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Welcome tea lovers to another addition of Tea On Tuesday. Last time I wrote I was telling you all about my dear husband, and his gift for gardening. Shortly after completing the last post, we drove out to the farm where Dan grew up. This amazing place has been taking my breath away for 14 years now, the amount of time Dan and I have been married. Dan’s mother is an avid gardner. Dan’s father was a farmer. This is where my DH gets his giftedness for making things grow. He takes his gardening very seriously! And it is possible for him to lose his Christianity for a few fleeting moments if a deer dares to come nibble on the tender leaves of his spinach plants.
I titled this post “The Farmers Mother”, but more accurately it could be called ”The Farmers Mothers Garden”, because, as any smart tea lady knows, it would be impolite to actually write a blog post about my mother in law. Her garden is her pride and joy, and it shows in every corner. She has rescued a great many forelorn plants and given them a chance to live and grow and bloom. And Lordy, how they do bloom! But the pictures tell the story better than I ever could. So please enjoy this pictoral tour of the farm that Dan grew up on.
- Flowers near the house
The "Kitchen garden" which didn't get planted this year
The vegetable garden is surrounded by flowers
I love this view of the barn
This side of the garden is twice as big as Dan's garden, for only one person!!
A rather impressive vegetable garden don't you think?
Stunning Tiger Lilies. Looking forward to doing a painting of these.
Beauty in every direction
No sprinklers here. Watering is done the old fashioned way, irrigating with shovels.
Stepping into the vegetable garden which is hidden by lush vegetation including cherry trees and raspberry bushes
Every farm should have a big willow tree and a swimming pond.
- Breathtaking views from the yard to the farm
May you bloom wherever you are planted!
Blessings-
Tea Lady Darla
Welcome to another additon of Tea On Tuesday. Today I am sipping Orange Pineapple Black Tea from my dining room perch, and enjoying another lovely Central Oregon day. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wondered how on earth I arrived here in Central Oregon. I am a Southern California girl at heart, who transplanted at a young age to Southern Nevada. The Las Vegas area, where I spent most of my growing up years, is a desert. The only thing that grows there is cactus, Oleander bushes, and weeds. I had never seen snow. And animals don’t just graze in peoples front yards.
Yeah, it’s a different world where I grew up. A home cooked meal meant going to The Railroad Pass Casino for their Sunday afternoon smorgasborg. Taking a hike meant driving to the Meadows Mall and looking for a new pair of shoes in air conditioned comfort. How I arrived here in Oregon is one of God’s many mysteries. But from the start, it has been a bit like landing on another planet. And 15 years later, I’m still scratching my head trying to figure it out.
I married an Oregon farm boy, who grew up and became a preacher, and later went into teaching and coaching. This means he knows literally every person in town, (even if he can’t always remember their names). He is very friendly, energetic, generous, involved in everything, (and forgetful).
I consider myself to be a tight person. I have a small circle of close friends I’m fairly tight with. And I’m cordial, but not overly personable, with everyone else. This makes me look like a snob next to Mr. Congeniality, who continually volunteers us for any, and all, community events. He is an extrovert in every sense of the word. I prefer to be left alone much of the time. I have plenty personal activites that keep me happily occupied all day long. But more often than not, I keep busy assisting my husband with some of his activities.
Let’s take for instance farming/gardening. My husband grew up on a farm, so farming seems to be in his blood in a powerful way. One thing I had to learn was that farmers get very attached to their little plots of land. And they would really prefer to never move. Ever. They’d sooner sell their own body parts, than to relocate.
The farmer engages in weekly weed wars
Last summer I shared my gardening adventures here in a series of posts titled ” The Zucchini Chronicles”. Several women commented on how lucky I was to have all that zucchini. Bah, humbug. Only a woman who has never been married to a farmer would dare to say that. The growing season in Oregon is very short. So while the idea of having a lovely little garden to go out and pick and choose all the fresh vegetables I want, any time I want, sounds deliciously inviting, the reality is that in a stretch of about 6 weeks, we will harvest about 250 pounds of zucchini. A variety of lettuce and spinach will also be brought in at the rate of 6-8 heads per week. Corn…oh mercy, we get a lot of corn. Carrots, potatoes, onions, peas, beans, broccoli, cauliflower, yadda, yadda. All of these things are good things in moderation. But they can be overwhelming when they all come on at once. We have one refrigerator. The produce drawer is broke from all the weight of the produce. And this is just the beginning. Last year, Dan planted an orchard as well, so we could have peaches, and plums, and apples, and pears too.
What to do with all that stuff? Many people have suggested canning. Yippee-Cay-yae! Think of all the time I could spend doing something I have absolutely no interest in. Now don’t get me wrong, because I love to cook. And I love fresh fruits and vegetables, in moderation. But there are only two of us living here. A thousand square foot garden, plus an orchard is a lot of food to consume for 2 people during a 6 week harvest. I have learned to make pies. (I’d rather make cake and cookies). But farm boys eat pie. Lots of pie. That’s why he planted an orchard, so I could make more pie.
And yes, we have learned that some produce is freezable. But freezing produce is also time consuming. There is a process of cleaning, drying, blanching, separating, freezing, removing from freezer, and transferring to Food Saver Bags, removing air, and re-freezing.
Anxiously awaitning another zucchini harvest
One of the things Dan likes to do with produce is decorate, especially if there is company coming. I will be busy in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning, setting tables, etc. I usually like to lay food out on the counter, buffet style, and let guests help themselves. About 5 minutes before showtime, when there is nothing left to do but make sure the toilet seat is down and clean, I walk swiftly through the kitchen and find that suddenly a harvest has appeared on the counter, and the buffet food has been ”adjusted” accordingly. Half dozen heads of corn, a couple heads of lettuce, and 3 dirt covered onions have mysteriously appeared, as if part of the buffet line. Earwigs are scampering in all directions. The doorbell rings.
This is the life of the farmers wife. It is a good life, albeit frustrating at times. Thank God, the season is short. This too shall pass. In the meantime, I’ll grin and bear it, while I throw another pie in the oven. Below is my recipe for French Rhubarb Pie.
French Rhubarb Pie
3 cups rhubarb, diced 3/4 cup flour
1 tsp vanilla 1/3 cup margarine
1 TB flour 1/2 cup brown sugar
1 cup sugar 1 9 inch unbaked pie shell.
1 egg
Combine Rhubarb with next 4 ingredients, (left column). Toss until well mixed and spoon into pie shell.
Combine the next 3 ingredients, (right column), mix well until crumbly. Sprinkle over rhubarb filling.
Bake at 400 for 10 minutes, then turn oven down to 350, and bake 40 minutes longer. A quick, easy, (and delicious way), to utilize your rhubarb. Rhubarb really doesn’t freeze that well.
Want more recipes? I post recipes on two other sites. Check out www.sconeyisland.net and http://gatheringtimes.shutterfly.com
Blessings-
Tea Lady Darla
