Snow Day and homemade pasta

It's early morning on a Monday here, and we are snowed in.  Flakes are still falling fast and heavy, and from the looks of it through my window we've gotten at least 9 inches of it since yesterday afternoon.  I worked on Saturday night, beat my way through a horrendously understaffed and chaotic shift, and fretted about the weather all night long.  An extra set of clothes was packed in my car, in case the roads were too dangerous for me to get home.  Luckily the storm parked itself over DC for awhile, delaying its arrival to our area by several hours. 

I left the hospital by 7:45am, and as I drove I saw a large flock of geese flying in a dark V in the grey sky... headed northward.  I pulled over, rolled down my window, and listened to them honk as they flew overhead.  Joni Mitchell sang in my head, "...the warriors of winter give a cold triumphant shout... as all that stays is dying, and all that lives is getting out... see the geese in chevron flight, racing and flapping on before the snow... they've got the urge for going, they've got the wings to go."  I shivered, turned up the heat and continued on my way.   I was home, essential groceries (milk, onions, salad greens) and super fancy coffee drinks from Starbucks (rare treat!) in hand, before the first flurry fell. 

Our plans for this Sunday had been to visit Honeybunch's family, but the storm made that journey unwise for us, and we unfortunately had to reschedule.  Instead, Honeybunch and I decided to spend an evening trying out my Christmas present.  He'd gotten me an Omega juicer, which happens to be an extremely impressive piece of machinery that can not only juice fruits and veggies, but can make nut butters and pasta, grind grains and coffee beans, and act as a food processor.  I mashed together some semolina, whole wheat flour, eggs, and water until it held together in a ball, then passed the dough through the machine to knead it.  I oohed and aahed at how the dough morphed from a sticky, sandy clump to a smooth, elastic ball in just one pass through the machine. 

After wrapping the dough in plastic wrap and letting it rest to allow the gluten to stretch, we fed it through the machine and marveled at how the wads of dough transformed into long, delicate strands of pasta.  Honeybunch is in the process of building me a spiral-style pasta drying rack, but in the meantime we draped tea towels over plastic hangers, strung the pasta up on those and have them hanging from the curtain rods.  It took some practice before we got a hang of how fast to feed the dough into the machine, when to use the "off" button, what length to trim the noodles at, and how to drape them across the hangers without stretching the noodles and causing them to break.  But by the end of it, we had a feel for the process and expect it to become even easier with more practice.

We cooked some of the noodles fresh, and enjoyed a simple meal of noodles with butter and Parmesan cheese.  I was delighted with the texture and flavor.  We currently have about four hangers worth of the pasta drying, and I look forward to seeing if the dried product is superior to store-bought pasta as well.  If it is, I suspect that we'll be making quite a bit more of the stuff very soon.  Pasta is definitely wintertime food for us, and it's feeling more and more like winter every minute here.

Merry Christmas Eve!

I received an early Christmas present today... after a hellish shift last night at work, my supervisor asked if I'd like to be cancelled for my scheduled 7-11pm shift tonight.  I said heck yes!  So instead of being at work right now, I am watching Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer in my PJs, drinking spiced mead, and burning a bayberry candle to for socket for luck.  Cookies are out on the kitchen table, wrapped presents lie beneath our brightly lit dwarf pomegranate tree.  I am happy, and full of holiday cheer. 

I hope that you are all as cozy and content as we are here.  Merry Christmas!!

Solstice Eclipse

Last night my Honeybunch and I observed the total lunar eclipse from our backyard.  It was gorgeous.  It looked like a darker eclipse than the last one two years ago.  We got the extra treat of seeing a meteor streak slowly across the southern sky.  Beautiful.  It was too cold to sit outside and watch the transition from start to finish, so we bundled up and went out every twenty minutes or so to observe the changes.  What an amazing thing, to see the moon cycle through all of its phases in one night. 

It is now officially winter, which means one thing to me: the days are getting longer, and Spring is getting closer. 

Best Buy Gift Card Giveaway at FarmGirl Fare

Farmgirl Fare, one of my favorite blogs to browse when I'm in the need of some cute donkeys, is giving away a Best Buy Gift Card sponsored by BlogHer.  The contest ends on 12/22, so enter now!

http://www.farmgirlfare.com/2010/11/review-giveaway-turbo-boosting-my-slow.html

ACLS

I'm signed up to take the "new provider" course for ACLS (Advanced Cardiovascular Life Support) in January at work.  We're required to be certified within a year of employment, and that milestone is fast approaching for me.  I'm reading the manual, using the accompanying student CD-ROM, and remembering what it feels like to study.  It's been a long time since I last took a test.  It's a bit nerve-wracking, really.

I intend to go back to school, complete my BSN, and go on to obtain my Master's degree as a Nurse Midwife/Women's Health Nurse Practitioner.  These goals are in the back of my mind, always nagging just a bit... but that driving ambition has quieted down a bit, now that I'm earning a living wage with an associate's degree, planning a wedding, and looking to buy some land.  Continuing my education has been put on the back burner, for now. 

I know that some people say that once you've taken a few years off, you'll never go back to school.  I don't believe that.  What motivates me most is boredom, or a sense of stagnancy.  Already I'm feeling a bit bored with my current job.  My new role as a preceptor has been helping with that, as I love to teach.  But how long will that last?  I'm not too eager to jump ship just yet... I do feel something of a sense of loyalty to my current employer.  I've been with them for over four years, first as a phlebotomist and then as a nurse.  At the very least I know I'll be there for a few more months, as the one year mark is sort of the magic number for a new nurse, and I want to be ACLS certified when I submit my applications at other hospitals.  But I'd be content to stay there if a position would open up somewhere else in the hospital, something that would present me with new challenges.

If not, I may go back to school sooner than expected.  If I'm to stay in a position that will soon be old hat for me, then I'll feel an absolute need to challenge myself in some other way.  But I sure do hate the idea of adding to my student loan debt!!!

Baked Goods Swap

We had a wonderful time at the baked goods swap the other night.  I got to take home some of Rosie's almond and honey stuffed pizzelles, some of Heather's homemade pumpkin bread and pumpkin cookies with caramel frosting, Sara's grandma's fudge, and Sarah's snickerdoodles.  In addition, I got to spend a wonderful evening talking, laughing and dining with friends.

I decided to make Mexican Wedding Cakes and Almond Cloud cookies.  The Mexican Wedding Cakes were a favorite of my dad's... my mom would make them for him every year, individually wrapped in red foil.  Even now, years after their divorce, and with him living in Israel, he comments on Facebook about craving them.  They're that good... crisp but tender, buttery with a delicate nuttiness.  The Almond Clouds were new to us last year, when my mother stumbled across the recipe in an old newspaper and decided to give them a whirl.  They're some of the tastiest little treats I've found, easy as pie to whip up, and they're great for gluten-free folks as well as they use no flour.



Almond Clouds

325 degrees
20-25 minutes.

10 oz. almond paste
1 cup sugar

Blend together in a mixer or pulse in
a processor.

Put mixture in mixer and add:

2 lightly beaten egg whites
1/4 tsp almond extract
1/8 tsp. orange oil or
1 tsp. orange peel

Scoop onto parchment lined
cookie sheets. Dust heavily
with confectioners sugar and
indent 3 fingers into center.

Bake 20 - 25 minutes.
Cool on pan.



Mexican Wedding Cakes
350 degrees
15-20 minutes

1/2 cup pecan halves or pieces
1 cup confectioners sugar

Pulse together in processor til
fine.

Cream 1 cup butter in mixer
with ½ tsp vanilla.
Mix together nut mix and
1 3/4 cup flour with a pinch salt.

Gradually add flour mix just
until incorporated.

Chill 1 hour.

Roll into 1 in. balls.
Place 1 1/2" apart on parchment
lined cookie sheet.

Bake 15-20 minutes or until they just
barely begin to brown.
Cool on sheets a few minutes and
roll warm cookies in additional
confectioners sugar.

Preparedness stocking stuffer swap

This amazing idea to pack up preparedness supplies and send them to a like-minded stranger, as detailed here http://selfrelianceadventures.blogspot.com/2010/11/2010-preparedness-stocking-stuffer-swap.html got me all excited.  Tonight I went to the hardware store and procured the $20 worth of goodies I'll be sending to some lady in Georgia tomorrow:

2 emergency blankets
2 packs of waterproof matches
1 pack of regular mouth canning lids
1 LED flashlight with a pack of batteries
3 packs of seeds: spinach, romaine, pickle cucumbers
1 pair of gardening gloves
1 roll of garden twine

It ended up not looking like a whole lot, but I think it's a nice little package of necessities.  I had been planning to pack some first aid supplies as well, like bandaids, antibiotic ointment, rehydration salts, etc... but I hit the $20 cap before I even started in on that.  Next year, maybe!

Holiday spirit

Christmas is but two weeks away, and I'm starting to feel more in the mood for it.  With temperatures dropping down into the teens this weekend, we've finally decided to turn on the heat for the first time this season.  I'm hoping we get a bit of snow.  I'm humming carols to myself as I wash the dishes.  Packages are being wrapped up in (recycled from Honeybunch's shipments of hoop-making supplies) brown paper with silver curling ribbons.  Today I brought home a bouquet of evergreen boughs and eucalyptus, and candles are burning throughout the house as I type.  It feels like Christmas.

All the gift shopping that's really left are the stocking stuffers for Honeybunch and family (my favorite holiday shopping... I love finding fun little treats to tuck into the stockings!), and the stocking stuffers for the Preparedness Stocking Stuffer Swap being organized by http://selfrelianceadventures.blogspot.com/2010/11/2010-preparedness-stocking-stuffer-swap.html .  I think that is just such a great idea, and I'm anxious to get started on putting together a nice package for my swap partner.

There's still lots of baking to do, as my friends will be receiving loaves of homemade bread, cookies and jars of preserves put by in the peak of summer.  Next Friday I'll be getting together with some friends for a holiday goodie swap for which I'll be making my lavender and rose shortbread cookies.  I'll be baking up a whole bunch of them this weekend and will post the recipe with accompanying photos.  Neighbors and coworkers will also be receiving plates of cookies this year, but I haven't decided what other varieties to prepare yet.  Perhaps mexican wedding cookies and almond cloud cookies... my mouth is watering just thinking of it.

On a related note, the winter solstice is joined by a total lunar eclipse this year on December 21st.  I took off from work for it, and have to wonder if the staffing office notices my strange habit of taking time off around significant astrological events.

Miraculous transformation

We all have satellites in our lives.  Exes, long lost friends, distant family members... these people orbit on the periphery of our lives, coming in close enough during the journey of their ellipse only once, maybe twice a year to witness who you are as compared to who you were.  If you're lucky, and if you're open to it, these moments when your paths cross can be a time for reflection and gratitude.

The last time we really spoke, I was living at home with my mother and awaiting my return to nursing school after a year-long hiatus.  I was working in the lab, and at a shop, and I was just learning to hoop, really.  I was turning 21, and while I had a few distant inklings, I had no clear picture of what I wanted my life to be.  We'd just broken up, after nearly two years of dating, and three years before that of very close friendship.  The last time we really spoke, I was losing my best friend.

Now to speak to him, and to tell him about getting married, trying to buy a farm, working on a cardiac floor, establishing my life as a self assured and happy young woman... I realize that I have transformed.  My core is the same, it has never really changed...  I still feel happiest in the middle of the forest, I'm still stubborn and silly and entirely vulnerable to all things cute and fuzzy.  But somehow over the past two and a half years, I've settled into my skin, and found a way to let my core "person hood" guide me through every thought and act of my waking life.  I've built a life that reflects and celebrates what I value and love.  It's not perfect.  It's not often neat.  But it's who I am.  I think I finally understand exactly who that is now.

Productivity

It feels really, really bizarre to not be canning, dehydrating, freezing, or growing any food right now.  I'm kinda freaked out. 

It's not like there aren't other things that need to be done.  There is always laundry, always cleaning, always cooking and baking and tending of the animals.  But eventually, that stuff is done, and it's dark and cold outside, and my body says to me, "sleep, Gelfling".  Lately, I've been listening to it.  A lot.

I have goals this winter... crocheting and knitting projects I want to get done, basic fiddle skills I need to learn, books to read and a wedding to plan.  I've been helping my Honeybunch with the unskilled labor parts of building his LED hoops.  But lately, all I seem to really want to do is curl up under about a thousand blankets and sleep for hours on end.  I feel sort of guilty about it.


The holidays are fast approaching, and I'm starting to get excited about the little gifts I'm finding for my loved ones.  I'll be making a few handmade things as well, such as blown and painted eggs from our girls in a handmade twig nest for my mom, moss terrariums, and air plants in interesting thrift-store acquired containers.  Friends will be receiving loaves of freshly baked bread and homemade preserves.  Etsy.com has been a godsend for those perfect unique little things for my family members.  Where else could I find a t-shirt of a T-rex riding a bicycle??


I'm going to bundle up and head out to the woods for a hike, then swing by the bi-weekly winter grower's market to stock up on tasty local apples.  The rest of the day is a mystery, and I'm just hoping that I stay awake for it.

My Christmas WishList

Dear Santa,
For Christmas this year, I'd like 5-10 acres of clean, green land.  Some of it should be wooded, preferably with a couple dozen sugar maples... and some of it should be open to the sky, ready to receive our seedlings and goat kids in the Springtime.  A mature orchard somewhere in there couldn't hurt, but if not... just the room to plant some apple, pear, cherry, peach and fig trees would be more than adequate.  A few hills would be nice.
I want a garden large enough to feed our little family of two through most of the year.
I want neighbors, close enough to befriend, far enough to not be scared away or otherwise disturbed by our parties.
I'd love to have a small running spring-fed stream, one that we could build a very small dam in to make the waterfowl happy and to harvest a small amount of hydroelectric power from.
I'd like a well with clean, delicious water.
I want two hives of bees, a couple of goats, maybe even a trio of sheep, a pair of angora rabbits to breed, and the chance to have a rooster in our flock so our girls can hatch out their own eggs. 
I'd like a modest house, with a good roof, dry basement and well-maintained electrical, water and heating systems.  I'd like a wood stove.  I'd like hardwood floors and draft-less windows.  I'd like a bathtub.  I'd like a kitchen large enough to can our tomato harvest in.   I'd like a room with high enough ceilings to hang our silks... if not in the house, then in the barn.
Yes, I'd like a barn.  Nothing too fancy, mind you!  Just a sound building to keep our creatures safe and warm on those winter nights, a place to store hay and to milk goats. 
I want the room to make a beautiful and functional workshop for my Honeybunch.  I'd like to help him build a kickwheel and a kiln.  I'd like for him to be able to use his drill press, and a lathe, and his welder.  I'd like to have the space and time to learn these things myself, Santa.
I want all of this, within reasonable driving distance of both of our places of employment, within our reasonable price range, and in an area without exorbitant taxes.

I know it sounds like a lot.  But I've been a really, REALLY good girl this year.  Seriously!!!!!

See one, do one, teach one.

That's a phrase I heard over and over again in nursing school, describing how to best become proficient with your clinical skills.  A mere 6 months after I finished my orientation as a new nurse at my hospital, I'm now orienting the next generation of newbies.  It's strange, and unnerving, to be looked at as an "experienced" nurse by the young ladies I've been a preceptor for this past week... I don't feel like an experienced nurse.  I still feel really green!

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and we'll be braving some awful traffic to join Honeybunch's family for a meal.  My sister is currently half a world away in Israel visiting our father and won't return until Sunday, and my mother has to work the holiday evening shift.  So, we'll celebrate with my half of the family later in the weekend.  I love having an excuse to feast more than once, especially on hearty comfort foods like sweet potatoes, green beans, sweet corn, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, stuffing (made veggie style outside of the turkey by my ever thoughtful mother)... my mouth is watering just thinking of it. 

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, full of gratitude and spent with the people you love.

Brussel Sprouts!

I loooovvve lovelovelovelove brussel sprouts.   Love them.  That's right, I'm in THAT camp.  Folks are very much divided when it comes to these little miniature cabbages.  Many claim to hate them.  I used to be one of them.  But then I realized that they could be prepared in a way other than boiling them to DEATH to the point of being bitter mushy nasty bits of poo. 

Now I am a proud sprout-lover. 

You may be too, if you get some nice fresh tender green brussel sprouts and try roasting them like this.  I find them to be crispy, salty, addictive and more delightful with each biteful (that rhymed!), very much like popcorn, actually.

Roasted Garlic Brussel Sprouts

Wash well.  Trim the stem ends and remove the tougher outer leaves.  Slice in half lengthwise.  Peel some fresh garlic cloves and coarsely chop.  Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Heat some olive oil in a cast iron skillet over medium heat.  Place the sprouts cut side down in the skillet, toss in the garlic, and cook until browned.  Transfer the whole skillet into the oven and bake, shaking the pan occasionally to stir 'em up, until browned all over to a nice deep golden color.  A little bit of blackened outer leaves doesn't hurt at all.  Remove from oven, sprinkle with garlic salt, and you'll find yourself eating a week's worth of brassicas in one sitting. 

Good instincts

"You have good instincts." 

One of my coworkers told me that this morning.  It's probably one of the best compliments I could ask for as a nurse.  It says, "you're not just clinically competent, you're in tune with what's going in with your patients and you act on that knowledge judiciously."  Except it says that in four nice neat little words.

The woman I'd been caring for who inspired this comment was in her 60s, and in generally poor health.  She had emphysema and heart failure, diabetes and high blood pressure, the usually cocktail of chronic ailments that turn a local citizen into a "frequent flier" at our hospital.  This time she has gone into respiratory failure at her nursing facility, and was intubated and in our ICU for a few days before they stablized her, pulled out the breathing tube, and sent her up to our floor for further monitoring. 

At midnight when we met, she was alert and pleasant, on 4L of oxygen and breathing just fine.  She slept for a few hours, periodically ringing her call bell for assistance to the commode (a consequence of the diuretics she'd been taking as treatment for her heart failure).  At 0300, I went into the room to bring medication to her roommate, and found her sitting on the edge of the bed looking short of breath.  I listened to her lungs and heard some wheezing, checked her oxygen saturation and she was at 96%, which was more than adequate for a woman with her health problems.  However, the wheezes were concerning, and  I called the respiratory therapist to give her a breathing treatment. 

After the treatment she stated she felt better, but her lung sounds did not improve.  As she sat there, I watched her became lethargic and "out of it" as she spoke to me.  Her speech was becoming slurred, and while she still followed commands when I asked her to squeeze my hands, she just wasn't with it like she had been a few minutes before.  I checked her blood pressure and it was fine.  I checked her blood sugar, and it was high but not critically so.  The rest of her vitals, including her oxygen saturation, were still within normal limits, her heart monitor showed the same rhythm that she'd been in all along. 

But something was wrong.  She was not looking, sounding, or acting like the woman I'd met a few hours before.  This was more than just the three o'clock sleepies, or an asthma exacerbation.

I asked the nurse's aide to stay with the patient as I hurried out to the front desk, and when a coworker asked what was wrong, I said "one of my patients is going weird on me," as I dialed the beeper number for the physician.  When the doc didn't answer the page right away, I called the ER looking for her.  She came to the phone and irritably said, "when I don't answer a page that means I'm with a patient".  I ignored her tone and went on to tell her that my patient was having a sudden change in mental status and becoming lethargic with slurred speech.  I told her the results of my other assessments, which were all normal, and she irritably said "her vitals are stable, I'll be there when I can get there".  I thanked her and said that I hoped she would hurry, cause the woman seemed really off to me. 

This whole process took maybe four minutes. 

I entered the room again, and found the patient to be entirely unresponsive, blue, and barely breathing.  I called for a rapid response, ran for the crash cart, and started manually ventilating her.  Soon after, the physician and respiratory therapist arrived.  As I squeezed the bag forcing air into the woman's lungs, I watched her oxygen saturation rise from 45% (BAD!!!) back into the 90% range (good!).  No longer blue, but still not breathing on her own, we worked hard to stabilize her and get her to the ICU, a place she probably should not have left in the first place.

I recounted her medical history, the events of her hospitalization thus far, and what had happened during this episode to the physician.  I started a second IV site on her and gave her a sedative to help the anesthetist intubate her so she could be hooked back up to ventilator.  We did an EKG, a chest x-ray, blood work, and arterial blood gases.  We transported her to the intensive care unit, where she was put on a ventilator and prepared for further testing, and as I gave report to the nurse taking over her care, the woman woke up and scribbled on a notepad, "why do I have this tube in me again?!".  She was back.  She was alive, she was alert, she was going to make it.  I nearly laughed with relief.  So close to death, and she had no clue what had happened to her.

The snarky doctor who was so irritated that I'd interrupted her work for a "patient going weird" caught me in the hallway, thanked me for my help and said I'd done a great job.  I took it as an apology, and silently accepted. 

Each time a patient has gone south on me so far in my career, I've known it before it happened.  Even when the numbers and tests are telling me that they are at baseline, I've known that something was seriously wrong.  I'm not saying I'm psychic, don't get me wrong.  I've just had that nagging feeling that sometime wasn't right.  Each time I could have easily made the mistake of ignoring my instincts, of choosing not to speak up for fear of being wrong and looking dumb.  But each time I've made the choice to trust my gut, to look a little deeper, to make the phone call and say, "something isn't right here, and I think we have a problem.  Here is why."  It certainly isn't a vast amount of clinical experience (though each day of school and experience on the job is certainly helping!) that is guiding me to these decisions... I haven't been at this nursing gig for long.  But I do have pretty keen intuition, and each time I have put my trust in it a life has been saved as a result. 

Sometimes it pays big to trust yourself.
Trust yourself today. 
If the weather says a low of 43 degrees, but you feel a frost coming in your bones, cover the garden. 
If something in your gut tells you to take the scenic route instead of the freeway, allow for a few extra minutes of travel time and cruise. 
You never know when your instincts could be spot on, so play it safe, and remember the initials of nurses everywhere: C.Y.A.  Cover Your Ass.

Cast iron

Up until a couple of weeks ago, I'd never cooked in cast iron.  I was a "stainless steel with copper core" gal all the way.  But with a bit of research I was reminded about the benefits of cooking in cast iron (trace iron in your foods, excellent nonstick properties with proper seasoning, even heat distribution and retention), and bought the Lodge Cast Iron "Combo Cooker" online.  I am in love.  I get such a kick out of frying up eggs in the morning, washing it with plain water after and oiling it up to a nice lovely black sheen before putting it back on the shelf.  I loved oven roasting brussel sprouts to a crisp nutty finish in it.  This weekend, I may even try to bake scones for the first time. 

It takes a lot to impress me as far as cookware goes.  During high school I worked for a kitchen supply store for several years, and learned the ins and outs of gadgetry and gimmicks.  I learned to tell the difference between the (insert famous TV chef name here) flimsy metal CRAP and the professional grade, "with you untl you die" good stuff. We sold cast iron there too, and I remember learning of its alleged benefits shortly after starting my job there, but no one ever bought it... so I was never sold on it either.  It sat on the shelves, dusty and forgotten behind the gleaming stainless, copper and nonstick cookware sets.  I assumed it was outdated.

How wrong I was.

The most incredible thing about cast iron is that it releases food beautifully, but there is no synthetic nonstick coating to scratch off.  I own a nonstick skillet by ScanPan that has treated me very well, and in return I have come to love it... to the point of absolute neurosis, carefully watching anyone else who was cooking it in to be certain that NO METAL ever touched its lovely grey surface.  Even with that level of care, I'm seeing little nicks in the coating here and there, probably just from jostling with other dishes or utentils in the sink during washing.  It has lasted a few years, but probably won't make it too much longer before the coating gets damaged enough to be a nuisance, and then a hazard. 

My $40 investment in cast iron will outlive me.  I enjoy that idea, however morbid it may be.

Spicy Pumpkin Soup

I HAD to share this recipe with y'all, as it is my new favorite pumpkin soup recipe and I cannot stop eating it.  A friend of mine brought it to a potluck and I hadn't been able to stop thinking about it for weeks, so I obtained the recipe from her and finally made a batch of it myself yesterday. So.  Damn.  Good.  Whatever you do, don't skip the relish... it really makes the soup what it is.


Spicy Pumpkin Soup




* 2 tablespoons butter

* 2 bay leafs
* 1 medium yellow onion, finely chopped

* Salt and pepper to taste

* Pinch of cayenne
* 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour

* 2 teaspoons poultry seasoning

* 1 teaspoons ground thyme

* 3-6 teaspoons hot sauce
* 6 cups vegetable stock

* 28 oz pumpkin puree (or butternut squash, I've found!)

* 2 cups heavy cream (I used whole milk with success)

* 1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

Relish:

* 1 crisp Granny Smith, coursely chopped

* 1/4 -1/2 red onion, finely chopped (I used a shallot and it was delicious)

* 2 tablespoons lemon juice

* 1/2 cup dried sweetened cranberries, chopped

* 1 teaspoon chili powder

* 2 teaspoons honey

* 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon



Directions
Heat a medium soup pot over medium to medium high heat. Add and melt the butter. Add bay and onion. Season with salt and pepper. Cook 6 or 7 minutes, until tender. Add flour, poultry seasoning and hot sauce, to taste, then cook flour a minute. Whisk in stock and bring liquid to a bubble. Whisk in pumpkin in large spoonfuls. Simmer soup 10-15 minutes to thicken a bit then add in cream and nutmeg. Reduce heat to low and keep warm until ready to serve.

Halloween

... is over.  Already.  How is that possible?  This year has gone by too fast.  We turned the calendar over to November, and all of a sudden winter is here, with a killing frost this morning and several comforters piled up on the bed.  Someone pulled the curtain on Autumn.  I cannot help but be a bit melancholy about it.

We had a busy and fun Halloween weekend, and I'm happy to say that we terrified many a small child with our circus themed "haunted house" of sorts that we set up for the trick-or-treaters at our friend's house.  We all dressed up as creepy clowns and performed circus tricks in the yard while others jumped out of hiding places to make kids and adults alike squeal and jump out of their skins. 

Since we have yet to turn the heat on so far this year, I'm finding every excuse I can to turn on the oven.  Today I'm baking challah.  This recipe has gotten rave reviews, and I thought I'd share it so you too can heat up your kitchens and eat egg and butter-rich bread during these long dark evenings.

Challah

Combine 5 c flour and 2 tsp salt in a bowl.  I sometimes use 1 cup of whole wheat... there is a little something of a sacrifice in texture, but it makes me feel a bit less guilty about the next step....
Melt 6 tbsp of butter and let cool slightly.
Mix 7 oz warm water and a packet of yeast together with 2 tbsp sugar.
Make a well in the flour mixture and add butter, yeast mixture, and two eggs. 
Stir until forms a ball, knead until elastic and smooth, lightly coat bowl in oil/butter, turning ball of dough to coat, and let rise until doubled in bulk.
Punch down, form 3 or more strands of dough and plait together, pinching ends and tucking under to keep from unfurling. Let rise on a greased baking sheet until doubled in bulk.
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Mix the yolk of an egg with a tbsp of water, brush top of loaf and sprinkle with poppy seeds.
Bake at 400 degrees until deeply golden and hollow-sounding when tapped on the bottom.
Let cool before slicing (or, as I prefer, pulling apart in peices with your hands) if you can control yourself.

Back on track

Honeybunch and I made moss terrariums this past weekend, and re-potted all of our warm weather plants that will need to come inside over the winter.  I'm not sure how successfully the moss and succulents will live together in the long run... but I think it's a beautiful combination.

I'm planning on giving these as Christmas presents, as well as using them as decorations at the wedding.

 I love the different textures and colors of all the different species, I think they're a beautiful way to bring some living green woodland spirit into the house as the days grow short!

These past few weeks have been filled with major slacking on the local eating thing.  Without the thrill of fresh, warm tomatoes from the vine and bright colored crispy things coming in from the CSA, my cooking creativity has been lagging and so has my motivation to keep things fresh and unprocessed.  Last night, I made vegetarian sloppy joes from soy sausage, a box of spices, and canned tomato paste from Whole Foods.  Yup, it was a low point.  We ate it with our homemade bread, but still...

But I'm trying to get back on track!  I love the apples, squash and salad greens we're getting now that the weather is crisp... and we have an abundant supply of eggs now that everyone is laying (except for Bambi.  She hasn't laid one of her lovely green eggs since Cerberus died.  I know she's just molting, but I like to believe that it's grief).  The dark leafy greens should keep coming until our CSA ends, and roasted root veggies are mighty fine.  So, I'm going to aim for making a soup, a loaf of bread, and quiche each week at a minimum.  These three things will keep the two of us well-fed during the work week and will help prevent the kind of slippage that I've been guilty of lately. The challenge will be putting enough creativity and imagination into the recipes to keep it interesting as the tender fresh goodies of summer go away and the sturdier fruits and veggies take over. 

Any suggestions???

Wedding plans update

Things are moving along so smoothly that I hesitate to even speak on it, fearing that I may jinx myself. 

The hardest parts of the planning phase of the wedding preparation have been so easy for us so far, it's ridiculous.  This checklist is more for my own planning and organization than for your entertainment, but if you care, please do go on and read :)

Fiance?  Check!  Only the most wonderful man in the Universe, that's all.

Date? 10/8/11

Venue? Beautiful Civil War Era farm with a farmhouse, cottage, writer's studio and bank barn, halfway between his folks and mine, in the middle of 83 acres, with enough beds to sleep all of our immediate family comfortably.  Perfection.

Guestlist?  A work in progress.  We're limited in how many folks we can invite, and that's making this task a bit trickier than expected.  But we're confident that we'll work it out.

Invites?  I bought a big box of printable blank cards, Honeybunch will be doing the design.  I've started a wedding website at http://www.mywedding.com/ where guests will get the nittygritty details and RSVP. 

Dress?  Oh hell yes.  Being custom-made for me by an AMAZING seamstress and designer from Etsy.com, http://www.etsy.com/shop/ellanacouture.  Let me just say it is gorgeous, green, and very much my style.

Officiant?  Our dear TreeMan will be marrying us :)

Music? Almost there... hoping to secure a contract with the fantastic hand drummers we want, but need to try to get them down in price a bit.  We're close though!  And a friend has agreed to play her violin for the ceremony, just need to pick a piece of music.

Menu and cake? Planned out as previously discussed, with quantities of most of the items required estimated.  I'm hoping to recruit my friend who formerly ran a catering business to help me finesse the details.

Booze?  Homemade wines and meads, bottled and served in big galvanized metal tubs of ice.

Chafing dishes and Sterno?  BJ's Club, baby.  We're not worrying about being too classy with this part.

Rental place for tent, tables, tablecovers, chairs, wine glasses, and utensils? Check, and they're close to the farm, too.

Dinner dishes, bowls, water glasses, and candleholders? A major deal on Craigslist secured 120 place settings of these.

Floral design? We're working with a talented designer friend to nail down our ideas... which aren't very "floral" at all but instead involve wheat, pussywillow, sage, and feathers!

Centerpeices? So easy.  Jack-o-lanterns carved with celtic knots, and bowls of autumn fruits. Voila. We'll be making our own escort cards, table numbers and seating cards. 

Lighting?  I have my eye on a 50 ft string of lit up paper lanterns, and lots of fairy lights.  We're going to make hanging candle and LED lanterns from recycled glass jars and wire.  The firepit will illuminate the dancing area.  Lots of candles on the tables, too.

Favors?  Another great Etsy find: birdseed hearts! http://www.etsy.com/listing/59627891/100-bird-seed-heart-wedding-favors-free

After we secure the drummers, finish the guestlist, and figure out what Honeybunch wants to wear, then recruitment for voluntary help amongst our friends and family happens, and finally the purchase, borrowing, or creation of the physical things we need.  Somewhere in there we have to plan our ceremony, write our vows, and figure out who is going to take care of our critters while we're away that whole week.  The day or two beforehand will be chaotic as we set up the space, prep the food and fret over the weather... but it will be fun, too!

I think there are several reasons why this is all going so smoothly.  The fact that I'm a Type A neurotic who makes tons of lists and likes to get things done nearly a year ahead of time helps.  The fact that we know what we want, and we want the same things is helpful.  Another factor is that we both have awesome families who are being 100% supportive of whatever we want, and making no demands on us at all.  Another major one is that my father unexpectedly offered to help pay for the event, and while we're simple folk and doing things as inexpensively as possible, that help is what is really making it possible for us to rent the farm for a full week like we wanted to, and to hire the drummers we adore so much.  If we were doing this on our own, we'd probably have ended up in our backyard.  It's really nice to be able to have the resources we need to create the wedding we really want.

And finally, we're banking on the fact that our families and friends are awesome, and will want to help us pull this whole DIY thing off.  We are blessed that we are surrounded by so many creative, skilled, and generous people... which is why we want to throw a kickass party, too!!!!

October wanes

This season is going by way too fast for my comfort.  Already I'm seeing my breath as I leave the hospital in the morning, the sun just barely peeking up over the horizon.  I see very little daylight anymore.  The hour or so of light between when I leave work and when I fall asleep has been pale, and dampened by heavy fog this past week.  When I arise, the sun is setting and the world is dark once again.  This is just a warmup for the long dark of a winter working night shift.

Our greens have sprouted, and seem to be doing well in the cool damp soil.  I finally did plant the garlic and green manure, but I fear the chickens managed to find their way into the fenced garden plot and have probably consumed all of the green manure seed that I broadcast there.  Oh well.  It all turns into food eventually, one way or the other. 

I haven't been preserving the harvest the way I should be.  I need to make applesauce, fruit leather, and can some pears in light syrup... but the motivation and time have been lacking.  Tomorrow evening a few lovely likeminded ladies will be coming over for a "Salsa Swap" that has morphed into an all out canned and homemade goodies swap and potluck.  I'm excited to try everyone else's recipes and to learn something new. 

Our Sucky Fish died.  You know, the kind that goes around the tank eating algae.  I can't remember the actual name of the species... I always just called him Sucky Fish.  He'd been acting rather morose, and we thought that maybe he needed a girlfriend... but no, he died.  So this time around we'll be getting two, hoping that the pleasure of each other's company will help extend their lifespans.  Poor little Sucky Fish. 

My sister's birthday party was a wild success.  Many jack o' lanterns were carved, many glasses of wine poured, many high-calorie bits of decadence consumed.  It was awesome, and the last guests left around 4:30am. 

I am super excited at the idea of spending this weekend at home, with no plans for either Saturday or Sunday.  This is revolutionary.  Honeybunch and I have not had a weekend that has not involved a festival, camping trip, party, or road trip SINCE MAY.  That is absurd.  Originally we had plans to go to an event in D.C on Saturday... we even have tickets... but earlier this week I threw a little tantrum about how I feel the need to have a weekend when I don't have to be "on" all the time... a weekend free of performance, hostessing, and sleeping on the ground.  Honeybunch sensed the fraying of my rope, and has worked very hard to clear us of our obligations this weekend so we can stay home and relax.  I am so psyched.  I might even read a book!!!

Doing it Alone

When I read some of the blogs of women (and a few men, too) who are out there making the homesteading dream a reality, I am astounded by their strength, and by the fact that they are doing it alone.  Now I'm not the old-fashioned type who thinks that a man is necessary for anything to be accomplished... but I do know how hard it would be to be doing it full-time without the help and encouragement of another person on a daily basis. 

I thank my lucky stars that I have Honeybunch around... especially on those rare occasions when I'm sick, or injured, or just plain exhausted from a long night of work... when it's raining outside and the chickens are roosting in the fig tree instead of the coop, or the box of harvested tomatoes is starting to go soft, or the trash needs to be taken out, and my body can hardly carry me to the kitchen sink for a glass of water.  I know that I COULD do it, and would because you do things you don't want to especially when little critter lives are on the line... but I sure as hell wouldn't want to. 

I'm largely in charge of the kitchen and garden endeavors around here, because I want to be and I think I'm good at it.  I could probably handle that part of it by myself.  But when it comes to hooking the chicken coop up with solar panels to run their light and water heater, I'm lost.  Honeybunch has a unique set of skills that are quite honestly beyond me.  He is the puzzle piece that I was missing, without which I was sure my dream of self reliance would never really happen.  It was only after we met and discovered our common goals that I seriously started to consider the possibility of getting off the grid and out of the conventional food system.  The idea was always too overwhelming to think of doing alone. 

So here's to the ladies and gents out there making it happen for themselves.  You inspire me daily to get my sorry butt out of bed, to carry those 50 lb sacks of chicken feed by myself, to stretch and try a new skill even if it scares me.  Thank you!

Autumn party menus

It's been getting down into the 40s at night here lately, and the chill in the air is making me crave hearty, hot meals.  Now that turning the oven on means getting the chill out of the house, I'm feeling inspired to bake for the first time in months as well.  Last night I stayed up late baking a kale and parmesan quiche and a curried pumpkin soup, and made a new favorite in our house: fresh cut french fries with malt vinegar.  I'm trying to justify it by saying that putting on a few extra pounds will help insulate us during the winter ahead, which I have a feeling will be a very bitter cold one.

I'm throwing a Halloween themed potluck bonfire party for my sister's birthday tomorrow night.  To me, a party is made firstly by the people who attend, and secondly by the food.  The weather is forecasted as clear and cool, and this means the menu is calling for vegetarian chili and cornbread.  I'm going to whip up some cupcakes in these very cool Halloween-y cupcake papers by Martha Stewart http://www.fancyflours.com/site/7100-MS-GB-1.html , and serve an alcoholic punch out of a hollowed out pumpkin.  I'm going to try a punch that calls for 1 part cider, 1 part rum, and 2 parts ginger ale... hopefully it turns out to be tasty.  Honeybunch will be whipping up a batch of his beloved taco dip, and I'll bake some challah to serve warm with fresh butter. 

In other food news, we've pretty much settled on the menu for our wedding.  We plan to serve either mushroom or pumpkin soup, freshly baked bread, cheese ravioli with garlic spinach and tomatoes or butternut squash sauce, green salad, roasted root veggies and brussel sprouts, and a variety of cheeses.  My mom is baking our pumpkin cupcakes with cinnamon buttercream frosting, as well as some delightful little sweet things like baklava bites and blackberry sage cookies.  We'll be serving a variety of our homemade wines and beers, as well as hot apple cider and tea and coffee.   The rest of the planning is coming along nicely, and I'm happily surprised at how smoothly it's all going. 

Other than party planning, my life goes on much the same... work is stressful but rewarding, the festival season is finally over and the camping gear put away for the year, the chickens are popping out eggs and the cats are doing things they're not supposed to. 

Grapes everywhere!

*note, there are lovely pictures to accompany this post, but Blogger is being stupid and won't allow me to post them.  I will edit and add them when it is behaving itself.*

This past weekend was a busy, messy one. 

We picked Concord and Niagara grapes at a vineyard/orchard, where the insects swarmed us and our hands became so very sticky.

After having dinner with Honeybunch's folks, we went to a county fair a few towns away to oogle bunnies, chickens, goats, sheep, and gigantic mythical-looking draft horses.  It took all my self control to not come home with a Lionhead bunny rabbit in a cardboard box.  We put our cold fingers deep into the wool of some beautiful black-faced sheep, and ate fried pierogies (yes, we washed our hands in between).  We didn't get home until after midnight... and upon waking Sunday morning found that we had four gigantic bags of grapes to deal with. 

We washed, destemmed, and crushed them all.  Crushing grapes by hand is a very uncomfortable affair... the acid in them burns your hands after a while.  So Honeybunch came up with a creative solution.  He got a paint mixer attached for his drill and whizzed 'em up in the fermentation bucket.  It worked quite nicely, and this morning I pitched the yeasts into the buckets of soon to be Niagara and Concord wines.

A word on Concord wine:  I'm not a huge fan of the varieties I've tasted, including the ones we've made ourselves.  It's either too dry for me, or if sweetened, it tastes like cheap table wine.  However, we brew it specifically to mix with other wines to create new varieties.  One of the wines that has gotten rave reviews from us and our foodie friends is a mix of our spiced honey wine and the dry concord we made last season.  It adds a deep, rich "red" flavor to an otherwise sweet white mead... When mixed together, bottled, and allowed to mature, it becomes a complex and full-bodied off-dry wine that everyone seems to enjoy.

Some of the Concord grapes I reserved to make grape jelly.  It turned out simply delicious, a perfect replica of the purple sweetness I enjoyed on sandwiches as a kid.  I used the Ball Blue Book pectin-added grape jelly recipe.  In the future, I'll probably use a recipe calling for no-sugar-added pectin and sweeten it to taste, because I was quite honestly horrified at the amount of sugar this liquid pectin recipe called for.  However, it gelled nicely and tastes wonderful, so no regrets, right??   I doubled this recipe and ended up with just shy of 8 pints.

4 cups of concord grape juice prepared for jelly
(grapes washed, destemmed, crushed, add about 1/4 cup of water per quart of pulp, cook until soft, then strained through cheesecloth for hours until all the juice has dripped out.  I'm impatient and only let it drip for a few hours, squeezing the bag every so often, but that can make the jelly cloudy *though mine has always turned out clear anyways.* Measure your juice after all of this has been done and adjust the quantities in the recipe as needed)

7 cups sugar
1 packet liquid pectin

Place the juice in a nonreactive pot, add the sugar, stirring to dissolve.  Bring to a rapid boil over high heat, stirring constantly.  Add the pectin, stir, and boil hard for 1 minute.  Pour the hot jelly into your hot prepared jars, remove air bubbles, wipe rims, apply lids and rings, and process in a boiling water canner for 10 minutes for half-pints (I used pint jars and processed for 15 minutes). 

It took about 16 hours for the gel to set properly, so don't panic if the jars cool and it still looks runny.. check again in the morning!

annnnnnddd I'm sick.

Sigh.
Went to work last night, and sudden got the "whoa, I don't feel good" blues.  Nausea, sweats and chills, an a burning churning tummyache were shortly followed by vomiting.  I stayed until after 3am anyway, because our floor was insanely busy and I simply couldn't leave my coworkers with an absolute sh*tstorm.  I assessed all my patients, gave out all their meds, completed my admission, did all the paperwork and documentation, all punctuated by episodes of placing toiletseat covers on the floor of the bathroom so I could kneel before the porcelain throne and hurl.  I somehow managed to change diapers, dressings, and IV bags while smiling at my patients and faking a calm sense of wellbeing (I think I missed my calling as an actress).  Then I crawled into my car and drove home seeking my bed. 
I feel like crap. 

In other news, a nice steady, heavy rain is falling, the kind that we were missing all summer long.  My fall garden is drinking deeply.  I planted *correction: replanted after the bed was destroyed by a poorly behaved dog* romaine and salad leaf lettuces, spinach, and tatsoi. Yet to find its place in the ground are my two types of garlic and the green manure cover crop seed I purchased to sow in the tomato bed.  Leaning against the house right now are three old windowframes that need to be stripped of their paint and sealed before they become the ceiling of my little coldframe. 

All of this will wait until I am able to eat without feeling like I'm on a small boat on choppy ocean waters.  Until then, I have three very sweet and friendly kittens who simply can't believe their good fortune that they have someone to snuggle with all day long today. 

"Tell" Tuesday

You know you're an urban homesteader when... you come home from work in the morning and the back of your little black Hyundai contains:

100 lbs of chicken feed, 1 very large warty pumpkin, 2 head of brocolli, 2 ears of corn, a lb of butter, a gallon of milk, a gallon of cider, a head of cabbage and a mason jar filled with season flowers... all grown and harvested locally and sustainably.

Spring and summer garden lessons

This past year has been full of lessons for me here on the homefront.  This was the first time that I actually had a little chunk of earth to garden on, and I've come away from the warm weather gardening seasons having learned quite a bit.  Here are ten lessons I will do my best to take with me into next spring when I'm planning, plotting and scheming about the season to come:

#1 Skip the cherry tomatoes.  We don't eat enough of them to justify the use of the space, and most of them ended up being chicken food.  Next year, I'll instead plant more yummy Black Sea Man slicers. 

#2 Use soaker hoses.  I failed to this past year because it was going to be a pain in the ass to thread a soaker hose into the different beds scattered across the yard.  But the hot and dry summer we had absolutely demolished many of our plants long before their time was up.  I am simply too busy to spend an hour watering every day. 

#3 Forget the brassicas.  The soil is too poor right now (though we're trying to change that!), and the cabbage worms were too much to keep up with.  Besides, the plants are huge and we're tight on space.

#4 One Sahuaro hot pepper plant is plenty.  These prolific producers are still pumping out more spicy green gems than I can possibly use... and we made the mistake of planting two!

#5 Plant more winter squash.  They produced well with very little effort on our part, and we loooovvvveee to eat them!

#6 Order lady bugs early in the season to control aphids.  Toward the end of spring our lettuce patch was infested and it was too late to do anything about it. 

#7 Skip the tomato cage business all together.  The cages were too small and flimsy to support the massive plants and we ended up resorting to tree stakes... and when it came time to pull the plants out it was a real chore to untangle them from the wire cages they'd outgrown!

#8 Mulch heavily, mulch early, mulch often.  Aside from the moisture retention and weed inhibition mulch provides, the quality of the soil right now in fall is much, much better in the beds I mulched as opposed to the beds I did not mulch with leaf compost.  It broke down beautifully and now the beds are ready for fall planting. 

#9 Potatoes should be grown in the ground, under dirt.  Our experiment with the taters in bags and covered with straw yield lush, green, beautiful foliage... and two spuds the size of dimes.  Total failure.

#10 Plant way more traditional 'pesto' basil plants and fewer smaller leaf flavored varieties.  We pretty much used the basil strictly for making pesto, and while the other varieties were delicious, they were much more labor intensive to harvest and yielded a great deal less leafy goodness.

Circus summer camp

Honeybunch and I just returned from a weekend of intensive fire performance and circus arts workshops.  It felt like being at summercamp when we were kids!  Eating together in a giant mess hall, folks standing on the tables doing silly things to entertain us during dinner, a horn blowing to notify us of the end of one class and the beginning of another, campfires burning at night during the "talent show" of fire hoops, poi, staves, fans, juggling, firebreathing, eating, fleshing, acrobatics...
It was a great time.
But I am oh so very sore.

Eggplant be warned!

I've had a bushel of eggplant sitting on my kitchen counter for over a week.  So far, I've only prepared six of them.  I'm having a very hard time motivating myself to take the hour out of my day to peel, slice, bread, and freeze all of those buggers for future eggplant parmesan.  I'm intimidated, which is silly, because while they have numbers in their favorite, I have the knives. 
Sigh.
Today, I WILL finish off that bushel, if it is the last thing I do.
I will also roast the pumpkin I carved up tonight for soup.  And I will toast its seeds to a perfectly crispy salty finish. 
I will bake bread.
I will then clean up the ridiculous mess that is sure to be created by all of this kitchen activity, take a shower, and open a bottle of wine.
Today is the day, no more excuses!!!!!

Sunday

Honeybunch let me sleep in late this morning, and made us cinnamon pear pancakes for breakfast.  He is the awesome-est.  I'm a lucky gal.

Cats vs. dogs

I am a cat person.  I will not deny that I absolutely love and adore my cats, all three of them.  I also love and adore pretty much everyone else's cats too.  If there is a kitty about, I will find it, scratch it behind the ears, and talk to it as a peer.

Someday, I hope to have land enough for a dog.  A REAL dog, mind you.  The kind that is bigger than a cat, and will defend our livestock from predators.  The kind that will round up the chickens, goats, and sheep with a few simple words from me.  I want a working dog.  The dog will have a warm, comfortable home in the barn, with the other animals, where it can keep an eye out for nighttime critters like foxes and raccoons and coyotes.  It will be showered with affection and praise, but trained and disciplined to be a farm dog.  To me, that is what a dog is meant to be, and they are truly wonderful creatures when they are given the chance to be what they should be. 

I love dogs.

Today, I found the dog my neighbors arebabysitting happily digging up my entire newly planted fall garden bed.  I ran outside, yelling "NO!", and she bounced over to me happily, placing her giant muddy paws on my stomach, nearly knocking me over and requiring me to change my clothes.  I grabbed the scruff of her neck and put her on her side, but she just continued to grin that toothy grin at me, and bounced back up as soon as I let her go.  This dog has had absolutely NO training, NO discipline... she has been given no purpose, and has been living in a small urban apartment the whole six months of her life.  It would have been much easier to train her before she was 60 lbs.  She jumps up at you, chases the chickens and cats with her jaws open, digs in the garden, chews on things... she has become an ill-behaved dog. 

I do not like ill-behaved dogs.

I know it is not her fault.  Without a firm and consistent trainer, any dog will become a "bad dog".  It is really the owner's responsibility to make sure that boundaries and rules are set and enforced to the point where the dog does it naturally.  But that does not change the fact that I now have to replant my entire garden bed, use more water and electricity for my laundry, and keep my kitchen door closed on this gorgeous fall day so she doesn't try to run through the screen at my cats. 

Dogs are a lot of work.  As far as I'm concerned, if you don't have a decent sized backyard for them to run around in, if you don't have the time to teach them basic commands and good habits... don't get a dog.

Get a cat. 

The witching hour.

People often go down at dawn or dusk.  Some say that these hours of transition are times when the veil between the two worlds is thin... the time when lines, edges and boundaries are blurred.  The sky blends into the ocean, the ocean blends into the shore. When the sky is starting to lighten but the sun has not crested the horizon, it is the witching hour, and this is when many people will leave this world and move on to the next one. 

I was caring for a sickly man in his 50s with multiple health issues, two of which were low blood sugar levels in the mornings, and chronic pain in his legs.  His pain had been poorly controlled on the oral Dilaudid the whole previous day, despite taking it every four hours... so the doctor changed the order to IV Dilaudid.  Shortly after midnight, I entered his room to assess him, and found him stable, but in pain.  I brought him his scheduled dose of Dilaudid, and a little bedtime snack to try to keep his blood sugar from crashing out at 6am as it had been doing for the past several days.  I checked on him half an hour later, and found him resting comfortably, stating that his pain was relieved and that he thought he could actually get some sleep.  I wished him a good night's rest and continued with the business of my night. 

Throughout the night, though it was a very busy one with 6 patients and NO nurse's aides on the floor, I checked on all of my patients at least once each hour.  Each time I checked on this gentleman, he was either awake and watching TV or sleeping comfortably, with a gentle snore.  His color looked good, his breathing unlabored, all was well.  At 5:30am, I entered his room to check his blood sugar.  He did not wake up when I pricked his finger for the blood sample, but this did not cause me alarm, as patients will often sleep through this testing, especially if they have neuropathy of their extremities, as this man did.  He was still snoring quietly, breathing easily, and his fingertips were pink.  His blood sugar was well within the normal range, and I was relieved.  I moved on to the next task. 

40 minutes later, I was walking past his room on my way to see another patient... and I just had a feeling.  I entered the room, and found this man slumped over in bed, cyanotic, soaked in sweat, and breathing in a very labored way.  I shook him, hard, calling out his name... no response.  I rubbed my knuckles into his sternum with painful force... nothing.  I pulled his pillow out from underneath his head so I could assess his pulse, and he flopped onto the bed, limp, mouth lolling open.  Horrible.  I ran out into the hallway, telling one of my fellow nurses that I couldn't get my guy to wake up, and grabbed the pulse oximeter and blood glucose machine, running at full speed back into the room.  I was sure this guy's blood sugar had somehow bottomed out on me. 

I check his blood oxygen level with the pulseox... he's at 47% on room air.  You should be at least above 92%.  I ask one of the nurses to call the Rapid Response team, and grab me some 02 tubing and a mask.  I check his blood sugar.  It's perfectly fine.  "But that doesn't make sense," I think.  One of the other nurses had even said "oh yeah his sugar is definitely low, look at the sweat on him" and had run into the med room to get some IV Dextrose.  He LOOKS like textbook hypoglycemia.  I check it again, on the other hand.  Still fine.  What the hell??   Could it be the narcotics?  I gave that dose of Dilaudid nearly 6 hours ago, and he had no issues all night!  How could his respiration be depressed from that NOW??

The rapid response team arrived, and we began pushing air into his lungs with the Ambu-bag.  We attempted to find the guy from anesthesia, find that he need to be sedated in order to get a tube down his throat (he was clamping his jaw shut), but guess what, they leave at 0630!  We sent someone out to call around to find the CRNA from the OR. The physician arrived shortly thereafter.  I'm checking the man's pulse, which was still strong, and trying to get another good reading on the pulseox.  Another nurse is trying to start a second IV, another is getting his blood pressure.  The monitor tech calls in that he is still in normal sinus rhythm.  "What's this guy's story?" the doctor asks me.

I freeze.  My mouth goes dry.  I can't even remember the man's name.  "I am totally blanking out right now."  I say aloud.  I recite what had happened in the past fifteen minutes, and what had happened since the beginning of my shift.  The physician starts grilling me on this guy's health history, social history, etc... details of his life that my adrenaline is not allowing me to remember, and my note sheet is nowhere to be found in this chaotic room. 

Finally, after about 8 minutes of stuttering disorganized thoughts, my brain is starting to unfreeze and I'm recalling his history, labwork, and how much Dilaudid he had receieved orally the previous day.  Now this makes sense... his liver function wasn't the greatest, and all that oral Dilaudid he'd received previously was probably building up in his system and just caught up with him during the witching hour that morning. The CRNA arrives and sedates him so the respiratory therapist can intubate him, and his oxygen level finally begins to rise.  However, his blood pressure tanks from the sedative.  We push a bag of fluid into him as fast we can, my hands aching as I literally squeeze the bag to force the saline in. 

We rush him to the intensive care unit, where he's hooked up to a ventilator and started in a drug to keep his blood pressure up.  He's still blue, and going rigid at this point, and his core temperature is low.  I give report to the nurse taking over, finding myself now able to think clearly.  She smiles at me, says she's got it from here.  I scribble a note on the chart recounting the events of the morning, double check the rapid response team record for accuracy, and sigh as I head back upstairs to clean up the mess, reassure the man's roommate, and give report on the rest of my patients to the oncoming shift.

I leave late, sit down in my car, and burst into tears.   Had I missed something?  When did things go wrong?  Could he have been in that state when I'd checked on him earlier in the morning, had I not noticed??  Why did my brain completely shut down on me in the middle of that?  How much of an idiot do my coworkers think I am right now?  Is that man going to die?  Is it my fault?

I cried the whole way home.  I had nightmares about it as I slept that afternoon.  When I woke up that evening and got into the shower for work, I cried again, dreading going back into work for fear of finding out what happened.   I stopped at the grocery store on the way in, grabbing some cookies to thank my coworkers for their help and support.

When I arrived, everyone who had been there the night before told me that I'd done a great job, that I knew my patient well and that it was normal not to be able to answer those kinds of questions in the middle of a crisis.  My supervisor reassured me that I did exactly what should have been done, and that there was no way that man could have been in that state for very long before I found him.  They also informed me that earlier that day, he'd pulled his own breathing tube out and walked out of the hospital against medical advice.  We all knew he'd be back before too long, but it was a relief to know that he'd pulled through. 

Even if they'd told me all of this the morning of the event, I know I still would have cried in my car on the way home.  It was too horrible not to.  The color of that man's skin, his body dropping limply onto the bed, his chest heaving maybe twice per minute...and then the coarse gurgling sound as the air was pushed through the tube into his lungs... it was terrible.  To go from being awake, alert, and talking to THAT... it was traumatic. 

I've had people go into distress, I've had people go into deadly arrhythmias, and I've had people die.  But I've never had a patient have such a rapid and drastic change in status before... and it was terrifying.  Some parts of my brain functioned... the ones that knew what emergent steps I needed to take to keep the guy from dying... the ones that knew how to hook up IV tubing, enter my user code in the blood glucose machine, and look for a femoral pulse.  But other parts of my brain completely shut down as my body reacted to the situation with complete and utter panic. 

The other nurses praised me for keeping my cool, so I suppose it must not have shown... but on the inside, I was a boiling vat of anxiety.  I suppose that is normal in a crisis situation... but I have learned now to NEVER let my clipboard leave my side again.  That sheet of paper with my notes written on it would have saved me from those 8 minutes of flustered bumbling, and might have held vital information that my crisis-activated-brain could not recall. 

8000 lbs of rock

We pulled, by manpower only, an 8000 lb stone, uphill, in the dark, in silence.  And then we raised that stone and set it in the ground, amongst many other stones from years gone by on the hilltop, to stand with its shoulders in the sky for generations to come.  It was beautiful.  It means something.  I can't put my finger on exactly what, or why... but this was good work. 

Labor Day

After we hit the farmer's market for provisions, we're off into the mountains to spend our weekend hauling two-ton stones up a mountainside, using raw man power, to be set into the ground as part of a megalithic circle that will stand and mark sacred ground for centuries.  I'll return on Sunday with hands blistered from pulling rope and feet sore from dancing the night away in the sand of the drum circle. That's my kind of labor. 



Have a wonderful holiday weekend, world!

Back-to-school time

It's officially September, and I have the back-to-school bug.  It's been a full year now since I finished nursing school, and it feels strange to not be buying new pens and notebooks for the start of a semester at this time of year.  This is compounded by the fact that several close friends are going to back to school (for the first time in years, in many of their cases) this semester.  Their excitement, anxiety, and anticipation is infecting me. 

When those first few crisp nights of Fall roll in, I always start to get just a bit manic. 

Fall feels like the start of a New Year for me... much more so that the lonesome, cold beginning of January does.  In September, I feel an intense need to simplify, get organized, and tackle overdue projects.  It's a new day!  Old habits, procrastination, dust be damned!  Life is short and the air is brisk, breathe deep and dive in!  Each year before, I'd be starting school and pouring this energy into my schoolwork.  Last year after graduation, we were at Burning Man, then in California until mid-September... and when we returned, we were moving into our new place and I was looking for a job and studying for my boards... it all served to satisfy my Autumn urge to be busy.  I don't have any of those distractions this year, and this is dangerous.

The sense of possibility, of immediacy, and of endless energy will sometimes make me do crazy things.  At 4:30 this morning, while the first batch of Rambo applesauce cooked down on the stove, I seriously considered starting to paint the front door of our apartment (it's an awful color grey in our nice sunny blue kitchen).  I talked myself down enough to let it go until there was at least some light in the sky to work by.  It's 7:30am now, and just about my bedtime... but I'm still resisting the urge to start priming.  This is the kind of idea that posesses me in September. 

This was taken when we moved in last September (ha!  Flower, our pet skunk, got to that watermelon before we did... we learned to never put anything with sugar in it at skunk height ever again).  See the awful, awful grey color?  It's been bothering me for nearly a year!!

If it is found that I'm still awake at noon today, organizing my seed collection alphabetically or sorting the gravel in the fish tank, please send help. 

The Pantry Tally

As of today, I have canned 24 quarts of tomatoes, 8 quarts of pasta sauce, 4 quarts of whole peaches, 3 pints of sour cherry preserves, 6 pints of spiced vanilla peach butter, 4 pints of green pepper jelly, 2 pints of apple jelly (from windfallen apples from my mom's trees!) and 8 pints of salsa. 

Our freezer is packed to maximum capacity with corn, cherries, raspberries, strawberries, blueberries, green beans, snap peas, spinach, and figs.  And I still know that we haven't put by enough (especially in the fruit department) to last us until next season. 

I've dehydrated corn, cherries, kale, sweet peppers, hot peppers, and potatoes... but only quart or two of each.  Not much.

I still feel like I have a lot of catching up to do. 

I'd like to have put by at least twice the amount of pasta sauce and tomatoes that we have canned at the moment.  We use a lot of canned tomatoes in our stand-by cold weather dinner recipes, like chick pea curry and black bean chili.  Pasta is a meal we fall back on time and again when my creativity in the kitchen is drying up. 

Red raspberries are back at our favorite Pick Your Own farm... but finding the time to get there and pick (a tedious and time-consuming task) is difficult.  I'm determined to get there within the next two weeks, and to freeze as many as I possibly can, and turn some more into fruit leather.

I definitely need to freeze and dry more corn.  A couple of weeks ago I bought a bushel of corn and ended up letting it dry out and feeding it to the chickens... I simply didn't find the time to preserve it.  At least it was used, but still... I hate waste.  I bought another bushel today and I intend to blanch, cut and freeze all of it by the end of the day tomorrow.

One thing we absolutely must address is the figs.  The tree is so overloaded with fruit, the chickens have learned not to run to the feed buckets in the morning, but to beneath the fig tree where overripe fruit litters the grass.  I want to can figs in syrup, dehydrate some, and make wine and jam.  We've put several full gallon bags of the fruit in the freezer to be used in wine or jam when we have the time, but we're now officially out of space in there.

Fall approaches, and with it will come applesauce, more apple jelly, apple butter, dried apples dusted with cinnamon... and of course, the delicious crunch of fresh apples off the tree.  Local galas have arrived at the farmer's market, my very favorite of apples.  I'd also like to make a large batch of hard cider... we have but one bottle of my two-year-old cider left and I can't bring myself to drink it and accept that it is simply all gone!  It tasted like rubber bands for the first six months and we put it away and forgot about it... when we rediscovered and opened a bottle, it was hard to stop drinking them. 

It is satisfying to look at all of those lovely jars of food lined up in the stairwell... but intimidating to think of the long months of winter not too far in our future.  Can now, sleep later!!

"Wooded Acres: Townhomes and Condos for sale and rent"

They'll probably name the development something like that.  It makes me feel nauseous to even think about it. 

The land upon which Treeman's rented Civil-War-era farmhouse sits is being sold and parceled up by its owner, to be turned into 67 homes.  The house itself can't be bulldozed because it's considered "historic"... but it will only be left with 0.4 acres of land. 

The road through the development will plow right through the workshed and the garden beds surrounding it, filled with flowers... it will run up the hill and into the woods, probably taking out the tree in which they've built the platform at the start of their ridiculously high and long zipline.

On Friday night while sleeping under the bright moon, I dreamt about foxes.  On Saturday night, Action Figure Bob trekked off into the woods with his gun because a rabbit being killed by a fox had been screaming for 20 minutes and they couldn't stand to hear it anymore (he wasn't able to find the pathetic creature before it finally stopped screaming). 

On Saturday afternoon, Jeremiah and I chased a herd of deer, a dozen or more of them, through the woods in our bare feet, giggling as we ran over fallen branches and acorns. 

Where will all of these creatures go?  Where will the fox hunt the rabbit, and where will the rabbit run to hide from the fox? 

It's heartbreaking to think of.  The garden, the outdoor shower that I've enjoyed by torchlight, the firepit and the field in which two gentle giants of plow horses once grazed... this is the place where I've celebrated the Spring Equinox for the past three years, where I first lit up a fire hoop... Soon it will all be paved and landscaped, probably with that horrible red mulch, and torn down and built up and made to look like every other place...

Treeman will be moving this winter, before they break ground next Spring.  He can't stand the thought of seeing it happen, and neither can I.

Playa dreams and jelly.

... and here I am, awake.  I tried to sleep, got in a few hours maybe before waking myself up by talking in my sleep about "water dripping in through the roof of the tent".  I'm having Burning Man dreams on the regular lately.  Part of me longs to be out on the playa, with its spectacular sunrises and sunsets, it's vast open emptiness in contrast with the buzz and hum and burn of the city that emerges from the dust each year.  But, the other half of me breathes a sigh of relief at being home when I think of the dust, the heat, the dryness of that place... and of all the work it takes to get out there and survive it.  This weekend, we're going to visit Treeman, where we will cook delicious food, climb old trees, take a bubble bath in his clawfoot tub (we have no bathtub at our place... the hot tub helps but it's just not the same!), and be lazy like it's our job.  I can't wait.

I worked a 12-hour shift last night, and was pleasantly surprised to find that I really liked it.  Sure, waking up earlier and hardly even seeing my Honeybunch before going in at 7pm was a little rough... but it was really a pleasure to get to know my patients while they were awake.  I felt like I had so much more information to work with, such a greater understanding of the "big picture" surrounding my patients' current illnesses.  What a difference four hours makes!  Of course, by the end of it I felt like I'd been beaten with a baseball bat... but not so much more than I usually do to deter me from wanting to work 12's on a regular basis.

Tomorrow my To-Do list is as long as my arm, and includes making jelly from the fallen apples provided by my mom's trees, and finishing the green pepper jelly I have cooling its heels in the fridge.  I've never made (nor tasted) green pepper jelly, but Honeybunch claims to like it, and having bought a giant box of green peppers for ten bucks at the farm down the way and filled the dehydrator twice over already, I need to do SOMETHING with them besides munch on them with hummus.  I am not planning to add green food coloring, however.  I think that awful color is the main reason I've never tried the stuff!

Today, I...

... canned 6 more quarts of tomatoes.
... bought parsley when I meant to buy cilantro, and therefore got halfway through making salsa.
... dyed my hair flaming orange, just 'cause.
... found Samosa sleeping in the fruit bowl.
... gave a little lesson in vegetarian cooking to a lovely young lady who is new to the non-flesh way o' life.
... slept about two hours.
... found myself really looking forward to the end of summer (and the end of mosquitos).

Keep your fingers crossed...

...I'm requesting to be transferred to a new position at my hospital.  It is the Holy Grail of nursing positions.  Two days/week floating on the floors, doing things like admitting new patients, helping out the other nurses with random tasks, but not actually taking a patient assignment of my own, from 11am-11:30pm... plus one day/week taking an assignment on telemetry from 7am-7:30pm.  I wants it, oh do I wants it!!   

The HR department called me today to offer me full-time work... they wanted me to do three 8-hour shifts plus one 12-hour shift/week on nights.  I declined.  My commute to work is long, and ultimately I don't want to give up the flexibility that comes with working three shifts/week unless it's for the perfect job.  And to be quite honest... anything on night shift is automatically imperfect.  I'm tired of nights.  I'll keep doing it as long as I have to, but I can't tell you how much I miss sunlight, sleeping with my Honeybunch, and being able to relax with him over a glass of homemade wine when he comes home from work in the evenings. 

Plus, everything is just more difficult at night.  We only have one physician on staff in the whole hospital at night.  Our patient loads are enormous.  It's more difficult to get a hold of the supplies and help you need, should something be amiss.  There are fewer opportunities to teach, to get to know your patients.  They either don't want anything to do with you because they're sleeping, or they want everything from you all night because they're demented and frightened. 

So I'll put in for this position, and hope that they'll overlook my relative inexperience and choose to focus on the fact that I have awesome people skills that are being wasted during the nighttime hours. 

In other news, I'm hauling in loads of hot peppers from the garden... more sahuaros than I know what to do with.  Looks like I'd better get the dehydrator running again...

And so it ends...

... our tomato plants are officially dead.
Their withered brown stalks are dropping unripe fruit, and I have to give in and pull them out this week.  Sigh.  The heat and lack of rain this summer really killed 'em good.  One of the many lessons I've learned from this year's garden: use a soaker hose in the tomato plot. 

Facing Me

An experiment in self portraits from the Old Nichols Farm blog...

A change in perspective: winter.

I'm finding myself to feel differently about the seasons as I become more in tune with the natural cycle of the year.  I find my attitude changed most notably in regards to winter.  As I lay here in bed trying to stay cool with three fans blowing air around in our little Cave, I think about the sense of dread I've always felt as the summer ends... Fall moves in, but never stays long enough... and the bitterness of winter creeps up on the heels of October and kills all joy and light.  Winter has always meant death to me. 

Now, as the heavy harvest work of climbing fig trees and canning tomatoes peaks, I find myself looking ahead to winter with a sort of prepared anticipation.  I know that come February I'll be itching to have my hands in black soil again, with the sun beating down upon my back and the chickens panting in the shade of the fig tree.  But right now, I can see myself beginning to view the months of cold and dark as a time of rest. 

What will I do on my days off when there are no weeds to pull?  How will I fill the hours when our meals do not require the filling of a compost bucket with peels, cores and seeds?  Yes, I admit that as I spend these afternoons sweating in my kitchen and putting pounds of prepped fruits and vegetables in the freezer/canner/dehydrator, I find myself looking forward to the time when I pull out these stores, throw them in a slow cooker and call it dinner. 

I do not consider myself a lazy woman, but I do enjoy my hours of leisure, and the idea of having more of them is almost worth having fewer hours of sunlight.