Love in the Dirt

There are no rose-coloured glasses in the garden.

When we told my father-in-law that we were putting Schoolhouse Rocks on the market, his response was exactly what I needed to hear. "Well," he said, "it looked like everything was done there, anyway."

In other words: what will the next project be?

Very generous of him, as he'd helped me realise a lot of the things I wanted in the garden: the chicken run, the veranda on the cottage, the gate to the woods and the world's biggest privately-owned arbour (I like to think).

Bedankt, Pa!

Good question, though. What WILL the next project be? Edible Front Garden? Urban Farm? Contraband chickens? I don't know, but in the meantime I'm getting my work here properly recorded and captioned.

Straight lines are so boring.

My first attempt can be found here: School House Rocks. Have a gander and tell me what you think. Tell me what your projects for 2014 are, too! I'd love to steal them ;)

I Love You Like Butter

I'm not one to complain about the weather (I simply don't see the point of it), but the cold has left me knocking around this house looking for something to do. And I don't mean cleaning.

Nothing more dangerous than a bored woman, a half litre of whipping cream and a Cuisinart.

It was on sale.

I've seen eight-year-olds shake cream into butter, so I thought it might be something I could manage. There is a small problem with shaking things when you get past a certain age, however, so I decided this might be a job for my trusty Cuisinart. My machine is ancient and the only blades I have left are a metal one and a plastic one. I decided to use the plastic one as it seemed closer in intent to a nubile milk maid armed with a butter churn.



Well, within 3 seconds I had beautiful whipped cream. I stared into it's glossiness and considered pavlova instead. But NO! I was on a mission. I covered it up, turned that baby on and waited (see: poured tea and added a splash of milk). Tea poured, there was this god-awful sound from my Cuisinart and I pulled the plug from the wall. This is what I saw:

What? Hey!

So that's what they mean by 'breaking'. You know, the more I play with milk and cream, the more I love the sciencey stuff of it.

At this point, I thought it might be time to do some reading. I'm glad I did. Apparently, if you do not get all the liquid out of the butter, it can go rancid very fast. So I poured out the liquid (buttermilk! and I thought it only came in 1L containers at the supermarket) and, well, washed my butter.

Buttermilk. Might have to make biscuits.

The Great Unwashed

Washing the butter (but not the sink)

 At this point, I understand the way old expression that the best butter maid had cool hands. Thank goodness it occurred to me that warm water would take all my butter down the drain with it. I tried using a spatula, but it was awkward for me so I used my hand. I kneaded the butter like I would bread in order to get all the buttermilk out. It took very little time.

I got the last of the water out by pressing the butter between two sheets of parchment paper.

Your own butter requires a pretty bowl, too.

Now off to the local antique market to see if I can find any butter molds.

Check out: New England Cheesemaking Supply Company for a really interesting read about all things butter.

January Rocks: Keep It Beautiful

There's beauty in everything. Even -36 degrees.

Gah. Seed catalogues have arrived in the post box.

The bug has hit me hard. Doubly hard, as Schoolhouse Rocks is up for sale and my new garden, where ever it will be, will be much, much smaller. Thankfully, I've kept my small-scale garden books, most noticeably Square Foot Gardening, and have been following The Edible Garden Project and Urban Organic Gardener.

It is not likely, then, that this spring will find my library window full of seedlings. So how do I feed the need for seeds?

1. Sprouts! A mason jar covered in cheesecloth, with a thin layer of sprouting seeds on the bottom, is almost as good as a pot. Soak the seeds in water overnight (brocolli, mung beans, mixed greens, fennugreek etc), then drain. Daily, rinse and drain the seeds. They're ready to eat within 7-10 days. You can buy seed sprouting kits, but wouldn't you rather spend that money on the seeds themselves. Or, better, wine?

2. Pots of herbs. Start them from seed, or, if you can't wait that long, any garden centres carry herbs all winter. Place them in a sunny window (watch drafts with basil, it hates the cold) and snip away. Mist them now and them to combat dry air. Alternately, place them on a tray of gravel with water in it (keeping the pots out of the standing water).

3. And if herbs (and tropicals) are happy in a house, why not vegetables? There are a few things to keep in mind, as always when dealing with plants. Light is crucial, of course, but veg like lettuce, radish, rocket (arugula) and spinach prefer cooler temperatures. Tomatoes, eggplant and peppers want temperatures over 20C. Make sure your pots are of adequate size, and don't love them to death. More plants die of being over-watered than under-watered! Being an impatient sort and the owner of a lovely cool, bright window ledge, I'm putting rocket, spinach and mesclin mix into a sterile potting mix and waiting for the magic.

For more information on indoor gardening, see:

Readers' Digest
8 Easy Veg to Grow Indoors
Best Plants to Grow Indoors