Last year the first pick was ready by the time I got home from Portland; this year, I just finished the first pick this morning.
Because of the extreme heat we've been having for the last month, most of the garden work (picking, weeding, etc.) is being done in the very early morning.
I'm usually out in the garden by am or so for a couple of hours of solid work before the heat from the rising sun sends me back inside.
It's important to always use a rack at the bottom of the canning pots so the jars aren't directly touching the pot bottom (which can cause breakage).
Blueberries are acidic, so they can be water-bath canned.
About a year ago, I got lazy and purchased a can of "blueberry pie filling" from the grocery store for a dessert recipe. There were about five blueberries in the can; the rest was filling.
But these pints of canned blueberries are chock-ful of fresh (organic!
) blueberries which can be made into pie filling within minutes.
She's a young Bernese Mountain Dog and possibly the sweetest canine lady I have ever met. Because, all the females I have lived with of the canis variety were kind of snarky and hard-edged. And when she wasn't watching her people learn the fiddle this past Sunday, she was trotting around the house with my border collies showing them how any sorority girl in a brand-new Patagonia jacket moves: confidently. I used to worry that people coming here would see a scrappy place and be disappointed (I don't worry about it anymore).
But Harper was just interested in making people feel like the world was pleasant. That look of adoration towards her owner's face is real. They drove in their van from Michigan, just to come to Cold Antler and see the big show.
Lauren and Chris came by for a half day fiddle crash course.
But they didn't mind me sweeping up dog hair mid lesson while they practiced their first scale.
They didn't mind the sagging fences or the piglet that escaped and I had to send Gibson out to deal with either.
They seemed to have a fine time and came to learn as a couple and left with a fiddle of their own. Besides fiddle lessons - I have been very distracted by hawk trapping all of September. As of that morning any licensed falconer (of any level of experience) can begin trolling the back roads and lonely farmlands of their home state at dawn. Hungry people watching the power lines as they sip their coffee without ever looking down at it. I explain it in more detail here in this Guardian Article I wrote last fall, if you are interested in the details. I have spent hours a day outside watching for the bird that will become my roommate.