Outside my bedroom window is this view.
Doesn’t that just make you want to go wild, like I don’t know, run in disorder through the tidy fields scattering wild flower seed and dancing maniacally, twisting and tangling all the straight rows! All legs and hair! A man once described me as all legs and hair. I was out with his friend the night before and he asked my friend, “Who were you with last night? That woman. All legs and hair.”
I strained the yoghurt yesterday morning and there was so much of it. Thick and good. The whole farmy got their yoghurt fix yesterday. Especially the chickens and the pigs.
The Matriarch found these pint and a half jars for me in Missouri. I am smitten. I adore putting things into things. And putting fresh home made yoghurt made from my own milk into these lovely jars fits the bill perfectly.
The lanky teenager said to me. “We are up to our heads in eggs.”
“Hmm.” I said wondering where this was going.
“Can we have devilled eggs?” he said. “Sure” I said.
Two hours later after watching a movie he comes out to the barn and said “Did you make those devilled eggs?”.
“No honey,” I said, “you will”.
“I don’t know how.” he said.
Well that is no problem. So after I had taught him how to steam and peel an egg (he is 18) . He looked up a recipe on the internet, (not just for games you know), we made a few changes to suit his tastes, he got to work and was kind enough to let me take a shot before he devoured them. They are made with mayo, fresh yoghurt, lemon juice, garlic and pepper and salt. We decided to start simple. Admittedly the spinach boats were my idea, pretty is not on his list when it comes to food. Which is fair.
“Can I make these every day?” he said. Maybe we will learn another recipe tomorrow I thought. Teaching kids to cook. Good.
The dogs were loafing in circles waiting, wishing they could jam that camera right down my throat so they could finally get on with their evening walk! But the empty peach tree leaves looked so pretty in that light .
Good morning. We also made raw butter yesterday. The teenagers churned the cream as they lay about in the hot part of the afternoon. I was thrilled at how much butter came through. Lovely heavy yellow butter. Soon we will barely need to go to the supermarket at all this summer.
This morning after chores TonTon and I will pick up The matriarch and go over to visit the Old Codger. She wants to take him some cookies as he turned 93 the day before yesterday. The staff there are frantically trying to get him stable on his feet before he bolts. They need him to be safe and he needs to get home. Both wishes are entirely valid. But like many wishes they will not dovetail tidily like the floor of a bean field. Life is often messy with wild flowers growing where they shouldn’t.
Have a lovely muddle of a day!