Filling the freezer

Sunshine killed a deer last week. Then, Mr B killed a deer too. We’ve left these deer in coolers, packed in ice, for days. As the ice Clow lyrics melts, we drain the water off and add more ice.

Yesterday, Sunshine and Biff butchered the one Sunshine killed. Today, they are dealing with the one Mr B killed. 

I’m lying on the couch feeling like shit. My neck hurts, and I’m just generally tired just like I’m generally tired every Monday. I’m kind of relieved that the boss is closing us down on Thursday and Friday.  I can spend the week crocheting Christmas gifts and shit.

I have been poking my nose into the butchering process and helped a little bit here and there. 

I cleaned out the freezer to make sure the new stuff wound up on bottom, and I got rid of some freezer burned squirrels I found lurking in there. I organized it so that the meat we will be cooking for miss Mollie was in a separate location. We set aside quite a bit of the stuff we would normally grind up as ground venison, and we cook it up for Mollie.

I also can’t help but be proud of how well miss Mollie has kept all the cats and dogs away from the area.

I’ll just be glad when the house is finished so we have and proper workspace for this kind of thing.

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Our next experiment

We’ve gotten it in our heads that our next experiment is going to be growing  pumpkins and gourds.

Hell, we already have a fairly rich stock of seeds, with more arriving every week thanks to my job. The downside to this is that much of that seed stock was buried in the muckheap of our compost pile. Our compost heap is filled with rotty pumpkins and gourds and fruits and shit, which gives it the unfortunate distinction of smelling like the runny tequila shits that spew forth from Satan’s bunghole the morning after a night of too many margaritas.

This morning, I suited up in some clothes I won’t cry over (much) if I have to burn them to rid them of the scent of Satan’s shithole and waded in. I wish I had gotten some pictures, but there’s no fucking way I’m risking dropping my phone or tablet in Satan’s tequila shits, so you’ll just have to use your imagination to get an image of me knee deep in rotty pumpkin juice and elbow deep in a giant pumpkin collecting the seeds.

While I was in there, smelling the insides of Satan’s colon, I took the opportunity to stabilize the fence panels that keep scavengers (mostly) out of our compost and condense the pile as much as I could with half a shovel and a hip injury that will never fully heal.

Of course, the minute I got done with all of that and closed the newly stabilized fence, Mr B came driving up on his big orange dirt mover machine (I mean tractor with bucket on it). I wasn’t turning down free tractor time just because I was calling myself done with the compost heap, and I opened it back up and let him smoosh and turn the pile. Some of the rotty pumpkins kept rolling away from his tractor bucket, so I had him back out for a minute while I jumped in and tossed them back on the pile to get smooshed. With no gloves on. Which would have been okay except for the damned maggot I felt crawling on my hand after I stepped back to safety.

Mr B got a good whiff of Satan’s morning-after tequila shits and filled his tractor bucket with some spare cellulose left over after his last E.P.I.C. experiment. He was on to something- -part of the aroma wafting forth from that muck hole was rotty pumpkins (which nothing can fix), but part of it was from having too much greens and not enough browns in the heap.

I still haven’t finished collecting all of the seeds. There are some gourds and mini pumpkins that I still need to split open and clean out. I’ll be damned if I was doing that without coming inside to get something to drink and whine to you guys about how awful I fucking smell right now. Besides, I need to do some quick research on how to properly prep these seeds to be stored until next spring.

Someone please send an emergency care package from Bath & Body Works, mmmkay?

Monumental peach jam?

My boss dropped over a bushel of peaches on me yesterday. The texture was off on them, so he asked me if I’d want to try to make anything out of them.

I had to send out a call for help, because there was no way they’d survive the day in my truck in the Texas heat, so I radio’d Mr B.  His sister lives near my work, so she agreed to put them in her very well air-conditioned house until I headed home.

Sunshine just shook his head as he helped me get them in the house.

I don’t blame him.

This morning,  I’ve been getting my shit together to do something with all of these peaches.

I’ve got plans for some peach syrup, some vanilla peach jam, and possibly some canned peaches.

Mr B was gracious enough to come help me get the peaches peeled and sliced.

We got through about half of them before we started running out of containers and counter space. I need a real kitchen desperately! 

I’m now in the early stages of making syrup. After that, jam. Then canned peaches, if I have the energy. I do have a full day of work tomorrow,  after all is said and done today. 

I’m keeping usable food out of the landfill, and I’m using all parts of the peaches. The skins and pits are being used to make the peach syrup.  The small bits and mushy bits are going into the jam. The firm bits will be canned. If I have the energy, that is. This is a lot of fucking peaches. When I’m done for the day, everything unused (or left over) will go into our compost heap.

It’s going to be a long day. Wish me luck!

Fall garden

Mr B finally got done moving dirt where we wanted to plant a fall garden. Sunshine, Biff, and I got out there and got the dirt mounded up so we could plant the corn for the sisters method of planting. 

We used some of the old compost heap to enrich the soil. I call it the “ooey gooey”.

We also planted a row of cow peas  (aka black eye peas) and a row of chard.

In a week or two, after the corn has sprouted, we’ll go back and plant the squash, beans, and Rocky Mountain bee plant in the mounds with the corn.

I’m just glad we finally got the fall garden started.  It’s been so frustrating watching the destruction of a garden full of plants that were producing food. I’m ready to see things growing there again, because I’m tired of looking at the giant dirt scars Mr B has left everywhere with his obsession and compulsion to move dirt.