Burning Birch

I heard this on Wisconsin Public Radio this morning.

An excerpt: "To burn birch is to split birch. Its charitable, and splits as crisp as celery. Amateurs can impress friends by splitting birch. Among woodsmen, birch is favored of old men in flannel who no longer want to fight oak wars. They have given up on elm- it is no disgrace to give up on elm. Ash is a good substitute, but you will one day be too old for ash. For old men, redemption is birch fire."

Burning Birch, by Justin Isherwood

a dog story

A neighbor up the hill got in touch late this past week, saying she'd seen and heard a dog from the direction of our driveway when she'd been walking down the lane to get mail. She'd wondered if it was our dog, but didn't think so, and whether we knew anything about it. We didn't. 

She said it was a big dog, with a big, throaty bark. We hadn't heard it.

This afternoon we walked down the driveway to get our mail, which we'd forgotten about yesterday. Lupine dashed down the hill and around the curve of the driveway and we heard this unknown dog's big bark. It was baying from the hill above the turn in our lane. It wouldn't come, but wouldn't go far. I hiked up the hill towards it, and a light-colored something on the ground. It was another dog, curled up next to an old wood pile, dead. It was clear that the barking dog had been sleeping in the leaves right next to its dead friend for a number of days and nights. It still wouldn't come to us.

The dead dog had a collar, and a tag with a phone numbere. I called and delivered the news to an older fellow who said he'd been missing two dogs for five days. Jake drove to the township hall to meet him and led him back to our place. The barking dog came to his owner, wagging and whining, and hungry, and Jake carried the other one down the hill and put him in the man's truck. The man was shaken, but thankful we'd called.

We'll never know what happened, there were no visible wounds on the dead dog. I feel badly we didn't know sooner. Maybe they'd been there all week, and we drove by them early morning and late afternoon and didn't hear or see them. I keep thinking about those dogs, and how the barking one, Clyde was his name, wouldn't leave his friend. Buddy. Buddy was the dead one. Clyde barked at people walking by, which where they landed only ended up being our one neighbor and us, asking for help in the only way he knew how. He did the right thing, and got them both home in the end. 

It's Been a Long Time

I hope your late autumns have been lovely. It is a strange time at TelltheBees, when the leaves are down and there's no snow. Not my favorite time of year, certainly. When I wake up at night and look out the window, I can see lights on the opposite ridge, and the noise from the highway over the hill is noticeable now, having no foliage to block its hum, only tree trunks and bare branches to ricochet off of.

The garden is almost completely put to bed. The last of the carrots are out, sweetened having been through a hard frost. The kale and the spinach are hanging on, thanks to the clear plastic sheeting spread across it. We are dreaming of a cold frame. Simplicity is our friend: this simple model that would work well, but we like these, too. 

Some of those carrots were steamed and pureed for baby food. Xan is a good eater, meaning that he eats everything offered with smiles and "mmmms." I've been trying to make as much baby food as I can (below is carrots, peas, and potatoes, frozen in ice cube trays and thawing on a Sunday morning for that day's eats) but this boy is starting to be able to eat what we eat. 

Look at those teeth!

Other recent culinary adventures include tandoori turkey for our 2nd annual Friendsgiving. I used the Bon Apetit recipe linked above which had me toasting spices for tandoori masala and garam masala and had this house smelling deliciously spicy for days. A bestie recently gifted me a Bon Apetit subscription! I'm excited.

@Kathy: your sari was only used as a tablecloth THIS ONCE and weathered the storm unscathed. 

This meal included curried rice, coconut kale, and naan, palak paneer....

MP's photo

... and was so, so good. 

We were delivered these many, many, pounds of pork a few weeks ago, the meat from half the hanging weight of a free-range pig lovingly raised by our friends a few miles from here. 

It is hard to tell from the picture that some of those stacks are five or six packages high. So far we've eaten one of the three (three!) hams, in its original form with my extended family during the latter portion of the Thanksgiving weekend, and in soup and sandwich form for the week following. It is so good, much less salty than conventional ham. 

I don't know how we'll ever get through all this meat, but we're happy to have it. The lard, visible in the picture above to the upper left, will be used for bird food (i.e., suet), or for soap-making, or rendered for cooking. Later, obviously. Right now it happily resides in the freezer.

We've otherwise been keeping busy with sink baths, 

hiking, 

and earring making. I sold my wares at my first craft show yesterday, and was mildly successful.  I'm currently selling at Tulips in Viroqua, and hopefully at other local venues soon. Sorry, no picture.

A few things have made my life better these past few months.

This book:

An interview. 

This radio show:

And, this movie. We went last night, our first sans Xan date. It was simply lovely. A perfect rendition of a well-loved book, which I will forever remember reading on a cot on the covered porch of a rustic cabin in El Yunque. 

We are hopeful for snow, soon, around here. 57 degrees forecasted for December 3rd doesn't bode well, though. 

Best wishes to you and yours.