Shopping for Black

Due to an unexpected death in the family (not my sweetie), I will not be posting for a bit.

Three Years of Blogging

Three years (and one day) ago, I took a deep breath, put fingers to keyboard, and started this blog. I wanted to expand my participation in the online world beyond the discussion boards I was on, and I wanted to interact with a greater variety of people than those I saw locally. I also wanted to see if there was anyone out there interested in what I had to say.

Being a part of the online community has exposed me to a wide range of people, ideas, and viewpoints from around the world. I've shared commenting relationships with many other bloggers, corresponded with some - by email and snail mail, and even had the pleasure of meeting a handful in person. Whether I've met them in person or not, I count quite a few bloggers among my friends.

The past three years have seen a lot of changes in my life, and my writing often reflected these changes. I'm in the midst of a big change again, settling into our new home and making it a more user- and earth-friendly place to live. I hope you'll stick with me for however long I keep blogging, no matter what I choose to share.

You are, of course, free to leave at any time. If you do decide to leave - to quit reading my blog, please complete the following exit interview.

If you are not leaving, you can still answer the questions just for fun. After all, I am here for you as much as I am for myself, and my job is to amuse, educate, and inspire you.

Exit Interview for Readers Leaving this Blog

• What is your primary reason for leaving?


• Did anything trigger your decision to quit reading this blog?


• What did you like about this blog?


• What did you dislike about this blog?


• Are the blogger's attempts to be funny successful or annoying?


• What improvements would you suggest for this blog?


• Did your duties as a reader turn out to be as you expected?


• Were you happy with your pay, benefits and other incentives to read this blog?


• Did any blog policies or procedures make being a reader or leaving comments more difficult?


• Did you receive sufficient feedback about your comments?


• Did this blog help you to fulfill your reading goals?


• What improvements would you suggest for the management and organization of this blog?


• Based on your experience with this blog, what do you think it takes to succeed as a blogger?


• What do your new reading choices offer that this blog doesn't?


• Would you consider reading this blog again in the future?


• Would you recommend this blog to your friends or family?


• Can this blogger do anything to encourage you to stay?


• Do you have any tips to help me find your reading replacement?


• Do you have any other comments?

Spawn of Satan

Inspired by a new scifi/fantasy anthology: Must Love Hellhounds.

The dogs were barking louder and more insistently than usual.

“Damn it!” Frustrated with yet another interruption, I saved my work on the computer and headed to the living room. All this commotion was probably just in response to someone walking up the street. At worst, a loose dog was running across the yard again.

I had to check, though. What’s the point of having dogs that alert you to intruders, even far out on the street, if you ignore their alarms. Unfortunately, these alarms were going off pretty frequently lately and I wasn’t making much headway with my work.

Forcing myself to be calm rather than stomping to the front windows, I followed up on the latest canine crisis. Their barking was continuing longer than normal so I wasn’t going to be surprised to find someone standing in front of the gate. I peered out the windows.

Nothing. Not a soul in sight.

The dogs quieted down – after all, they had succeeded in getting my attention – but they were still on alert, eyes focused out the window. I checked carefully in the direction they were staring. Nope. Not a thing.

Angel jumped off the bench and ran into the bedroom; the danger must have headed that way. I followed and found her standing at the window, front paws up on the sill, staring intently down our little side street. Nothing was out there that I could see.

I laughed and straddled her with my legs. Her body was quivering with tension; she didn’t think the danger had passed. I thought I caught a glimpse of something – maybe a tail? – disappearing into the brush but it was too brief to get a good look.

We stood there for a minute. Suddenly a skinny coyote with a scraggly coat came trotting back up the street. Angel instantly went back on full alert. It paused to glance towards the fenced yard before turning into the driveway.

“Oh, boy,” I thought. “Angel is not going to like this.”

Her hackles quickly rose and her ruff expanded as big as a lion’s mane. Her ferocious barking meant to inform the coyote that a dog lived here, one that was not to be trifled with. The coyote didn’t even spare us a glance. It just trotted past the house and out of sight.

Angel dropped her front paws off the windowsill and looked at me reproachfully; “See, I told you there was danger. Why won’t you let me take care of it? That was the Spawn of Satan!”

I wondered again what drives her deep-seated hatred of coyotes. I like coyotes, personally, and hope this one will stick around to eat some of the rabbits and quail that are sure to raid our garden.

There are no coincidences in life, though. The pound picked Angel up in this area almost three years ago. Maybe she has a history with coyotes, possibly even this very individual.

Or, maybe she knows something that we don’t. Her name is “Angel,” after all. Who better to recognize the Spawn of Satan?

I’d hate to think it were true; as I said, I like coyotes. Without them, we'd quickly be overrun with hungry rabbits and quail. Well, with any luck, maybe heaven and hell can manage to co-exist just a little longer.

Carrots in Cold Storage: An Experiment

Question

How long will carrots keep in the refrigerator and still be edible?


Background

Carrots started showing up in the CSA shares starting in December of last year. For several months, we got carrots every single week. The bunches were good-sized so it wasn't a surprise that I got behind on eating them. Cutting the greens off and keeping them wrapped up in a plastic bag in the produce drawer seemed to extend their life so I wasn't faced with the problem of tossing limp carrots into the compost pile regularly.

I didn't get around to preserving any. I don't particularly like pickled carrots except in combination with something else: sauerkraut, kimchi, pickled peppers, and so on. I haven't tried canning them because that would require using the pressure canner; quite frankly, this winter I just didn't have the energy to do that, especially with the chance of failure since I'm not experienced with pressure canning. And, I don't particularly like commercially canned carrots so my gut feeling was that I wouldn't like them done at home either. I could have dried some carrots but again, it seemed like a whole lot of work.

At some point (and I can't find the original post), Sharon talked about her efforts to store carrots over time without a root cellar. She'd been unhappy with some methods and had finally, if I remember right, resorted to just tossing them in an ice chest on her porch. That way, there was no digging through wet sand to check on them regularly. Someone else piped up in the comments, or in their own blog post, that they were also experimenting with ways to store carrots.


Method

As the bags of carrots piled up in the refrigerator, I decided to try an experiment. So far, I had successfully kept carrots for several weeks with no loss in flavor or texture. Could they be stored longer, much longer?

Well, only one way to find out. You might recall that we had a second refrigerator that we sometimes used in our garage. It was kept at the warmest temperature setting possible to use the least amount of energy. I took two bunches of carrots with the greens cut off, closed them up tight in a plastic grocery bags, and tucked them into a produce drawer with the humidity set for low. I made sure the carrots were nice and dry before storing them.


Experiment In Progress

The carrots sat there for weeks. When retrieving other things from the refrigerator, I'd peek at the bag to see if it looked like the carrots were rotting. Week after week, they looked fine. Finally, the flow of carrots slowed at the CSA and I began pinching a carrot occasionally from my bag. Amazingly, they were in fine shape.

When I loaded them in the ice chest for the move to our new place, I noticed that some were starting to sprout from the top. Lately, I'd been noticing more and more of this sprouting, as well as some white root hairs along the length of some of them. Could this be due to the length of time the carrots were stored? Or, maybe the sunnier conditions of this time of year impacted them each time the refrigerator, now in the house rather than in a dark garage, was opened.


Results

It was time to conclude the experiment. I decided today would be a good time to salvage what I could. I had no idea whether a carrot with several inches of greenery sprouting from the top and white roots going to town would be any good to eat. Would they be bitter? Rotten? Woody?

Keeping them dry and enclosed in a bag (not perforated) seems to be important. Where a little moisture got in, one carrot did have a soggy tip that I cut off. All were easy to peel and didn't seem to have developed a really woody core.


If there's more green than you want in the center, or if it's gotten a little woody (these weren't bad), you can peel out the center and toss it to the dogs.


They looked like carrots after peeling and trimming. The real key would be the taste test. I planned to roast the carrots, all of them, to bring out their natural sweetness. Before putting them through the food processor, though (no time to cut by hand today), I would taste a bite from each one.

I ate a lot of carrot today. I was pleasantly surprised. Only one, out of all of them, was bitter and went directly into the compost bin. The rest were fine. Not as sweet as when they were fresh out of the ground, in most cases, but still full of carrot flavor. And there were a few with some noticeable sweetness left.


After roasting, the carrot flavor was more pronounced with that nice hint of additional sweetness. I'll be using some of them tonight in burrito filling but most will go in the freezer. Carrots won't figure prominently in the CSA shares again for months so I'll have to adapt to using frozen, roasted ones. Next year, perhaps I'll be set up to do some solar dehydrating.


Conclusions

I don't recall exactly when I put these carrots in the refrigerator. Based on when we started getting them, though, I'm pretty sure that I started this experiment towards the end of January. After almost four months in the refrigerator, the carrots were still edible. Tasty, even. If you have the space and do not have other cool storage options, this is one way you can store carrots for a few extra months.

Caffeine Dependence

Ruthie is kicking her Diet Dr. Pepper habit, again. Please don't assume that my emphasis on the "again" is a criticism; it's not. I can relate to her addiction and the difficulty in breaking it. Kicking the habit is tough because the dependence happens on multiple levels. In her case, and in mine with coffee, there is definitely a physical addiction to the caffeine. There are many methods for getting off caffeine but none are easy (no matter what I wrote about that in 2008).

With my coffee habit, and likely Ruthie's soda habit, psychological and emotional dependency make eliminating the addiction more difficult. Cutting it out of the daily routine leaves one feeling oddly empty and perhaps even a little lonely. That drink has been our friend, a friend now cruelly tossed out the door. In the past, it was welcomed with open arms and open lips. Purchasing, preparing, and consuming the beverage was an important part of the day, often with ritualistic significance and that's not something that's easy to just cut off cold turkey.

In fact, ten years ago I wrote about that ritualistic aspect of having my daily coffee. At the time, I did not own a coffee maker; it was my latest attempt to control the amount of coffee I drank. If I had to go out to get each cup of coffee, the inconvenience would limit my consumption to one cup per day. As you will see, though, by "cup" I do not mean eight measly ounces. Here is my ode to convenience store coffee from the year 2000.

The Ritual

Getting a cup of coffee has become a ritual, the process automatic. I don’t have to think about the steps anymore, but still find paying attention to each detail oddly soothing. My one daily trip to Circle K is relaxing, whether I go first thing in the morning or early in the evening. The ritual begins when I arrive in their parking lot.

Once the car is locked, with that ever-annoying “honk”, I slowly head to the door. While wrapping my fanny pack around my waist, hoping it conceals rather than emphasizes the ample belly, my eyes search for change on the ground. No matter what time of day or what store I go to, I always find at least one penny when I go to Circle K. As I walk into the store, I quickly glance among the feet in front of the counter, looking to see if the penny is there perhaps.

I once thrived on the hazelnut-flavored coffee, smooth with its low acidity. With the proper amount of sweetener and French Vanilla creamer, it tasted better to me than an expensive latte, even from the well-known chain popping up on every corner. Alas, my stomach will not tolerate this indulgence anymore and it writhes in pain even at the thought of drinking caffeinated coffee. I have adjusted my ritual to compensate for this development and now settle for the decaffeinated brew. It is sadly harsh in comparison to the velvety hazelnut, but it can be coaxed into a drinkable concoction.

Once in view, I scan the pots to be sure there is a suitable amount of seemingly fresh decaf. If not, I request a new pot be made, knowing this will delay me for a full 5 minutes while the new pot brews. Selecting the largest cup, a hefty 24 ounces, I meander to the coffee condiments carousel.

My poison of choice is Sweet ‘n Low and I accept no substitutes. It must be the pink packet or there is no point in continuing this ritual. My fingers deftly pick out four packets and hold them together tightly, rapidly flicking the bundle twice to shake all the powder to the bottom. A quick tear across the top opens them releasing a small white puff of fine powder. Holding them now with both hands, I shake this white miracle chemical into my dry cup. Flexing and twisting the packet bundle assures that every bit of sweetener trickles out. Snatching a long red plastic stirrer as I head over to the coffee pots, I am ready for the noxious brew. As the coffee hits the cup, the Sweet ‘n Low swirls around briefly before dissolving and disappearing.

The ritual took longer when I had to open a small stack of individual thimble-sized containers of creamer to lighten the color. Now, the stores have switched to bulk cream, dispensed in 4 flavors from “the cow”. To compensate for the loss of hazelnut flavor in choosing the decaf coffee, I use Hazelnut creamer as well as French Vanilla. I hold the cup under the nozzle of each flavor and push the button, holding it for a count of approximately 6. This varies as the rate of flow depends on the fullness of the creamer bag and whether the nozzle was cut at a thin or wide spot. After achieving the desired light color, I stir and taste. Usually it’s perfect, but once in a while, a quick additional shot of creamer is needed.

The ritual has almost come to an end. With the addition of a lid, white now for the larger size cup, I can pay and be on my way. Still looking for change on the ground or hidden among the small candies in front of the counter, I hand over my $1.28. What a small price to pay for a treat and relaxing break in my day.

I no longer buy convenience store coffee and load it up with chemical enhancers. I now prepare organic coffee at home in my French Press, using organic sugar, organic soymilk, and my Aerolatte to transform it into a sweet, smooth, and foamy concoction. I swear to you I'm not addicted, though. I can quit coffee anytime I want. Of course, I'll start drinking it again the moment you turn your back, but I can quit. Really, I can.*

*I will quit when TSHTF or after TEOTWAWKI, whichever comes first.

Time Off

The kitchen is not finished yet...


...there are boxes piled almost to the ceiling in the bedroom...


...and the office is a disaster zone, but...


...we were all worn out and needed a break this afternoon.


We brushed the dogs and hung the fur up for birds to use in their nests, relaxed, and watched old Northern Exposure episodes. There'll be plenty of time tomorrow to get the work done.

Hang It Up

After evaluating storage needs in various rooms, I decided to pick up a 5-tier steel shelf for the kitchen. I have others, in various sizes, scattered around the house. They are extremely durable - should last a lifetime - and the shelves can be adjusted to whatever height needed. I bought my first one years ago when I needed to store salvaged tile and grout for my dabblings in mosaic.

I wish I could tell you that I bought this one used, but they are rarely available. They are too useful! In six years of cruising thrift stores, yard sales, and craigslist, I've come across only two smaller ones (and bought them both).

As I unpacked three more boxes yesterday afternoon in the kitchen, the lack of drawer space once again frustrated me. I don't like the look of pegboard but perhaps it was the only way to deal with the problem. How else could I hang up the utensils and free up some space?


Hmm.....


Hanging...


Hooks....


Duh! Right next to the only place where the pegboard would fit was my new steel shelf. The same kind of shelving I used to have in the previous kitchen. The same kind that I hung a few "S" hooks on for a couple of hanging items.



After doing a couple loads of laundry at the laundromat this morning, I picked up some "S" hooks at the hardware store. I probably should have gotten larger ones that could hold more than one utensil each, but I like the less crowded look. There are a few heavier ones lower down that may be used for pots.

I only have one more box to unpack in the kitchen. Things are still cluttering the countertops as I try to figure out where to put them, but it's getting there. It's still hard for me to believe how long the unpacking is taking, but so many other things are demanding my time (projects, repairs, laundry...) that it will just have to take as long as it takes. I figure I'll be ready for a house-warming party by Fall. Maybe.

Corraling the Compost

After hours of cerebral work yesterday, a physical project was needed to balance the day. There was a long list of options, but the compost situation was calling me. I showed you the compost before and will show it again to illustrate my concern:

Before
I am in a relatively rural neighborhood but a fair amount of traffic goes by the property. This collection of compost looks, to the average passerby, like a big pile of trash. Time to clean it up!

Since I'd already decided where to relocate the compost, it was a simple (?) matter of moving it. Yeah, moving approximately one ton of compost was going to be simple. Ha!

After
The empty compost bins got moved first. I'm no idiot, gotta warm up the muscles before calling in the big guns. Next, the composting material in the full bin had to be moved. That took some time but wasn't too difficult. It had the added benefit of mixing up the materials and gave me the opportunity to dampen the pile throughout as I chucked it into one of the previously empty bins.

When that was complete, my first decision loomed. One bin was now full. There are two other bins and an intent to eventually build a large three-bin system but who knows when that will actually happen. After reading how Ruthie planned to turn her compost back and forth between two bins to keep it well-mixed, I'd been thinking that was a good idea. The only drawback is it requires leaving one bin empty all the time, available for the monthly transfer of compost. What the heck, why not try it and see how it goes. The two rectangular bins on the left will be used for this process.

One bag of composting chicken manure went into the round composter behind the wheelbarrow. It will start the new pile for kitchen scraps. There is still a wee bit of goat manure left in the black trashcan along with a little bit of loose hay to use as cover material. Since there's lots of packing paper from the move, it will be shredded to use as the browns (carbon) in the pile. Once that runs out, I'll check with the local feedstore about getting some loose straw or hay again. (Note: the blue trashcan holds our own potting soil mix ready to use.)

The many bags of compost were still taunting me with their trashy look and enormous volume. I wanted to contain them somehow but not have to dump them out yet without the containers to hold the loose material while it finished composting. Setting a couple of tin sheets (picked up from a curb several years ago) on edge, held in place with salvaged blocks from the wash, created a nice little corral. A couple layers of rocks formed a back edge. One by one, I hauled the bags over to the new corral.

By piling them all up on one side, I hoped to accomplish three things:
1. Leave room to dump them out to the right if I decided that was a better way to go,
2. Concentrate them to keep them composting in the bags (more heat), and
3. Be able to cover them with a tarp so it doesn't look like I've started my own personal dumpsite.

I have to say, this looks a lot better than the previous pile o' bags.



And, best of all, I situated everything perfectly in the blindspot from my office. My views are not obstructed but my bags are conveniently turning into black gold right out there in the yard.

Message to My Sweetie from Polie

Hi Daddy!

Miss me? I miss you - you left soooo long ago!

A spider just tried to crawl up my butt. It was very scary. I tried to catch it. It had too many legs! They poked at my nose. Mom killed it for me.

Mom doesn't want spiders up my butt. I don't either! She thinks I'd go crazy.

Please block the big gap by the door so no more creepy crawly things get in.

Thank you, Daddy! Are you on your way home now? Somebody's gotta scratch my ears.

Polie

Exhausting Clean-Up

We spent much of the weekend working on cleaning up the property. Basic clean-up was definitely necessary; this was also the first step towards really getting to know our space. Where does it look like the water flows during a rain, especially a summer downpour? Where is the best place to locate the compost? What are possible locations for garden beds and fruit/nut trees? Can we fix up the downed fences or do we have to start from scratch?

This was not a good weekend for doing outdoor work. As is common in the spring here, it was very windy all weekend. My poor sweetie was cutting down large areas of weeds and grass, and is now suffering for allergies. All told, he probably tackled about 1/4 acre of knee-high weedy stuff over the weekend.



It looks much better and makes it easier to see the lay of the land. (Sorry, no "before" picture.)


While he was weed-eating on Saturday, I was pulling foxtail by hand out of the fenced yard accessible to the dogs. Foxtail is a grass that luckily is easy to pull up. It's important to get as much of it out of the yard now before it dries up.


When the awns dry, they splay open and easily break apart. This is annoying as heck in socks but is much worse for dogs as the awns get stuck in their paws and down in their ears.

You can see a fuzzy plant next to the foxtail in both photos. It is also a problem plant. The little fuzzy hairs on it catch on everything and the seed heads break apart into tiny little burrs that stick to socks and dog fur. Dogs will chew them off and swallow them. Friends tell me they can cause digestive blockages for the dogs, so we are trying to eliminate these in the dogs' yard as well.


I spent several hours Saturday afternoon picking up trash after my sweetie finished weed-eating along the roads. Lots of trash and broken glass had accumulated. I was dismayed that none of the cars passing by - and there were quite a few - slowed down to talk to me or express appreciation for the clean-up. Finally, however, one older gentleman beeped his horn and gave me the thumbs-up. Made me feel a little better about the area's residents.

I also picked up trash along the back edges of our property and in the wash. More broken glass, lots of bits of old wood (fence?), and blocks were scattered around. One of those trash bags is full of old carpet that I pried out of the middle of the wash, unearthing my first scorpion out here. The worst item to come across was a little baggie of syringes. I was very careful in handling that to avoid any contact!


I spent today gathering up bricks and blocks from the wash. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with these yet, but it seems silly to haul them off to the dump when they could be used to make a small, creatively-crafted wall.


There were a few whole blocks as well and some flagstone and floor tile pieces. Most of the flagstone was stuck on concrete but that was knocked off relatively easily with a sledgehammer. For now, we are saving that concrete rubble, too, in case we need some fill somewhere.


This is not more trash. This is actually our ton of compost from the old place. Contractor landscaping bags are heavy-duty and were the only way we could figure out to move all the compost. The bags are being re-used after emptying, as you can see by the earlier picture.

After much discussion, we finally settled on a good place for the compost to go. I've determined that it's actually easier to make decisions when there are less options. Having a whole acre to play with makes deciding where to locate the compost bins more difficult! Important factors to consider include proximity to house (not too close but not too far), proximity to future gardens (the closer the better), proximity to neighbors, proximity to water (to rinse containers and to keep compost moist), and views.

The most logical place for the compost is a little too close to the neighbors for me to feel comfortable, although it would be really handy as it would be a short jaunt from the kitchen, out the back gate, and to that location. The next best place looked to be right smack in the middle of my nice views from the office's two corner windows. I finally went inside and sat at both the computer and my desk to see exactly where my views were from the house. I was happy to realize that it will be very easy to situate the compost bins right in the blind spot created by the corner of the house. Perfect!

Unfortunately, I'm totally out of energy to move the compost bins and start getting the compost out of the bags. I've also reached my limit with being out in the wind.

We have so many projects we want to do, large and small, that it's tempting to push ourselves too hard. As has been pointed out before, though, we don't have to get it all done in the first month. We've got time and just have to keep trying to set priorities for what gets done next. Right now, I'm just going to enjoy watching the Abert's Towhees scratch around in the patches of cut weeds and grass.

Paralyzed by Indecision

Yesterday morning, I started out with the intention of unpacking the boxes and totes left in the kitchen. There are two totes with food transported from my kitchen shelves, one large box, and various stuff sitting around on counters. It didn't seem unreasonable to expect I could get that done. I keep forgetting that everything is taking much longer than I expect it to.

The first thing that slowed me down was deciding I really should clean the cabinets more thoroughly. When my friend and I did a quick cleaning of the house prior to the move, we didn't have hot water. Hot water hugely increases the effectiveness of low-chemical cleaning. So, I removed everything from one section of cabinets, got a bowl of hot water with some Simple Green, and cleaned every surface. By mid-day, I had to give up on doing the deep cleaning now as I was making so little progress overall.

The second thing that slowed me down was doing the shelf paper. I haven't used adhesive shelf paper in years - haven't had the need to nor the desire. Unfortunately, the top shelf in each kitchen cabinet does not have laminate on the surface. Other residents here have let oily stuff drip on the pressboard shelves and they are icky. Over the course of the day, I got all of the shelf paper installed but it was a long and tedious process. Making sure it fits properly and then putting it down without getting bubbles and wrinkles takes careful attention and time.

The main thing, though, that slowed me down was indecision. I don't like the layout of the kitchen or the shelves. In our last house, all of the food was on a big steel shelf unit that was four feet wide and six feet tall. A lot of the food was therefore right at a convenient height for short li'l ol' me. In this house, the cabinets are above and below the counters, meaning that a lot of space is too high for me to reach and lower than is convenient, especially for the deep shelves. Shoulder and neck issues currently in play result in a wave of dizziness every time I look up and/or reach up with either arm. Guess how thrilled that makes me about putting anything on a high shelf...

Armed with my step stool, however, which will have to permanently reside in or near the kitchen, I knew I had to use them; I have to use all of the cabinet space available. But how to use it is the hundred dollar question. Shelves that are 23" deep and fairly narrow mean food or small items will get lost in the back and to access anything bulky in the back will require moving the stuff in front of it. Cabinets that are tall waste a lot of storage space. The cabinet space over the sink corner is unreachable with my short arms; at least those have doors on the opposite side. Even though it's quite inconvenient, I can walk around to get things out of the cabinets.

I'd made very little progress by the time my sweetie came home from work yesterday. Several other things had gone wrong during the day so I was rather emotional while begging him for help figuring out the kitchen. He did help and I started putting some things away. Did I get my boxes and totes unpacked? Nope. Not a single one. All I accomplished was moving around those things I'd already unpacked when we first moved in.

Here are some pictures to reward you for sticking through all the whining above.


I decided to use some of the deep shelves for bulky appliances and some for food.


At this time, one tall cabinet is housing grains and beans. I need to see about adding a really stable shelf somehow - bricks and plywood?


Shelf organizers help a lot, as shown in this photo of the cabinet over the sink. (Picture taken from the living room side.) I got several of the metal organizers, even though they were not cheap, because it was the simplest and most effective solution for now.


Things that I don't use as often are going on top of the cabinets, waaaay up high. I did not squat or sit down to take this picture (and I am not unusually short). Anyone got a ladder?!

Will I get the box and totes in the kitchen unpacked today? Nope. Nor will I tackle the rest of the kitchen boxes in the utility room. It will have to wait until next week.

Today we have to take care of other homestead issues like cutting down all the dried weeds along the roads to reduce fire danger, fixing up the old barbed wire fencing to begin to mark our boundaries, establishing the permanent composting area, determining where to put the clothesline, and so on. I'd put out a call for help in return for a home-cooked meal but it's too hard to do much cooking in my kitchen right now. There's a nearby store, however. Wanna come help me for pizza and beer?