The days are drawing in, and winter's beginning to feel like it's snapping at our heels. I’m desperately trying
to squeeze in as many solar-dehydrating hours as possible before Autumn rolls
over. The fruit is the main priority –
mostly apples, peachcots and peaches – being joined by whatever herbs that can
be accommodated depending on the weather forecast. Still in use is the Sunflair, as this can
reach higher temperatures than ‘Solly’.
Generally the fruit starts off in the Sunflair before being transferred
into Solly to complete the dehydration.
I’ve also had a bash at drying rhubarb and celery, which shrink to tiny
weeny pieces. I’m looking forward to
spending some time re-hydrating and seeing what everything reverts to.
The fruit is coming to an end, really now just the peaches
are left to finish off the season. There
were several conference pears hidden amongst the high branches, despite the
storm that wreaked havoc with unripe fruit.
Hopefully next year will be significantly better. We’ve had a go with my new fruit picker
grabby-baskety thing that was a Christmas present. Peter ingeniously attached it onto the pole
of an old landing net, so it’s extendable.
It beats the alternative of standing under a tree and shaking it, and being
pelted with falling fruit. The pigs are
still doing pretty well from orchard windfalls and gifted rotten fruit from a
range of sources.
The honey yield total was around 24 litres all up, similar
to last year. Luckily the second honey
raid yielded loads more honey than the first harvest would have suggested. I’m planning to make more mead with the
residue of last year’s honey, and also have a go with this new honey. I might even get it formally tested for tutin
this time. Previously I’ve relied on the
old ‘test it on myself’ method, which has in fact been totally successful in
that I’m still alive. I may not always
be so fortunate…
The chooks are just going off the lay, and I’m facing the
prospect of buying eggs. They’re always
a disappointment, even the organic free-range ones. It does make us realise how generally spoilt
we are on the egg front. Karyn often
brings food treats round for the chooks and the pigs (and for Maggie, though
these are deliberately selected to make her fart). She often goes home with eggs that she
assures me are shared by the family. I
reserve the biggest eggs for her son Greg, partly so that I can confirm with him they
are shared. Over time, these have become
fondly known as ‘Greg-eggs’, and there have been some right whoppers that must
have made the hen’s eyes water. The
photo shows (in reverse order) a normal sized egg, then a large egg, and finally one such colossus.
On the livestock front, not a lot has changed. The pigs are robust and grunty, and have nearly totally cleared their run of vegetation. The remaining greenery is tansy - a plant that is toxic to some creatures - probably very wise for them to avoid it.
The sheep are behaving and so, mostly, are the cows. Other than a penchant for damaging their water tank supply. Heracles and Hermes are no longer little things, and are quite able to stand their ground in a cattle-tussle.
Work continues to take up massive amounts of time, but I am
on a degree of countdown. I intend to
quit undergraduate teaching at the end of the year. That will leave me with a local permanent
contract for 2 days a week, plus several casual contracts. Hopefully that’ll be enough to keep the wolf
from the door, and should give me a fighting chance of getting myself together
for some market sales of solar-dried crops.
That’s the plan anyway. Maybe
it’ll just end up being an expensive hobby, but I’d like to give it a decent
crack nonetheless.
Sam is still hanging on at home, but is really really close
to running away with the army band.
Billy’s still doing kitchen work, and has been independently driving on
his Restricted Licence for a few weeks now.
Peter’s working his arse off in the newly set up Bottling Company, but
hopefully that’ll settle down as time progresses.
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