Wishful Thinking

This morning I had great plans to clean my house (which hasn't been cleaned since a week before harvest started) and to bake this chocolate banana bread with the rotting bananas in my kitchen. Instead, I slept until 11:00 and now have to rush out to the farm to continue doing payroll.

Ah well. Maybe tomorrow :).

Why I've Been Gone

19 Hour Days for the last week... working with these: (will try to get better pictures up later...)



Now starts the paperwork for payroll (for 300 pickers and 40 crew members), and then hay harvest!

Working Break...

Harvest begins this weekend. Pray for us!!

As such, I won't be blogging for a while.

Two Signs Summer is Near

Everyone is seeking shade...


And homemade ice cream is being made...

(*not my picture, we ate ours too fast... but this is just what it looked like!)

Just like two peas...

This was a monumental week for me. I feel as though I went through a rite of passage. I have (again) been initiated into the ways of country living.

I shelled peas.

Not just any peas. These were homegrown.

And there was much feasting.

(These pictures are just a tiny sampling. I was shelling for hours.)

And speaking of two peas in a pod...

(my sister-in-law and nephew)

Your Carpet is Moving

My sister-in-law was visiting last week and discovered our dirty little secret. Yes, dear friends, we have ants. Lots of them. I daresay there are millions of them (okay, okay, give or take a few).

At first there were a few on the kitchen counter and I said, "well, it's okay so long as there are no more." There were more. Then I said, "it's okay, so long as they don't get into the cupboard." As they say, you can catch more ants with honey... "Well, it's okay so long as they stay out of the garbage can." They like the rubbery pork a lot more than we did. "Well, it's okay so long as they don't move into other parts of the house." I've now lost all shame of showering in front of the ants who have invaded the bathroom. "Well, at least they're not in the carpet."

That's when it happened. My sister-in-law said, "Um, your carpet is moving." Sure enough, when one looked down, a sea of tiny little black ants were following the Ho Chi Minh Trail through the labyrinth of rug yarns in the living room.

A few of our unwelcomed ants

Why am I so tolerant of the little guys? Well, we've laid out traps, we've sprayed, we've even drawn a chalk line (supposedly they will not walk on chalk, but I'll tell you what... they crossed the line!). I keep saying "well" because the only alternative is to have the whole house fumigated. That means packing up everything in the house and moving away for a few days, all for a bunch of stinky ants who don't bite.

Well, it's okay so long as they don't get into my closet.

Litte Pig, Little Pig, GO AWAY

I've discovered that no matter how you try to mask leftover tough pork roast in "exciting" "exotic" or "delightful" recipes, it still tastes like leftover tough pork roast. We've been working on this one for over a week. First there were the pork tacos, then the pulled pork bbq sandwiches (but considering that it was so tough, it wouldn't "pull"), crispy asian pork with asparagus, the "ham" omelet, then pork tamale pie. Each of them tasted wonderful except for the chunks of rubber. There's still 1/5 of a roast left... I wonder why suddenly I feel like chicken tonight.

Feeding His Flock

Faith in Action: This morning after Mass, my husband and I were talking with some friends and milling around the donuts being sold by the Boy Scouts. We had been in a rush (as always) to get to Mass and only packed the tithing money, so neither of us had any cash for the gooey delights. Our pastor, noticing our empty hands said, "You want a donut?" Without ceremony he opened his wallet, tossed several dollars in the pot and said, "there you go."

My Bouquet

I used to dream of getting a bouquet of flowers from my husband, but he's far surpassed my romantic dreams and brought me this... fresh from the garden:

But Gardening is Gross!

Today's my day off. I'm considering planting some tomato plants because I'd like to try my hand at canning the little guys. I've had the tomatoes sitting in their original black containers for about three weeks and often forget to water them. Everytime I go to plant them, I wonder if I'll dig up a slimy worm and then I rationalize, "The soil is probably too wet. I'll do it later."

My husband has threatened to relocate them many times into the big garden (because I'm killing them softly) but I want to plant them in my little plot. Alas, gardening is so much more romantic to think about than to do...