From the back porch - November 29, 2020

 Yes, it's too cold to be blogging on the back porch, but I'm doing it, anyway.  It's not quite cold enough to freeze my coffee in the cup.

I just put a quiche in the oven.  It's made from left-over smoked turkey, green onions, and various cheeses that I found in the 'fridge that didn't have mold on them.  

Yesterday, we did the final harvest from the vegetable garden - three cabbages, three heads of broccoli, and one scrawny white carrot.  Night-time temperatures are supposed to drop below freezing this week, and we did not want to risk losing those beautiful vegetables.  We gave Nanny one of the cabbages and two of the small broccoli heads.  I'll probably fry one of the cabbages tonight for dinner, spiked with the rest of the smoked turkey.

The brussels sprouts weren't big enough to fool with, so I buried them in pine needles, hoping they'll survive the cold temperatures this week and produce sprouts big enough to eat.

I was so bored yesterday that I made a gnome out of an old gourd, some skewers, and an old sweater.  

His nose is a "footie" stuffed with polyester filling.  His feet are air-dry clay, covered with felt "boots."  His beard and hair are faux fur that I ordered for some project last year and never got around to doing.  I painted green and white stripes on his skewer legs to make them look like striped socks, but they don't show much under the fur around the bottom of his pants.  

He's not very stable, and fell over backwards in the green paint I was using for the stripes.  It left a thumb-print-sized spot on his butt.  Making the most out of a bad situation, I thumb-printed green polka-dots all over the sweater.  Don't tell anybody it was an accident.  ;)

 

The Husband texted the picture to The Grandchildren last night, with the comment, "We don't have an Elf on the Shelf; we have a Gnome in the Home."

He thinks he's a poet.  ;)

Leftovers - November 27, 2020

 Thanksgiving dinner went off without a hitch (assuming one of us didn't catch or spread covid).

The ancient turkey from the freezer was perfectly fine, and tasty.  Whew!  I saved the carcass and will boil the remaining meat off of it today for a turkey pot pie, or something.  

Nanny was anxious about her cornbread dressing, having not made any in several years.  It was fine, too!

My sister-in-law, a nurse, was working and couldn't be there, but we fixed her a to-go box for her supper.  Several months ago, I accidentally bought a package of styrofoam to-go boxes (thinking I was buying big, divided trays), and they have been the handiest things to have around.  I took the whole package to Nanny's, and we all filled them up with the left-overs.  

Just after we came home from Nanny's, my son texted me to ask if I could spare a jar of cucumber relish to go with the purple hull peas they were cooking for their dinner.  I dug a jar out of the pantry, and we took it to him.  

About 8 p.m., The Husband and I tackled some of the left-overs we'd brought home.  I'd been too full for dessert after dinner, but I'd brought home two slices of pecan pie and two slices of chocolate pie, and I had my slice of pecan pie and a left-over crescent roll for supper.

We'll be having our to-go Thanksgiving dinners for supper tonight.

Thanksgiving - November 26, 2020

 

It's a tad chilly on the porch this morning, but not windy, so I think I can hang out here for a while.

I got up early to put the turkey in the oven.  This is a smoked turkey that someone gave us a couple of years ago.  It's been in the freezer ever since, and I told The Husband that if we're ever going to eat it, now's the time.  I took it out to thaw last Sunday.  The package said that smoked turkeys are usually served cold, but we want it warmed.  My instinct was to put it in the oven at a low temperature and warm it for a long time.  So thirty minutes ago, I took it out of the fridge, cut off the packaging, wrapped it in foil, and stuck it in a 190 degree oven.  Then I got to thinking . . . maybe an extended low temp warming isn't safe.  I googled it, and sure enough, that's not how it's done, so I took the turkey out of the oven and put it back in the refrigerator.  I'll warm it at a higher temperature closer to time to eat it.

Thanksgiving Day is a little sad for me because my father died on Thanksgiving in 2008.  Thanksgiving has not been the same since.  This morning, after I'd put the turkey in the oven, I sat down to look at Facebook while I drank my first cup of coffee, and I saw a post from a niece who lives in Texas.  Ordinarily, she would have been here for Thanksgiving, and we would all be gathering at her father's house for a meal.  Her post showed a photograph of a pie crust in a pie pan, ready for pumpkin pie filling.  My mother's rolling pin was in the picture, and that made me sad, too.  

Our Thanksgiving dinner party has shrunk back down to 5.  One of the nephews and his girlfriend aren't coming because the girlfriend may have been exposed to covid at work.

I am so tired of this virus and all the worry it causes.  My grandchildren came bursting through my front door last night and ran straight to me for a hug, and my first thought was, "Don't get in their faces."  Sad.  Just sad.

But I am going to try to shake it off and enjoy this day.  Nanny's making dressing, pecan pie, and the broccoli salad (that I love) with broccoli from our garden.  I've made a strawberry pretzel salad and some candied sweet potatoes.  There'll be some good eating around here today.

From the back porch - November 25, 2020

 Well, tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  Our 3-person dinner has expanded to a 7-person dinner, with the addition of a brother-in-law, two grown nephews, and a girlfriend.  Last night, Nanny and I discussed game plans to keep everyone safe.  She and I are going to serve the food buffet-style.  She has two tables - one in the breakfast nook near the kitchen, and one in the dining room.  We should be able to spread out.  Nevertheless, The Husband and I may fix "to-go" plates and bring them back to our house to eat.  

I have to go to work for a while this morning to tie up some loose ends, then there'll be the inevitable trip to the grocery store for stuff I forgot.  I'll come straight home from the store and start cooking.  My assignments are a sweet potato casserole, a strawberry pretzel salad, and the turkey.  The turkey is a smoked turkey and just needs to be warmed.  I'll get up early tomorrow morning and stick him in a low oven.

Sweet potatoes always make me think of The Husband's paternal grandmother, Mama Jewell.  At her house one day, as she, Nanny, and I were sitting around a table talking about sweet potato pies, I commented that sweet potatoes pies are a chore because sweet potatoes are so hard to peel.  Nanny agreed.  Mama Jewell said, "Boil 'em, first."  It was like a light bulb went off in my head.  Apparently, Nanny had the same reaction, for she exclaimed, "Jewell, you could've told me that 40 years ago!"  

Busy Saturday - November 22, 2020

 

I intended to be a slacker yesterday, but The Husband woke up with ants in his pants, and we ended up working, inside the house and outside, all day long.

After breakfast, I brought my mandolin out to the back porch to practice.  I'd barely tuned it up when I saw The Husband coming out of the shed, carrying some boards.  He said he was about to re-assemble the bed we'd taken down in a spare bedroom when The Granddaughters moved in back in September.  I laid the mandolin aside and went to help him, for assembling that canopy is a two-person job.  Once we'd put the room back together, I came back out to the porch and picked up the mandolin again.

A few minutes later, The Husband came out and cranked up the 4-wheeler.  He'd seen that a tree had fallen in the soybean field behind the house and wanted to make sure it wouldn't be in the way of the combine.  While he was gone, I had a few minutes to practice, but he came back home fairly quickly, went back to the shed, and dragged out a wooden pallet that I've saved for some yet-to-be-determined project.  When I asked him what he was doing, he said he was trying to rig up something to drag behind the 4-wheeler to gather up the pine needles that have blanketed a long section of Nanny's driveway.  

Two big pine trees stand alongside Nanny's driveway, and they shed loads of needles and pinecones in the gravel driveway and in the yard.  It drives Nanny crazy, and every year she gets out there with a rake and black plastic lawn bags.  It takes her days to rake it all up.  Personally, I'd leave them and let Mother Nature deal with them, but Nanny is determined, and is no longer physically up to the task.  So I put the mandolin aside and went to help.

We have a leaf sweeper.  It is a non-motorized thing, intended to be pulled behind a lawnmower.  I suggested that we try the leaf sweeper instead of the pallet.  We attached it to the 4-wheeler, but it didn't work; the pine needles in the driveway have been compacted by traffic, and the leaf sweeper wouldn't pick them up, even if I loosened them with a rake.  We ended up raking the pine needles into piles and manually stuffing them into the hopper on the leaf sweeper.  During this exercise, The Husband said he believed it would be easier to rake them into the bucket on the tractor (any excuse to drive the tractor, you know).  So he cranked up the tractor and drove it down the driveway.  Nanny and I raked the needles into the bucket, and while The Husband carted them away, we raked up another pile and manually stuffed them into the leaf sweeper hopper.  Altogether, between the tractor and the leaf sweeper, we carted off about 10 loads of pine needles, which we dumped onto the low spot in the vegetable garden.

I don't know for sure that it wasn't a mistake to dump them on the garden.  I've read that it will make the soil too acidic, and I've also read that it won't affect the pH level by much.  In any case, they're there now, laying on top of the soil. 

The tractor still had the bush-hog attached to it, so The Husband mowed the garden, except for where the cabbages, broccoli, brussels sprouts, and turnip greens are growing.  I am excited to report that all of those things are growing well.  Nanny intends to use one of the broccoli heads to make a broccoli salad for Thanksgiving.  I don't know what we'll do with all that cabbage!  Give some of it away, I reckon.

Both Nanny and I had ordered groceries to be picked up, mine between 2 and 3, and Nanny's between 3 and 4.  We timed it so that we got to the grocery store at 3, and picked up both of our orders at the same time.  

The Husband was running the leaf blower in our yard when we got back from the grocery store.  I kind of hated that he did that, for now we have less of a chance of hearing the armadillo shuffling through the leaves at night.  (I am determined to "off" that sucker, for he is digging up our yard something fierce.)

I puttered around the yard a little bit, noticing that the hardy hibiscus plant that The Husband gave me for Mother's Day this year was loaded with seed pods.  Some of them were empty, so I know that there are seeds under the thick leaves in the flower bed.  I pinched off the remaining dry pods and emptied them into a bag, and will try to sprout them indoors come January.

It was starting to get dark by this time, and my stomach was growling, for we hadn't stopped for lunch.  I'd been craving a hamburger for two weeks, and our oldest granddaughter is now working as the hostess as a local hamburger joint, so we called in an order and went to get it.  I told The Husband, "Take some cash so that we can tip the hostess."  It was kind of heart-breaking, and also kind of cool, to see her working to make money for Christmas gifts.  She's a really cool kid.

Cinnamon Rolls - November 21, 2020

 

Thursday night, while watching a show on our local PBS channel, I saw a story about kolaches (basically, danishes or hand pies).  Yesterday, curious about the dough, I looked up recipes, and in the process I stumbled across recipes for cinnamon rolls.  I printed a kolache recipe and a cinnamon roll recipe.

Now, cinnamon rolls are not my favorite sweets, but The Husband loves them, so yesterday afternoon, while the last tote bag was in the embroidery machine, I stirred up a batch of dough.  The dough seemed far too wet and sticky, so I added another cup of flour, thinking I must have mis-counted on the way to FOUR cups.  It still seemed a little sticky, but I am no yeast dough expert, so I moved on with the process.  

To my surprise, the dough rose and doubled, though it took a little longer than the recipe said.  I floured the counter and rolled out the dough (which still seemed a little sticky), added the cinnamon/sugar/butter mixture, and attempted to roll the whole business into a nice, tight log.  Of course, the dough stuck to the counter.  Instead of a nice, tight log, I had a limp, gooey mess that stuck to the knife as I tried to slice it into individual rolls.  I could barely turn loose of the dough as I moved each "roll" to the baking pan. 

I thought, "What the heck, they'll taste good, regardless of how they look," and I set them aside to rise again.  When the rising time was up, I took a picture of them and sent them to a friend who said she'd perfected cinnamon rolls during the pandemic shut-down.  A few minutes later, my phone rang.  When I answered it, I heard, "Pitiful.  Just pitiful.  Send me another picture after you bake them."

Okay.

Yeah, they could've baked a couple minutes longer.

But they tasted good.  :)

From the back porch - November 20, 2020

 

If the weather were a couple of degrees cooler this morning, I couldn't sit out here without a sweater.

Today is Friday, the one day of the week when I don't really have to be at work at a specific time.  For that very reason, it is hard to get my rear end in gear on Fridays.  So I'm going to sit here and drink an extra cup of coffee and enjoy the quiet for a while.

Within my line of sight is a raised bed in which I have tried for several years to grow vegetables.  It doesn't get quite enough sun for things like tomato plants.  Right now, the bed holds a moderately successful patch of greens that I thought was lettuce.  One night last week, while craving a salad but having no lettuce in the refrigerator, I came out and cut some leaves from what I thought was lettuce.  I washed them and chopped them and tasted them, and they turned out to be turnip greens, not lettuce.  Here's something I didn't know:  raw turnip greens are SPICY.  I did not make a salad that night.

Coming up with something for dinner every . . . single . . . night . . . is such a chore.  The first thing I do when I come home from work every day is open the refrigerator and/or freezer to see if anything jumps out.  Yesterday, a package of frozen deer burger meat literally fell out of the freezer.  For over a week, it has fallen out every time I've opened the door.  I'm not all that crazy about deer meat, so I've been stuffing it back in, only to have it fall out the next time.  Yesterday, I decided to cook it to stop that nonsense.  All I knew to make with it was chili.  So I thawed it and sliced open the package and . . . yuck . . . game-y smell.  With other cuts of deer, I've soaked them in water until the smell diminishes, but I had never done that with ground deer.  I decided to give it a try, and it worked.  After rinsing it several times and draining it in a mesh strainer, it didn't smell so game-y.  I cooked it, slow and low,  with garlic, onions, and spices, then added tomatoes and beans.  It was good!  

Tonight, we shall have chili dogs with the left-overs.  :)

I made good progress yesterday with my tote-bag project.  Only three more bags to go.  I'll knock those out when I get home from work today.  Hopefully, I can get them in the mail to my friend next week, along with a couple of surprises.  I think she doesn't read this blog, so I'll tell you about one of the surprises.

My friend raises Golden Retrievers.  She regularly has four dogs living in her house.  A week or two ago, she was complaining that they were all blowing their coats at the same time, and she was having a hard time keeping her house free of dog hair.  She said she vacuums up enough fur to make a whole dog every day.  One time, when she and I were both interested in felting wool, she sent me a freezer bag full of dog hair.  I used it to make some felted dog-hair beads, which I then used to make a bracelet and some earrings, and I sent them to her, mostly as a joke.  Incredibly, she actually wears them to dog events.  Yesterday, I ordered her a drop-spindle and will tell her that she can use it to spin yarn out of all that dog hair.  ;)  She'll probably try it!  I just hope she doesn't turn around and mail me a skein of dog-hair yarn.  If she does, I'll knit a hat and mail it right back to her.

A Cancelled Thanksgiving - November 19, 2020

 

I hated to do it, but I texted my children this morning and told them that we're not doing Thanksgiving dinner at my house this year.  (One of the smartasses replied with a picture of Jeffrey Dahmer that said, "Nobody's going to tell me I how many of my family I can have for Thanksgiving this year.")  

It probably didn't come as much of a surprise to them, for we've NEVER done Thanksgiving dinner at my house (okay, maybe once).  For the past few years, my sons have spent Thanksgiving with their wives' families, and The Husband and I have done Thanksgiving with my siblings.  I and my siblings are wary of hosting or attending extended family gatherings this year because of covid.  The Husband and I may have a meal with Nanny, if she wants to eat with us.

To tell the truth, I'm not all that upset about it.  Holidays are hard on those who do the shopping, cooking, and cleaning.  I bet I'm not alone in feeling a little relief over not having to do it this year. 

We have a smoked turkey breast in the freezer.  I'll probably stir up a small pan of cornbread dressing, and  open a jar of good home-canned green beans from our garden.  Might even make a pecan pie.  

I'm dreading the decision about Christmas.  Ever since The Husband and I have been married, Nanny has hosted a big Christmas breakfast at her house, with all the kids and grandkids and anybody else that wants to join us.  Christmas breakfast at Nanny's is a big deal.  It will break Nanny's heart not to do it, but we are going to try our best to talk her out of it.  

On a happier note, it looks like my embroidery machine is finally fixed.  The old man from the repair shop called Monday and said it was ready.  The Husband picked it up for me Tuesday so that nobody would go to jail.  I set it up yesterday and tried it out, and it appeared to be working right.  Before bedtime, I whipped out three of the dozen bags left to do.  

But that particular repair shop won't be seeing my face anymore.

Last of the Tomatoes - November 17, 2020

 

This year's tomato crop is officially gone.  This weekend, The Husband picked all of the tomatoes that remained on the vines - a few pounds of green ones and a few almost-ripe ones.  I made 4 pints of green tomato pickle Sunday afternoon.  We ate the last two ripe ones with our Hamburger Helper for supper tonight.

The sewing machine repair shop called earlier today and said my machine was ready.  The Husband picked it up for me so I wouldn't have to throttle the old man that runs the place.  I haven't tried it, yet.  It better sew properly, is all I can say.

As I was writing this, I heard the armadillo rustling.  He can't sneak around now, with the leaves a foot deep on the yard.  I got up and stuck my head in the kitchen and asked The Husband if he wanted to shoot the armadillo.  He went and got the rifle, and I grabbed the spotlight.  Of course it wasn't charged up.  I had to run find a flashlight, and while I was gone, the armadillo went down in the gully, and our pitiful little flashlight wasn't enough to light him up.  The Husband has put the rifle back where it belongs, and now I hear the armadillo rustling again at the far edge of the yard.

Ima let him go for one more day.  My feet are cold, and I can see my breath between me and the laptop screen.  It's time to go in for the night.

Irked x 400 - November 15, 2020

 

Yesterday, I got so mad I thought my head was going to explode.

At the end of September, I took my Babylock Aventura sewing machine to the repair shop (at the store where I bought it about 4 years ago) because the bobbin thread sensor wasn't stopping the machine when the bobbin was empty.  This is a single-needle machine with an embroidery unit that detaches so that the machine can be used as a "regular" sewing machine.  I use it mostly for embroidery because I have an older machine that I can use for regular sewing.  I've had the machine serviced regularly, and it costs about $300.00 every time.  After the first service trip, I learned that I need to take the embroidery unit so that it can be cleaned and serviced, as well.

Last year, when I had this machine serviced, it made an unusual whining noise when I brought it home.  It sewed okay for a week, then it began to make a grinding noise and the motor would stall for a few seconds before it began to sew.  I took it back to the shop and told them that it had been making a strange whining noise ever since the servicing.  I went back to the car to get the embroidery unit, and when I came back in the store, I overhead the two repairmen mocking me:  "'It's making a funny noise,' like that's supposed to tell us anything."  I ignored the mocking.  We plugged up the machine, and when it powered up, it made the grinding noise and completely locked up.  Scared the repairmen.  They ended up installing a new motor, since the machine was still under warranty.

So, think back to September.  I was in the middle of embroidering 24 tote bags for a friend.  I would start the machine and walk away to do other things, and come back to find that the bobbin had run out of thread, and the machine had sewed and sewed but had not anchored the stitches.  Halfway through the project, I gave up and took the machine to the shop to have them fix the bobbin sensor.  The owner of the shop asked if I wanted the machine serviced, said that it would cost only a few dollars more.  He also said I didn't need to leave the embroidery unit if it was working okay, so I brought it back home.  A few days later, the shop called and said my machine was ready, and I went to get it.   

I did not immediately try the machine.  Our son and his family had just moved in with us, and the children were working on a science project in my sewing room.  A few days later, I came down with "the crud" and for three weeks did not feel up to sewing.  Once I was feeling better, I started back to work on the tote bag project.  When the first color finished sewing, I noticed that the bobbin thread was showing on top of the fabric (not supposed to happen).  The machine instruction manual indicated that there was a tension problem, either with the needle thread or the bobbin thread.  I adjusted both tensions, one at a time.  Didn't help. 

I called the repair shop, knowing that they might give me trouble since it had been a month since they'd serviced the machine.  I explained that I'd been sick and had just now tried the machine.  They said bring it to them and they'd look at it.  So I packed up the embroidery machine and the embroidery unit and took it back to the shop (which is 44 miles from my house).  I also took before/after samples of the stitching.  

When I arrived at the shop, they asked me if I was using "Finishing Touch" bobbin thread.  I said no, whereupon they began to blame the embroidery thread for the problem.  They said that Babylock recommends ONLY Finishing Touch thread, and that when they service machines, they set the tension for that specific thread.  I told them that I had been using another brand of thread for three years and had never had a problem with it.  They asked if the machine sewed properly for "regular" sewing.  I replied that I never used it for "regular" sewing - which was not *quite* true, since on rare occasions I do use it for the built-in decorative stitches that my other machine doesn't have.  They said they could set the tension for the bobbin that I use.  They then said that it could be the embroidery unit, since I'd not had it serviced; that would cost an additional $50.00.  I told them to go ahead.

They called Friday and said the  machine was ready.  I went to get it yesterday.  I brought it home and set it up, and before I put on the embroidery unit, I decided to do some decorative stitching on a receiving blanket that I was making for a baby shower happening that afternoon.  The stitching looked fine on top, but when I flipped it over, it was clear that the bobbin tension was wrong.  The bobbin tension was so tight that the bobbin would not spin when I pulled the thread.  I finished the receiving blanket on my other machine, went to the shower, then came home and loaded up the machine and the embroidery unit and took it back to the shop.

The owner of the shop went on the attack the minute I walked through the door.  It was the thread, he insisted, not faulty servicing.  He said if I would just use the recommended thread, the problem would be solved.  He could not explain why the same thread had worked fine for three years.  He about lost his mind when I told him to throw in a spool and I'd try it.  

We almost got into a shouting match.  He said they couldn't keep working on the machine for free.  I told him it wasn't "free," for it was costing me gas and 2 hours of driving time every time I had to bring the machine back.  I finally told him, "Call me when the machine is sewing right," and turned around and walked out.

The Husband will have to go pick up the machine when it's ready to keep me from going to jail.

Irked - November 6, 2020

 I am irked about several things this morning.

First, I am irked that I cannot get over this snotty nose.  

Second, I am irked that the embroidery machine (on which I spent $300 to have serviced a couple of weeks ago) is not sewing correctly.  A couple of days after I brought the machine home from the shop, I came down sick and have not felt like fooling with embroidering, so this is the first test of the machine.  I had to drive 40 miles to take it to the shop, 40 miles to pick it up, and now I'm going to have to do it all over again.

Third, and most importantly, I am irked about the way the president and his minions are behaving over the election.  He took to the air in the middle of the night after the election, when less than half the votes had been counted, and declared himself the winner.  Yesterday, one of his minions had the gall to shame Joe Biden for saying it looked like he (Biden) was going to win when the bulk of the votes had been counted and it appeared that Biden was in the lead.  Now, the president is claiming, without evidence, that the election officials are cheating and is filing lawsuits.  Two of the lawsuits have been dismissed, already, because he presented zero evidence of his cheating claims.  And his supporters are going nuts, believing everything he says.  Of course, this will not be the end.  There will be ceaseless appeals.  

Worse, there will be violence.  Already, a man has been arrested in Philadelphia for allegedly planning to wreak havoc with an automatic weapon in the vote-counting center.  

People have lost their minds.

From the back porch - Election Day, November 3, 2020

What a beautiful day it is.  Though I thought my back-porch-sittin' days were over for the year, it looks like there's one more.  Except for the potato tub glaring in the picture, isn't this a lovely view?

But I'm worried.

This is Election Day.  I fear that there will be all sorts of nonsense happening around the country, today and for days to come.  I fear that our election process has been meddled with in ways that we don't know.  

Our cable TV went out last night.  That might be a good thing, in a way, but that worries me, too.  We, as a nation, are too dependent on our electronic devices, and too trusting of the people who come into our homes through them.  

I need to stop thinking about these things today.

My older son has been sick with strep throat and now has covid.  He says that he cannot taste or smell, and that he is incredibly tired.  When I asked him if there was anything I could do for him, he asked for chicken noodle soup and meat loaf.  I stopped at the grocery store for ingredients on my way to work.  I hadn't been there an hour when The Boss called to report that she is feeling poorly and is not coming in, and she told me that I might as well go home, too (I haven't been feeling so great, myself, these past couple of weeks).  So I am at home.  Home-made chicken noodle soup is simmering on the stove.  I added a few red pepper flakes to the broth, hoping that if my son can't taste it, he can at least feel it.  ;)  When the ground beef thaws, I'll stir up the meat loaf.  I hope he's physically able to walk to the porch to get it, because I ain't going inside his house any time soon!

Butterbean crop - November 2, 2020

 

The butterbean crop was disappointing.  It yielded about two cups of shelled beans, which I gave to Nanny because I'd planted those beans for her.  If I'd planted a month earlier, or if the cold temperatures had held off for a couple of weeks longer, it would have been better.  There were a lot of pods on the vines that were not filled out.

I didn't harvest the butter peas.  Even fewer of those pods were filled out.  I decided to just leave them alone and see what happens.  After all, this is west Tennessee.  It might be 30 degrees today, and 70 degrees tomorrow.  If we could get a few more weeks of warm temperatures, maybe the pods will have time to fill out.

Butterbean pickin' - November 1, 2020

Last night, the weatherman was talking freezing temperatures for tonight, so I'm getting the butterbeans today.  They've been in the ground since the first week of August, so we're very close to the 90-day maturity that the seed package promised. 

Instead of picking the pods off the vines, I just cut the vines down and piled them in my wagon.  The garden is muddy, and I'm not over my cold, yet, and my nose is running like a wet-weather spring.  The vines are spread out in my driveway, drying off, where it'll be much easier to pick the beans off the vines.  I expect that there won't be many beans that are mature enough to shell.  

I didn't get the butter peas, yet, but I'll get them before the day is over.  

My younger son and his family found a house to rent until they can find one to buy, and they began moving this weekend.  They spent the night in their new place last night, and I suppose they've officially moved, except for scattered stuff still at my house, which they'll get as they need it.  I'm going to miss having them around.