A Spoonful Of Honey...

Takes a while to get....

Did you know that it takes 560 bees their entire life

 just to make a pound of honey?

In our hives we use medium size boxes. The first three boxes are the official "hive"

Here the bees store their honey for winter and raise all the new bees needed to keep the hive alive. Any box above and beyond the three are called supers, a super is where you will find our honey.  After we have inspected the hive and made sure all lower boxes are filled for the coming winter we bring the rest to the house.

Most of our frames were bare when we started out this year.  This means there was no pulled wax for the bees to fill so they had to make their own.  You sacrifice seven pounds of honey for every pound of wax the bees have to make.  In other words we lost a lot of honey because the girls had to set up house.

In spite of this we still managed to bring in two and a half boxes of honey.  We were careful not to crush the comb so the girls can reuse it next year.

(above) the frame has drawn wax, you can see empty comb on the top row.

the rest of the rows of comb are filled with honey and capped. 

Andrews’ job was to slice off the cap, being careful not to squish the comb under it.  (Below) he did a great job. The honey was kept warm by the fire.  It began to flow as soon as the cap was removed.

(below) the cap is being strained for honey too.

If this had been a real documentary, someone would have thought

to take pictures of the inside of the extractor.

Instead it was just sticky, old us trying to snap shots and jar honey.

So you are just going to have to use your imagination.

Basically the frames fit down inside the extractor and it works like the spin cycle on your washing machine. Our extractor is a manual. 

He cranks the handle and the force pulls the honey to the outside edge.

It then runs to the bottom.  In the bottom is a spigot, the honey is drained from there.  I was surprised at how well it worked.  When I hear "manual" I really hear "lots o' work" but it was easy and worked fast.

doesn't he have a great smile?

He said I had ENOUGH pictures....

And then, he really got sick of pictures....

Normally he'd get his mouth slapped for that but today I am pretty confident that if I were to do so, as sticky as I was, my hand would be permanently stuck to his tongue and that would be a tad awkward....

The next step was Grace, who managed to escape all the pictures, 

drains the honey into a bucket and carries it to Beth.

Beth then strains it through cheese cloth to remove 

bee wings, legs, shards of wax and whatever else they left laying around on the frame. (yes ma'am. I said that)

we only got a half gallon of dark out of the whole five gallons!

dark honey for commercial growers isn't as desireable.  It can only be sold as

honey for baking, not table honey and it brings a lower price.

For us it will be used for baking and we are so thankful to have it we really don't care.  The honey pictured is table grade. 

My job, after the jar was full was to wipe it down

(no small feat)  and seal it. 

(below) some of the jars waiting to be hauled to storage.

After that the only thing required is to EAT it!!

Our family goes through between a half gallon and a gallon of honey

every month. So this year we didn't have enough to sell

but next year, if the Lord sends the flowers, 

we will be in business! We are all looking forward to it.

For now the ladies are snuggled safely in

waiting patiently for spring so they can start it all over again.

Taking Dominion.....

When the Lord created Adam, He gave the earth to him with the 

command to subdue and have dominion over it. 

What we learn from scriptures is that Adam, through sin, then turned the earth

over to Satan and things became hard... very hard.

One thing that didn't change, however, was the command of

subduing and taking dominion.

When we moved here three years ago, that command took

on a new meaning in a very physical way.

I love our property.  We have sixty acres, forty of it wooded.....

I love our trees, I love the seclusion.  

Cows, on the other hand, cannot live on trees alone. =) 

Our family has spent the past three years cutting trees, building fences and 

seeding pastures.  Leaving trees to keep our seclusion but 

opening spaces for the cattle to graze.

It is a blessing because the results have been beautiful. Yet, at times it

is exhausting as our task is still far from over.  I once told the boys

"Just think, when your children are born, this will all be clear and they will

have it easy."   To which Drew promptly replies "Na~ah! I'm going to buy 

at least thirty for them to clear just because it'll be good for them!" =)

One day in June, while we were cleaning out the holler next to the house, 

Shane pulled me up the hill saying "Come here, I want to show you something."

As we stood on the hill, he reminded me of a child at Christmas.  Excitedly he 

pointed out a perfect spot for a pond and how the natural curve of the holler 

would give it a beautiful shape. As we talked, the children, one by one, set

down their chainsaw or took off their gloves and joined us on the hill.

That day it was decided ~ we would sell our pontoon boat

 and use the money to build our pond. We mapped out a

place for a dock and possibly a gazebo.  We decided what size john 

boat it would hold and then took the rest of the day off!

I am not sure what made them happier, the thought of growing

 their own catfish or the idea that we no longer had to cut trees in this area.

A dozer would be needed and could make light work where it had been heavy.

Shane hired Charlie.  To explain our relationship with Charlie and his 

little wife Carole would take a complete blog post for itself.

Short to say we love them to pieces!

And Charlie, well, Charlie makes dozer work look easy.

I didn't get anything done while he was here.

Just stood at the fence watching him transform our hillside.

The pond will be deep and steep on the dyke side. 

 More shallow and gradual on the opposite side.

The dyke is wide enough to drive across, 

allowing easier access to the back side of the pasture from the barn.

just take it slow over the spillway.

(above)The opposite side of the pond and the gradual slope. 

I should have taken a picture with someone standing in the bottom.

These pictures do not show the depth or width as it ought.

(Pictured below) the slag piles have been burned

 and thanks to the Autumn rains it is filling.

Filling up and muddy!  We are so excited to start
growing our own catfish and bass next year!
Also, because I can hardly contain myself ~ Shane and I were standing
at the fence looking at the pond
and I said " a pond that pretty requires a weeping willow"
 he answers "Sure, it'll be a great place for snakes to hide."
I punch his arm "I'll take that as a yes, and...." (proceed cautiously here)
 "It could use a Brandywine crab-apple..." silence...
 Shane does NOT like crab-apple trees and I have wanted a
 Brandywine for at least six years or better..
"Well then, woman, you'd better get one ordered."
At first I doubted my ears but then it sunk in and I took that as a yes too!
I ordered one the next day and have kept my mouth shut.
I'm not taking any chances on him changing his mind
after the warm and fuzzy of the moment wore off! =)

 I know it's sinful to wish your life away, but come on April, I can't wait to get that tree planted.
I love the rose shaped flowers!

I'll continue to post pictures as the pond fills and the landscaping takes place!

*disclaimer, the pictures of the Brandywines are not mine..sigh, they were taken by someone else who 
is already blessed to have one and posted pictures on the internet. 
Thank you, whoever you are for helping to feed my addiction....

I looked out the window and

What did I see? Popcorn, and not even from an apricot tree! No, instead it was hanging in the house.... all over the house. Last year we left the popcorn to dry on the stalk (it worked well when we grew it in Idaho) but a monsoon rain came and made all of it mold. This year, in October, as soon as it was ready we walked the rows, plucking ears and hung them in the house to dry.  Cody came home from work and asked if it wasn't a little early to start decorating for Thanksgiving? I almost smacked him, did he really think I would hang five hundred ears of corn in my house for decoration?

 The first step when the ears are dry is to shell the corn.  Our corn sheller is old but works perfectly, the cobs came out clean. Next year however, we will build a box for it. The bowl is just to small to catch it all.

 After it is shelled we need to winnow it. For this a fan was set up outside.

Working in small amounts, we slowly poured the corn from one bowl to another. This allowed the light weight chaff to blow away.

 You can see the chaff on the ground around the bowl.

The kernels are pretty.

and they grind perfectly to make cornbread.

There is no better popcorn than fresh from the cob.

But Zac judges popcorn on how well it flies.....

guess we passed there too!

Across Generations..

When Shane and I were married 22 yrs (really??) ago.  I was blessed with a mother-in-law who was willing to take me under her wing and teach me how to manage a large family.  She had eight children and I was certain I would have twelve so there was MUCH to be learned..

Back then there was no internet.  One could not learn any skill or access any recipe she wanted with the click of a mouse.   No, instead I was given a great gift of many hours spent in her kitchen gleaning as she had done from the generations before her. Little did I know then that our time of tutoring would be so short.  We would lose her to cancer in 1999 with my girls never having known her.

~&~

Through out the summer the girls and I do a lot of canning.  The apple pie filling is always my favorite. This year, as we were placing the last batch of jars in the cooker, Bethany pushed back a strand of hair from her face and looking around exclaimed "This kitchen will never recover from this. I think this is the messiest batch yet!"   The three of us had a good laugh and sat to take a break.    On the table lay the recipe for our pie filling.  Grace leaned over and picked it up... "Momma, your recipe is so old and tattered, you could recopy it you know, and make it look better."  I slowly took it from her, staring at the familiar handwriting, and instantly the tears welled.

For in my hand I held Great Grandma Walters recipe, copied in Grandma Mabel's handwriting and scarred from 22 years of use in my family.  In my hand I held a bridge for several generations of beautiful women that never had the privilege of meeting each other.  The recipe bore my history as well... There was the year I decided 10 cups of water took entirely too long to thicken and changed it to seven, only to find that those gals knew what they were doing and I was left scrubbing thick, sticky goo out of the bottom of my pan... and also the year when I was chasing four tiny boys around my kitchen and somehow in the process I set the recipe too close to the burner, nearly burning it to ashes.... It also held the splatters from years past as the chubby fingers of my little girls now graceful and skilled would handle the card leaving behind smears of love and smudges of memories.

No.. I shook my head.  "Somethings are meant to be kept, Gracie." But looking at it I knew she was right. The writing was fading. The fold tearing apart.
After all, Shell, we are talking about a piece of paper. Come on lady!

So.. today, I took my daughters hands, I told them of the lives of these two women, we walked across that bridge and then we made it our own.

 I now have two cards. A crisp fresh card tucked in the box right next to my old one. Both written by beautiful ladies who share the same middle name.  And just maybe, years from now, if the Lord wills that I should live. I will open my recipe box and as I pull out a tattered old recipe, the one bearing those memories that are yet to come, perhaps my granddaughter will say "Granny, this old card is so tattered why don't you recopy it and make it look better?" After I share with her the history of all the beautiful women of her past, I will reach in my desk drawer, pull out a fresh crisp card and ask her to do just that.

Forget the Needle, Find the Pig

With a pretty good ice storm heading our way, the boys and I spent Wednesday morning strawing the animals.. the pigs made good use of their ration... can you see them?

 

 

 

how about now....

 

 

or now.....

I had to show Gub last... his color gives him away a little more....

all in all I think they gave new meaning to pigs in a blanket! =)



True Womanhood..

"A true wife makes a man's life nobler, stronger, grander, by the omnipotence of her love 'turning all the forces of manhood upward and heavenward.' While she clings to him in holy confidence and loving dependence she brings out in him whatever is nobles and richest in his being. She inspires him with her courage and earnestness. She beautifies his life. She softens whatever is rude and harsh in his habits or his spirit. She clothes him with the gentler graces of refined and cultured manhood. While she yields to him and never disregards his lightest wish, she is really his queen, ruling his whole life and leading him onward and upward in every proper path. -JR Miller

Cookin' Pumpkin...

This is a reprint from Beth and Grace's blog a few years back.  We do things a little different now. like use a blender instead of a potato masher, the family has grown and we have to put up more than we use to, the blender speeds things up a bit. Also, now that we have moved to a longer growing season we have tried other squash. The Georgia Candy is still our favorite! 

Monday, October 12, 2009

Time for Pumpkin Muffins

For Pumpkin muffins we prefer not to use true pumpkin, it is too stringy. This one is a Georgia Candy Roaster, a squash, we were not sure when we bought the seeds if it would grow here because it requires 120 days and that is a little longer than our season allows. But I am glad we tried because it is a sweet and very good tasting squash. Other squash we use are hubbard, banana, or acorn. We grow tons of pumpkins and squash for our livestock so there is always a lot to choose from.

First you need to cut it in half and scrape out all the seeds. Then put it face down on a rimmed baking sheet and bake at 400*  until it is tender.

Once the squash is cooked all the way through the shell will pull off easily.

cut the squash into chunks then use a potato masher until the squash is creamy.

Then you can use it in any recipe that calls for canned pumpkin. If you have left over squash you can freeze it, we usually don't. I will post my recipe for pumpkin muffins as soon as I get a chance. They make the best breakfast on a crisp morning with a mug of spiced cider.

D.O.A.

Yesterday my washer kicked it... I bawled. I HATE buying appliances. they cost too much, never work like promised and never ever, ever last long at our house...


Shane came home, tried to hide his laughter as I bawled and loads me up in the truck headed for Lowes... Soon we meet "The Salesman"..  if there is anything I hate more than buying appliances it is dealing with salesmen.  He was a young kid, full of energy and he started right in with his spill wanting to tell me all the great features that each machine boasts........ I couldn't stand it so two minutes in to his recital ~ I interrupt~

look... I'm short on time and I only care about clean clothes so if you have one that has a

 'hey mom! these coveralls with two day old crusty cow poop on 'em might need washed.. feature'

or a

 ' I've been trimming the feet of and vaccinating rutting goats all day....man that bill is rank! feature'

or even a

 'Mom!  104* is sure hot to be putting up fence,  do you think you can get the B.O. outta my shirt? feature'.........

Then I'll take it, other wise you might just have to step back and let me look!" 


the way the salesman  paused made me hopeful that they might have my dream machine but as Shane gently cleared his throat and indicated I was being a little harsh ~I realized that my salesman was simply trying to keep his lunch down.....

Shane asks "What is the best value for the money?" I roll my eyes... the best value is me and a rock on the river bank but then again I bet I could even wear out a rock...  it was enough, however, for the salesman to regain his footing and off he leads to find my washer.

We settled on a whirlpool.... I think.  We brought that bad boy home and the very first load it flashes a little light "sensing"...... I stood there flustered "WHAT IS SENSING????" apparently it is like "getting in touch with your inner self" for washing machines.  It takes a whole five minutes to determine if the load is distributed correctly and adjust it if necessary. I'm not impressed.... "Honey, there had better be a way to turn off your little yoga session or this is going to be a strained relationship...NOBODY gets a five minute break around here before they even start working!"

So today I am taking my owners manual with me while the children are at the dentist, we can both be tortured at the same time. But I also, think I will start taking bets... My last washer was purchased  March 13th 2010  after I washed a pocket full of BB's and tore up the older one beyond repair.  So I made it two and a half years this time.... Here is how it will work, each participant kicks in $5 and guesses the date I will have to replace this new washing machine. The one who is closest to the date wins!! And the best part is, the lucky winner will have the privilege of donating all his winnings to me and my quest..... the quest for the long lasting washing machine.=).... if only energizer would build one...

Song of The South

Have you ever wondered how cotton grew.... I have. I know, I have way too much time on my hands. I planted several experimental crops this year to see what would grow and how well it would do. Cotton was one of them. I didn't know this until it was already planted right in the middle of my garden but cotton can be grown as a perennial. Mine will only be an annual this year, because the cows are going to get it. Now before I share my pictures of growing cotton with you here is the disclaimer... * you are not allowed to look at the weeds in the picture. It is a sad, sad day when a body decides due to the drought, she will let the weeds grow in her garden and when she is done she can turn the cows in and they will actually have a few days of green feed. It's pathetic if you ask me but it is what this year has reduced us to.

 Cotton Plant

 Cotton Blossom

 Bee doing all the work

Cotton Boll, when this is dry it will open up and expose the cotton, I will post that picture then.

For I Know....

When we moved to our home in Archer Idaho, Grace was six months old.  The old farm house was severely neglected and required a lot of work on our part. Grace, because of her age, never saw this.  The garden, fruit trees and berry patches grew up around her as she learned to walk and run and climb.  She never saw the fields weedy and grown over because by the time she could see over the window sills we had dug ditches for irrigation and  had animals that kept the pastures trim and neat. She was never part of hauling 5 gallon buckets of weeds out of our garden, by the time she understood weeds we had all but a few annoying handfuls under control. She enjoyed the fire pit but didn't understand the labor that went into hauling rocks and leveling ground that produced the pit.  To put it in a nutshell, she took our farm for granted because it was all she had ever known.

I guess I don't need to say that our move to Missouri put my little blond bombshell into shock.  While her brothers and older sister rejoiced that there was no lawn to mow and ran through the trees discovering all the wild critters (mostly ticks) that only Missouri can grow...little Grace, stood wide eyed and wondered how we would ever survive without raspberry jam and strawberries, huckleberries and apples... a chicken coop or a milk stand. She had entered the desert place. Her dismay grew when we planted a garden and it failed because momma had not yet mastered Missouri dirt. As I planted our garden a second time she made vocal her fears..."We should have brought dirt with us, and probably Mrs. Howell (our neighbor in Idaho) too."

I tried to help her adjust. When the blueberries were ripe on a neighboring farm, I loaded her and Beth up and went down to pick  a few gallons. She raised an eyebrow as I paid the lady at the farm~ we were always the ones who were paid for our berries not the other way around, but she smiled as we laid them on cookie sheets and froze them for the coming winter. When the blackberries were ripe we headed out to our fields with buckets in tow. I tried to comfort her with the verse in Deuteronomy where God allows us to eat from vineyards and olive trees we did not plant and  I explained how God was taking care of us by planting wild blackberries and grapes for us to enjoy. Her dissatisfaction was evident as she replied. "Well, I wish He would 'o talked to me first cuz I'd a told Him to plant the kind without pokies!"

As spring approaches, and with it, the arrival of our orders of fruit trees, berry bushes and bees. I smile. My daughter is entering into the land of plenty. Her days of being down in the valley are coming to a close.  I have already witnessed her joy in gathering the first eggs here. As she squealed with delight and compared the different colors of the eggs, I think back to the summer before we left Idaho when gathering eggs was a "chore" instead of a privilege. I catch her stretching out and giving a contented sigh as she lays in front of the fire with her reading lessons. I listen to her remind me of how hot it was the day we picked blueberries as she sits down to a bowl of them swimming in sugar and cream from her favorite cow, Buttermilk.  I smile because my daughter is also entering into the land of work... she will help us dig holes and pull weeds until our fingers are sore. She will groan about the heat and the bugs. She will know that life is not handed to us but available if we should choose to pursue it.  And she will go after it because she knows the reward that is waiting and will no longer take it for granted.  THAT is living.

So too it is with our walk as a Christian, if it were not for the valleys, the mountain tops would have no joy. If it were not for the valleys, the mountain tops themselves would become work. Our Father, in His loving wisdom,  allows us to walk through valleys. But he does not send us alone nor does he leave us destitute. Behind the thorns, we will find the sweet berries. In the chores we will find joy. And when we think we can go no further He will lift us up and we will breath deep of that crisp mountain air.  We must praise Him whether the path is low or high because in the mixture of both we will find the definition of living.....

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, 

thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.

Enter into His Gates with Thanksgiving

My new home is little... for months on end that has been the only word that I have found to describe it, and as unintentional as it was I had become like the stiff necked Jews when the Lord led them from Egypt into the promised land. Ungrateful..

Oh, I never out and out griped about my little house but I always found myself saying things like "The girls and I are use to having miles of counter top...bumping elbows while we cook is something new for us." Or how about this one.. "I had three living rooms at our old house" as the visitor steps around a lego city that was constructed in my only (gasp) living room. Ah yes, pride glorious pride....

Sigh... I don't know sometimes why the Lord puts up with me. Lately, however, I have felt something change inside. I feel that peace... I love that peace.

The menfolk are in Idaho. Andrew drew a ram tag before we left so they are there seeing if they can't fill it, that and bringing me back IDAHO potatoes, since these things hauled in from Maine are proving unfit to eat. :)

While they hunt the girls and I always have a list of domestic duties we want to get accomplished. Usually canning, sewing, decorating and such. The list always includes window washing as well. Going into winter we need to allow as much light into the home as possible. This year the task (one of my least favorite) was finished inside and out in less than two hours...unheard of, normally it would have taken all day and an entire bottle of Tylenol!! The girls and I spent the rest of the day playing on the deer trails in our wooded pastures and picking nuts.. As I tucked myself in bed later that night I was praising God for the wonderful day we had spent and it was only then that I realized... I was praising him for my little house.
My little house sits back in the woods of our property, I can see no other house around or see the cars that may travel down our dirt road. Today I went out and milked my cow in my p.j.'s and no one knew. I buried my face in the side of my cow and breathed deep of sweet grass and leather as I rejoiced at being completely alone. Life is good. My little house has hardwood floors (what I have always wanted), a wood burning stove to keep it toasty warm, a library for our books, three bedrooms and two bathrooms.

I am blessed indeed.

Oh, don't mistake me for perfect. I still have a honey do list that includes new cabinets and wainscoting and ~oh don't get me started~ BUT, I am finally at home in my llittle home and I am grateful in my heart that God, as always, is good.

By Faith

Where reason cannot wade there faith may swim.

—Thomas Watson


I have often wondered why life can be such a challenge.. Why the life the Lord leads us through can seem so eccentric, muddled, and scattered. I never ever get something right the first time. I always do things the hard way. It can be so frustrating yet, I know that it is not I but HE who orchestrates the affairs of man so if I am to be honest, I am not frustrated with the situation but with my Saviour.

How ungrateful can I be? That the one who gave his all for and to me should frustrate me so. I am spoiled. The past week I feel as if we are walking in mud.. Missouri mud, the kind that sticks to your shoes and the more you walk the more it sticks until your legs are heavy and hard to lift. I have so quickly forgotten the blessing of last week when our house in Idaho closed while others have sat with homes they cannot afford on the market for months upon months and I am free. Free to fuss because our power upgrade for the shop cost us six hundred dollars. Free to fuss because I have my heart set on an additional tract of land that I would like to purchase but the owner has completely vanished. Free to fuss because I am running six different directions on any given day. Life is scattered but I am free. If I but live by faith instead of by fuss I would find that things go better than I could ever imagine.
Many nights ago Shane was able to get in touch with the son of Mick, who owns the land next to ours. When Shane told the son that we were looking to purchase it he laughed and said he didn't think his dad was interested in selling but gave us Micky's number and said we could try. I'll be honest my guts were tied in knots but I said " It doesn't matter, it isn't up to him...It isn't even up to Mick...it's up to God." For days on end we called that number but he would not answer. One night out of the blue we received a call from Mick. He stated that he had missed a call from us. When Shane explained what we were calling for, Mick immediately said he would sell. The next week we closed. At the closing Mick said that he never had any intention on selling that land but at the moment he and Shane spoke he knew that he was to sell it to us. His words that followed make my heart sing. "I don't know why I all the sudden got the urge to change my mind but I guess it was just time for me to let it go."
I know why, because of a loving Saviour who cares for me more than I will ever understand.

By Him all things were made....

Lunar Moth

Regal Walnut Moth