Chapter 56
The “Night of the Bomber” was a turning point, but it wasn’t a huge, standout event in so far as it changed my life. It helped put it back on course, but it didn’t really change anything.
Work, work, work
All day long
Crank it up
Back it up
Bring it on home
Uncle Day-Day loves that song. Aunt Fran hates it. Mom would just roll her eyes because it talked about snuggling and stuff which Mom thought a little inappropriate though she and Dad do it. They just don’t make a production of it when Dale and I are around. They are private people with their affections. Aunt Fran was very demonstrative, she just didn’t like country music. She preferred 1950s pop and didn’t listen to that too much because Uncle Paul would lecture when he came around.
Wow, I can still go down rabbit trails in my thinking. I’m doing a lot better than I was, but looks like I need to stay on guard.
What I was saying was the night of the bomber was a turning point, but it didn’t change much if anything. After the soldiers left, I was still just as alone as I had been. They didn’t send on the radio but I know that they are receiving so I guess I can say that did change a bit. Air traffic in the sky has been noticeable but not nearly as “interesting” as it was that night. I can tell they have increased zone patrols and are using the bigger drones instead of those little no-see-um sized ones. The ones they use now would register on radar if anyone bothered monitoring that altitude. And no signs of salvagers and I can say that because I’ve taken to using Sundays as the day I check things out along the Ridge. I do it as I’m bringing the hives back in so I conserve fuel.
What’s more, I’m not as worried about the fuel reserves as I was. There was fuel in Aladdin’s cave; a lot of it. That’s how I’ve started to think of the cave that no longer exists in Skunk Hollow. Skunk Hollow no longer exists either. Not really. That fighter plane pretty much did so much damage that even if the cave was still there, a smart man wouldn’t go in it on a high-dollar bet. And I lied about not finding fuel at the outpost. I could justify the lie and rationalize why but I don’t want to do that too much. It might become too easy and then I’d get into a habit that I might not be able to get myself out of without some severe consequences.
I finally managed to get all the peanuts in. I had given serious consideration to giving some to Turnbridge and those guys that cleaned up the planes, but I decided against it based on the vibes I was getting from Lt. Clark and Major Mendelssohn. I think those two have some kind of racket going, one that shouldn’t be condoned. I noticed they told me not to worry about the salvagers, but they didn’t say anything about the salvaged items I claimed to have found in the millhouse. Makes you go hmmmm and wonder things that you shouldn’t have to wonder about when it comes to people in authority.
I found the big mesh bags that Uncle Hy kept stocked for peanuts. I took them, filled them with peanuts as they came out of the dryhouse, and then hefted those suckers and carried them down to the sub-cellar where I stacked them in a far corner with a lot of peppers to keep them safe. I wish I had some more barrels, but I barely had enough for the last batch of honey and the others I need as water barrels. I did manage to rearrange some of the stuff out of those galvanized trash cans from the haul from the Millhouse but that only helped a little.
My snack on most days is peanut butter with apple. I do it so often that I moved the antique hand-crank peanut sheller to the kitchen as well as the hand mill grinder that I then turn the peanuts into peanut butter with. The fresh peanut butter goes rancid if you don’t keep it refrigerated or use it within a few days. No refrigerator, so I have gotten pretty good at measuring exactly how many peanuts to grind for butter that will get used up before it spoils. And even if I do have a little extra I give it to Pretty who seems to be getting pregnancy cravings. I find her chewing or loving up on the weirdest stuff. Butch doesn’t know what to make of it either but I’ve seen him bring her rabbits and squirrels that he caught on his own and she just licks him to pieces. They seem to have more sense than humans on most occasions.
I’ve got apples coming out of my ears. And now that I’ve managed to get my brain back in mostly working order, I’ve been doing a lot with them besides juicing and drying them. Had to while the peanuts took up the dryhouse for so many days. Let’s see, I’ve pickled apples, made applesauce by the gallon, made glace’ apples, canned sliced apple rings, made quarts of apple pie filling, apple-maple jam, apple-cinnamon syrup, apple-blueberry conserve, apple preserves, apple marmalade, apple-raisin marmalade, plain and spiced apple jelly, apple chutney, apple ketchup, apple BBQ sauce, apple butter by the wheelbarrow full it seems, apple and green tomato chutney because some of the tomatoes aren’t going to ripen before the first frost, pear apple jam because the pears are near as bad as the apples it seems, and even managed to find Grammy’s recipe for her prize winning Dutch Apple Pie Jam. I’m still digging around for other apple things to can. I’ve also found ways to use apples in a lot of different recipes but it’s just not as fun to cook when it is only me. I’ve been eating the tail ends of anything that won’t fit in a jar when I’m canning or just eating stuff raw. I’d give a lot for some sausage or a burger or whatall but it is just too much trouble and I’m worried about wasting stuff before it spoils.
I’ve never really hunted anything big on my own. I’ve trapped and stuff like that, but not used a rifle for deer and the like. I know I can do it, I’m just not sure it is worth the effort right now. Something or someone got to the nutria colony that Mitch and I were picking off to manage their population. Wouldn’t be surprised if it were bobcats or bears as I’ve seen a lot of sign for both, but thank goodness now around the farm. Butch marks and re-marks his turf pretty regularly. I’ve stepped in a few marks unfortunately. I’m hoping that keeps the bigger predators away. I’m not sure I could hold off a bear before it did damage.
And there is a lot of stuff I can eat without having to cook. Muscadines, both the red and gold varieties, are still coming in. I can make a decent meal out of a bell pepper with some fresh salsa. I’m still eating table grapes though it gets irritating having to stop and spit out the seeds. I got spoiled with the seedless types that used to come in the grocery and I’ll admit I miss them. The yellow raspberries that I don’t can, get eaten up. Tomatoes are still coming in though they’ve slowed down enough that I don’t have to make juice with them to use them up before they spoil. There’s still a few pawpaws ripening on the trees and the persimmons are finally ripe enough to use without turning your face inside out. Some crazy little thing called an aroniaberry is making if Uncle Hy’s name tag on the little stand of bushes is to be believed but I haven’t got a clue what to do with it. I guess it is one of his experiments. The black chokecherries are out in the forest and I’ve gathered enough, but not too many, and the deer are coming down and getting into them as well.
In addition to the apples and pears, the crabapples are ready. I don’t eat those things fresh however. They do make some good apple butter, but you have to cook them way down and add plenty of honey. The last of the plums have come and gone, something Grammy called a red elephant heart. Some heirloom variety but I always thought the name was bizarre and a little icky.
I’ve picked the last of the fresh beans and now the rest of them have to dry on the vine so they can be held back for seeds and for dry beans over the winter. The last keeping cabbage went into the root cellar. I can’t decide what to do with it. I’m considering making a bunch of cabbage soup and canning it.
The last of the white potatoes have finally been dug. For now I’ve put them all down in the root cellar too. I need to hold back some for planting next year but … I’m still figuring things out and my motivation is one of them. If it is still just me, I’m not going to plant a big garden just to have something to do. That’s manpower I could use for other projects though I admit I’m not sure what those projects could be right yet. One step at a time Nann.
Sweet potatoes have a while yet before I’m done harvesting them. Uncle Hy, God bless him, used sense and planted in succession rows meaning he didn’t plant all of a thing on the same day for it to come in and be ready for harvest on the same day. Except for the field crops and he left most of the farm fallow this year.
The pumpkins and winter squash are now coming in. Some of the pumpkins I’ll leave on the vines as long as I can. For now, the only thing I’ve canned is some pumpkin butter and squash butter; that and I’ve toasted a bunch of pumpkin seeds to eat as I hike around. About have the time I don’t know what I’m going to pull out of the pocket of my overalls; peanuts, hazelnuts, butternuts, pumpkin seeds, sunflower seeds (at least those I could save from the tree rats), and now I can add pecans, almost, and hickory nuts. There’s also Chinese chestnuts but I only can those so a lot of them are going to go to waste I suppose.
The strangest thing coming in right now are the kiwis. Why Uncle Hy got into growing those fuzzy things I don’t know. He said they were a good seller at the produce station. I’ll just have to take his word on that. I’ve eaten more than a fair few this year but they aren’t the tastiest thing on the planet. And I’ve made more than a couple of batches of kiwi jelly and preserves. All the other recipes I have for them call for an ingredient I don’t have right not, namely pineapple. You’d think if kiwis and pineapples went together so well they would grow in the same locations but nope, there’s God’s sense of humor again. Or maybe His way of trying to get people from different places to work together. Above my paygrade to say for sure, but it seems possible.
I had just been joking with Lt. Clark about kudzu, at least at the time, but I gave some of Grammy’s old recipes a try and kudzu really does taste like spinach when it has been cooked down. Or mostly like spinach. Or maybe it is just spinach as I remember it. Heck, anything tastes good when you add bacon or hog jowl. I’ve canned a few batches of that too just to have something to talk to the cows about when I’m out there milking Henrietta. She’s starting to wean her little bull, he’s getting obnoxious. If I pen him off from the others he cries and cuts up a fuss but when I live him in with the others he’s a bossy snot. I wish Mitch were here, he’d know what to do.
Even with Henrietta being the only cow left giving milk, and less milk at that, I can’t drink it all myself. I’ve gone back to making cheese since the stuff from the Spring looks like it is doing okay even if it is still kinda green. I’ve made the hard cheeses like cheddar, Colby, and Romano for long keeping and then I made some soft cheese for fast eating … like white farmer’s cheese and egg cheese and cottage cheese. I even figured out, on my own (with a book of directions so maybe not totally on my own) how to milk one of the nannies and make goat cheese and preserve it in olive oil which there is a pretty good amount of still. That’s not even something that Grammy did. She used to milk the goats but only for a lady in town who had a houseful of kids that were allergic to cow milk. My next project to try before the cow goes dry is to make mozzarella. I’ve got directions, I just need to find the time. The idea of a pizza is something that makes me think I might just be willing to bother cooking again.
There’s been a fair few autumn olive berries this year. I made Grammy’s recipe for Autumn Olive Berry Ketchup that won her the blue ribbon in just about every contest she entered it in. I made some AOB Jelly to go on the shelf beside it. And I might just have a prize-winning recipe of my own … crab apple salsa. It started out being a mess of a mistake because it was dark, and I grabbed the wrong bowl and dumped it in the pot before I could check myself. I wish Uncle Hy was here to taste test it. I like it but then again, I’m not too grossed out by much anymore; limp greens, slightly mushy mushrooms, bruised tomatoes. If I don’t have to cook it, it finds its way into my daily salad. Maybe there will be someone some time that can share it with me and can tell me if it is gross or not.
Beets are late this year. It looks like it is going to be another week before I can pull the row and bring them in for processing. I’m not sad about that. It will give me something to do as the rest of the garden is dying off. I need to make plans now though, get everything lined up. I’ve only got so much of the other ingredients left … vinegar and spices an such … that I need. I’ve followed Grammy’s directions for making cider vinegar but when the white vinegar is gone it is going to be gone and that’s scary.
Pulled a carrot today that looked like a milking stool. Wish Mitch was here to laugh at it with me. The cows just weren’t seeing the joke and only rolled their eyes and chewed their cud. Butch and Pretty tried for my sake but they just thought it was a new toy to entertain themselves with. I let them have it and they played with it for a good long while before chewing it to pieces.
And by the look on their faces, it is time to go in for the night. Bugs are starting to come out and drive us all crazy. I’ve already put the animals up. Not only are they safer, I don’t have to use the smudge pots to keep the blasted vampire mosquitos at bay. You’d think with it cooling off the bug population would shrink. Lately they’ve seemed to be getting worse, not better. Maybe the first frost will knock ‘em down enough we aren’t miserable.