My friend Celia, from Fig Lime and Cordial, sent me a sourdough starter from Australia a while ago that has been languishing in the belly of the fridge until I ceased my globe trotting.. (not quite ceased but never mind). Yesterday, stuck inside with snowstorm outside, I started the starter up. Her name is Priscilla and Celia has asked all the recipients of her sourdough to rename their sourdough starters with a reference to the mother – Priscilla so I called mine Bob – Bobsilla (kind of like Priscilla do you think?). She has very generously sent these starters out all over the world.
Anyway young Bob is now wildly busy and active so last night I began to make some bread.(The black dress diet is officially over “Thanks Gods” as my German Godmother would say). As a great kindness to me and my other sourdoughly challenged friends – Celia posted the simplest of bread recipes on her site – with pictures, I have always had trouble with my sourdough breads sadly resembling depressed hard cowpats. It took the chickens DAYS to even peck through the crust. I could have used them as water bowls. I needed pictures. So this morning I am in the last stages of making a good loaf of bread.
Soft and still, the wet heavy snow slowly built up to about six inches, it was above freezing most of the day so there were incidents of whole avalanches of wet snow sliding off the roof with solid Thwumps which set Ton to barking thinking we were being gently bombed by an apologetic army on the roof.
The closed ashphalt plant.
I love this beautiful old broken down service station that was a restaurant about 70 years ago. I really want to buy this place. Really. Really. It is called Three Mile Corner being three miles out of town. I know I need to save for a truck first. Though I have a feeling this plot might be cheaper.
Local farms all tucked in on a sluchy snowy salty day. The roads are salted frequently so that they do not ice up.
And into town.
Later, back at the farmy, just about chores time, of course, the wind wooshed around to the North, the temperature plummeted as the wind picked up and the snow became Driven. Driven snow in the eyes hurts. The temperature continued to drop so fast my ears were popping.
The barn suddenly became noisier, manic. Early to bed tonight, I said to the pigs. No walkies. Poppy and Sheila were fighting, after being inside all day, scrapping like naughty children. At one point I got so sick of Poppy screeching that I used my teachers stern voice, raised it above the clamour and told her – “Stop that Immediately, Poppy, I cannot hear myself THINK. Share your hay!.” Mid battle both pigs went silent and slowly turned their great piggie heads towards me in surprise. Blinking. I heard the kunes wheel and scuttle quickly, on short legs, bottoms wagging, towards their own pen.
Hmm, I thought.
Thank you, I said.
I turned back to making their dinners. Chopped vegetables, fruit, eggs, yoghurt, warm soaked alfafa cubes. Godot flew down from his three story perch, landing behind me. Silent. A good boy.
Dinner? He breathed.
Of course, Godot, I said, I have been waiting for you.
Sheila snorted in a most unladylike fashion.
Good morning. Today I am going to order the next aquisition in my chicken enterprise- an incubator for hens and peacocks eggs. (I will grow all the chickens for my own freezers and hatch the next laying flock from the farm this year) You will remember that we have these two big beautiful new roosters. I have never had an incubator before so if you know anything about them I would be grateful for the information. I will be getting one that I manually turn, the mechanised ones are astronomically expensive.
When the sun rises it will be interesting to see what this wind did to all that snow.
I hope you have a lovely day.
Your friend on the farm