this year.

November Hill kitchen, 1

Recipes on camera-obscura?

Not really. But since I'm on an extended hiatus from Facebook I need somewhere to document the food stuff that happens in our modest little kitchen.

We eat good food here, most of the time. The best meals for me are the ones that are as close to 100% local as possible, and even better are the ones that are close to 100% November Hill produce.

I often share the local and home-grown meals on FB, sometimes with a photo, so here we go:

I'm in a "clear the cupboards and freezer" mode right now. The summer garden is mostly done and now we have a few fall plantings underway (sweet potatoes, garlic for next spring). Once the heat breaks for good we'll add a fall planting of greens. 

In these interim weeks we've been trying to base meals around the things that need to be used up. I love cooking from our garden, but I also really enjoy the challenge of taking a few scattered items and creating a meal out of them. This comes directly from my dad, who, during all of my childhood and teen years, got home from work earlier than my mom did, so he made our dinners.

His specialty was coming up with "on the fly" meals - good ones, but he loved bargains and would often stop by the small-town grocery store on his way home and pick up a few things that were on sale, combine that with something we already had, and end up with something unique and delicious. He never used a recipe. I think I must have soaked that in without even knowing it.

Last night I found a package of frozen Brussel sprouts that screamed to be eaten. I also found a quarter package of bulk hot bulk sausage from our favorite local meat producer. (Who is also our hay grower, and his farming practices are organic and humane and sustainable; his meats have been called the cleanest in Chatham County). Then I realized we had fresh mushrooms that needed using. These weren't local. The idea formed - brown the sausage, add the mushrooms, then the Brussel sprouts. 

And then I looked in the cupboard and found a quarter package of instant Miso soup mix and a little bag of millet. I put the millet on, added the Miso mix, and when all was said and done the meal, served in bowls, was the Brussel sprout/sausage/mushroom mixture over the Miso millet. It was yummy. It was easy. It was aesthetically pleasing in hand-thrown blue bowls (found for a dollar at the thrift store years back). And it was about 50% local. I'll make it again, if I have the ingredients on hand.

That's the beauty and sometimes the sadness of this kind of cooking. When you put things together based on little bits and pieces you have on hand it isn't always easy to recreate the meals later! But that makes them special. And I keep on doing it.