Posts Tagged ‘wild plums’
Different Realities
The world is a collection of independent realities simmering away at varying distances from one another. Currently, I am home alone for a few days with our animals. It feels so very far away from when I was in Chicago for the wedding last weekend. Cyndie is gone for a few days with a friend who will be having a surgical procedure done.
The countdown has reached three days until I depart for a week of biking in the Black Hills. That will definitely be a different reality. Shortly after I return from that, we travel to Boston to visit the world Barry and Carlos inhabit.
Yesterday, a friend shared a “Letters from an American” entry by history professor Heather Cox Richardson that featured Illinois Governor Pritzker’s response to tRump’s announcement that he was planning to send troops to Chicago. The sorry excuse for a President is definitely living in a unique and independent reality.
The Governor addressed the members of the Press who were in attendance, asking for their “courage to tell it like it is.” If only the media were able to present one true, unquestionable reality to the world about what exactly is going on behind the curtains in Washington.
I like to dream of a reality where Republicans at every level start rising up to admit that their king has no clothes.
At Wintervale, a current reality unfolding before our eyes involves the ripening of a robust-looking crop of fruit from the wild American Plum trees scattered across our property.
I don’t know if Cyndie’s reality for the near future involves producing some wild plum jam or not. It feels wasteful just to let all the fruit drop to the ground. But harvesting can be laborious unless we are both around to spread out a sheet to catch the plums as one of us shakes the trees. It’s possible we won’t both be at home until we get back from Boston in the middle of September.
This morning, I hope to meet another new This Old Horse volunteer who might be able to help feed horses when I leave for my bike trip. It’s pretty easy to train folks who are familiar with horses. Introduce them to the herd, then show them where the bags of grain are. They know the drill from there. The horse world is a more universal reality than an independent one.
Yesterday evening, I witnessed some beautiful “mutual grooming” going on between Light and Mia. It really warms the heart to see signs that members of the herd are taking care of one another.
I sure wish there was a more universal reality where all humans took good care of each other. I’d like to see a reality where anger and fear of others are replaced with a universal love and acceptance for all people.
Sing it, Jesse… “Come on people now, smile on your brother, everybody get together, try to love one another right now.”
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Wild Plums
We hadn’t put much focus on the wild plum trees growing on our property until last year when the yield of fruit was so high we couldn’t help but gather bowls full for making jam. This year the yield looks as good or better. Maybe that’s because we are more focused on it now.
It seems like the plums turned red really fast and the trees near our trails started dropping fruit over a week ago.
Cyndie has demonstrated great interest in gathering this year’s crop so we have been making frequent visits to shake trees and bag what comes loose.
Some of the plums look pretty big but after biting into one, I quickly discovered the pit takes up about half the size.
When making jam out of wild plums, removing pits ends up being the majority of the work.
The few that I ate while collecting the best-looking specimens weren’t as sweet as what I remember from last year, but they weren’t sour or bitter either, so they should still make for good jam.
Collecting plums provided a nice diversion from another project I was toiling away at for a second day in a row. In addition to spending an hour a day trimming portions of fence line, I started digging a trench in search of the AC power lines feeding the barn.
We still need to fix the break in one phase line that was discovered last winter. I suspect there is a failure at the point where the wires were reattached back in 2013 after they were accidentally cut by a skid-steer tractor. We have been reviewing photos from that time to determine roughly where the broken cable is routed but it is still a bit of a guessing game. We don’t have the luxury of a device to precisely locate buried cable.
I’m also not sure about how deeply the cable is buried. I wish I had paid more attention to what was going on when they fixed it over ten years ago.
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Happiness Expedition
Surfing for something to watch during a fabulous dinner of a grilled chicken sandwich with a slice of tomato fresh from the garden and just-picked sweetcorn, brought us to the 2017 documentary, “Expedition Happiness.” What a fun surprise that turned out to be since we didn’t know anything about Felix Starck (“Pedal the World”) or Selima “Mogli” Taibi and their excellent chronicle of traveling Canada, the United States, and Mexico in a refurbished school bus they modified themselves.
Their expedition provided plenty of happiness but was not without trials and tribulations. I found it refreshing that they succeeded repeatedly in reframing the difficulties in a way that always saved room for happiness to continue to exist. I would do well to emulate this exercise as often as I can. My happiness tends to get smothered by the depths of instant despair sparked by one thing after another when trying to bring order to life’s ongoing chaos.
Yes, we have an adopted 16-month-old rescued mixed-breed puppy. Yes, we are caretakers of 20 acres of fields and forests. Yes, we have a 33-year-old log home that is beginning to show signs of settling to a point that deserves professional analysis and possible intervention. Yes, we are both retired and living on a tighter budget than our working years. Yes, we are over a year into waiting on a landscape contractor to finish grading the edges of our 900-foot driveway after being told repeatedly we are on their schedule (current “guess” is possibly the week after next –where have I heard that before?).
Still, I am truly happy, even though I felt a scary twinge in my back yesterday while wielding my favorite new hedge trimmer to cut back tall growth that was bending over our path around the outside of the hay field fence. I changed up my routine for a bit and went back later to carefully finish without further physical damage but as the evening wore on, the rest of my body began the natural reaction of tightening up to restrict movement that might exacerbate the disc degeneration affliction.
I’m happy to be newly inspired to try making use of the little plums we get from a few American Plum trees distributed around our land. Cyndie tells me she did try one year but after pitting and pureeing a batch she had to store them in the refrigerator while heading out of town. By the time she returned, they had fermented.
I think the pitting effort dissuaded her from trying again in the seasons since. Maybe if I offer some of my labor I can coerce her into trying again for a jam or other concoction of her choosing.
When the beautiful fruit is falling off the tree onto our walking path, it seems a shame to not put it to use beyond feeding wildlife and decomposing into our soil.
Taking advantage of free natural fruit growing on our land is the kind of thing that provides bonus happiness for our ongoing adventures.
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Big Surprise
During the afternoon on Wednesday, when the gales of “Sept-ober” were blowing, I heard a crash while I was out scooping manure in the arena. It sounded to me like something very large had tipped over in the barn. However, I couldn’t think of anything in the barn that would have made that sound. I began to question my perception and wondered if something could have fallen up in the shop garage.
As I walked back toward the barn I had the thought that I probably shouldn’t leave the doors wide open on such windy days. I like getting fresh air moving in there, but the place sure is a dust factory as a result. I couldn’t see anything amiss, so I wandered over to the garage for a look. Nothing out of place there, either. It didn’t make sense.
Something about the sound brought to mind metal shelves, or the metal roof and sides of the barn and garage. With no evidence available to match what I heard, I promptly forgot about it.
Yesterday was a completely different day, with a stillness that exuded peace and tranquility. I walked the horses, one-at-a-time, over to the north pasture for a couple of hours after my lunch. They were exceptionally well-behaved. While they alternately grazed and raced around, I busied myself in the vicinity by trimming the scrub growth that looks decades old along our north property border.
Can you see Hunter positioned alone, away from the other three?
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The wild plum trees are producing a bumper crop this year.
I don’t remember this much fruit last year. Heck, we didn’t even figure out they were actually plums until a few weeks ago. Now we are all excited for having trees producing fruit we can use.
Well, more trees, that is. We do also have a rather tall apple tree that looks like it grew wild in the woods between the back yard and the barn. It dropped a lot of fruit last year. This year’s crop looks to be a bit more subdued.
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The horses were cute when I got them back into the paddock. All four of them settled into a late-afternoon nap after all the excitement of the new grazing pasture. It was so calm and quiet that the few isolated bird calls came across as being extraordinarily loud.
I sat down on the arena grass, which in no time led to laying down, and just watched them looking so peaceful. Then I realized one reason it was so tranquil. I still had Delilah confined in her kennel.
I hiked up to let her out and started tossing balls for her to chase. She was thrilled to have the attention, and was being as playful as ever. I walked down the hill to get one of the balls she had dropped and that’s when I discovered a BIG surprise.
I know what the crash was that I heard on Wednesday afternoon, and it wasn’t anything metal.
We lost a huge limb off a big old maple tree.
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Relative Something 