Thank You

Today, our huge family of three celebrated Thanksgiving together with old friends. Well, they were not so old. All were very good friends.

Every holiday, especially Thanksgiving, amazes me by the effort put into making food and the speed with it is dispatched. Even more now. I'll tell you why.

Turkey and Gravy. A year ago last April, our local postmaster telephoned us to announce the arrival of a box of turkey poults, including this year's Thanksgiving turkey and 19 adoptive siblings. We got to know the tiny fellows pretty well over the next 5 1/2 months, as they grew into irritating adults who demanded our help putting them to bed each night while they pecked at anything shiny. Then came a day I've already blogged about and a deep sleep in the freezer. See http://whoisvirginia.blogspot.com/search/label/Turkeys. Today, a few hours in the oven provided our main course and gravy.

Mashed Potatoes. St. Patrick's Day is the prime day for planting potatoes around here. As I recall, a nice rain postponed this year's planting to March 21. Now, growing potatoes isn't just a waiting game. They require weeding now and then, hoeing into hills, and several weeks handpicking Colorado potato beetle larvae during my early morning rounds. Digging them isn't easy, but it's sort of like panning for gold.

Corn. This year our first planting of corn went into the field garden at the end of April. The promise of 130 dozen sprouts proved illusory, dwindled to 5 dozen ears by summer drought. Series of smaller plantings in the garden beds, where I could keep them watered, saved the season. Then came picking, husking, cutting off the kernels, freezing or canning.

Stuffing. Karen used home-made bread for our stuffing this year. Some of the wheat berries and flour came from winter wheat planted either last fall or the year before.

Pumpkin pie. Not really pumpkin, this year's pie came from frozen Georgia Candy Roaster squash we grew last summer. The squash were monsters, relatively easy to put away because we could slice them in half, remove the seeds and pulp, cook them cut side down on cookie sheets, whirl them up in a food processor, and stuff them in freezer bags.

Whipping cream for the pie. Not really whipping cream, goat milk and free-range eggs served as the base for home-made ice cream churned on the patio this afternoon.

"I guess you're saying it took almost two years to prepare this dinner?" says Virginia.

And fifteen minutes to eat it.

More LocalMore

I understand the giant banks have nixed their plans to impose $5 monthly fees on debit cards.

"Why?" says Virginia. "Because so many customers complained?"

Maybe, but I don't think it was just the talk. More likely, it was because so many customers put their money where their mouths were, and moved their accounts to smaller, more local banks. See my blog posting for October 5, "Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is -- LocalMore" at whoisvirginia.blogspot.com/2011/10/put-your-money-where-your-mouth-is.html. I wish I could say that my posting made a difference, but I can't. Hardly anyone reads this blog.

Now what? LocalMore. My brother-in-law, the former editor of a small town newspaper and now the creator of a successful on-line small town newspaper (The Bluffton Icon), many years ago made a point of encouraging readers to buy local. This was long before the "Buy Local" food movement. He thought it made sense for people to support their own townsfolk, especially the ones who offered products and services in downtown stores, rather than tripping off to Lima or Findlay or even farther to Toledo or Columbus. (And it probably helped sell ads for the newspaper.)

That's what I mean by LocalMore. It makes sense to buy things made near us, by people we know. Among other things, those items then don't need to be shipped hundreds or thousands of miles, back and forth, to fill our orders.

"But we don't know what's made nearby," says Virginia.

That's probably true, in large part. So we should find out. It's taken a lot of work for folks to coordinate the sale of food grown nearby (LocalVore). After all, it's often inefficient to drive here for a gallon of milk, there for a cabbage, and yon for a basket of strawberries. So someone has to accept the challenge of setting up a farmers' market or local food store. The same cooperation is necessary to pull together other products made locally.

"So are you going to do it?" says Virginia.

Well, um, I'm so busy as it is.

"Yea, right," she says. "That's what they all say. So the banks get bigger and bigger until they're too big to fail."

Backyard Grocery

The rooster that simmered for several hours in our oven this afternoon offered very little meat to three young men, Karen and me, which is fine for me, perhaps disappointing for them.  A plateful of vegetables is enough to make me smile.

Soon it may be time to post the "Fresh Vegetables" sign on Elk Cliff Farm. 

"Save money on paint," says Virginia, "'Vegetables' will do the trick.  Of course they're fresh."

• Some tomatoes have turned red.  
• I always miss a few cucumbers when I look for "future pickles of America."  
• The garlic is about ready to be pulled out, dried and braided.  
• We should eat potatoes every day so they don't sprout in the basement this Fall.
• It's about time to surrender beets to winemaking.
• The next planting of green beans is blossoming, so maybe two will overlap and swamp us.
• Twelve varieties of lettuce are bitter and bolting, save one and the summer crop that's growing under an ash tree.
• We need to get more olive oil to make pesto from parsley, basil, oregano, garlic and home-made cheese.
• The broccolis are forming little heads again, while the cabbages have become downright arrogant (big-headed).
• The straw of winter wheat waits to be pulled and replaced with corn, beans and other things.
• We might have enough carrots for wine.
• It may be time to dig a root cellar for onions and others.

"You forgot something," says Virginia.

I covered everything from "a" to -- oh, zucchini, in a few days we'll have some.  I noticed two dark blackberries today, grapes getting fat, and tasty nasturtiums shriveling.

Gotta keep planting the grocery store.