Friday, September 23, 2005, 17:43
Finally!
Thursday evening I made two quarts of spaghetti sauce from the Roma tomatoes from my garden.
Two quarts!
Finally.
I have been waiting and waiting and waiting to get enough tomatoes to make spaghetti sauce.
The four Roma plants on the south side of the barn are producing the best. The Romas in my little basement garden are going hog-wild with vines, and they've got some green tomatoes, but so far they haven't produced many ripe tomatoes.
Thursday morning, after I fed the horses, I washed out Kajun's 7-quart grain bucket and went in search of tomatoes. When I was finished, the bucket was three-quarters full, so I figured I'd better do something with them. I've been eating tomatoes on salads for the past six weeks, but this is the first time I've gotten three-quarters of a bucket.
Thursday evening, I washed the tomatoes, cut off the stem ends, cut them in pieces and put them into the blender. At first I thought I was going to make tomato preserves, but by the time I was halfway through the tomatoes, I decided I'd better make spaghetti sauce. When I was finished with the blender, I put the tomato puree into a kettle and turned the burner on low. I kept stirring the puree every 10 minutes or so. After a while I added a little sugar, some salt, a teaspoon each of basil and oregano, some lemon juice and a little garlic powder.
Four hours later I had two quarts of spaghetti sauce. I put the sauce in jars, screwed on the lids and put the jars in a boiling water bath.
If I'm lucky, I'll get enough tomatoes to make some more spaghetti sauce. But, with the year we've been having -- so much hot, dry weather -- I don't know how many more tomatoes I will get.
Speaking of the drought, it seems that it just does not want to rain here. Wednesday night, the Twin Cities area was pounded with thunderstorms -- flooded streets, lots of wind and hail damage. We got about a tenth of an inch of rain out of the whole thing. According to the local forecasters, we are down by 5 inches of rain so far for the season. If it doesn't rain much this fall, we'll need to get about 100 inches of snow to make up for it. The average snowfall around here is about 50 inches.
Nasal Injury Update -- I thought my nose was going to be sore on Thursday after doing myself a bodily injury on Wednesday morning with my nasal spray, but it actually felt pretty good, all things considered. I am being *very careful* with the nasal spray now, and I will continue to be careful. It was an experience I do not care to repeat.
Sophie Update -- Sophie continues to grow by leaps and bounds. And I do mean leaps and bounds. She is one lively kitten. Plays with anything and everything. At night, when I'm ready to put her in her cubbyhole, I slide open the door so I can clean out her litter box. When Sophie hears the door slide open, she comes on the run because she knows I will put a plate of canned kitty and kitty chow in there for her. Even though Sophie has grown a lot, we are still putting her in the cubbyhole at night because she really is not all *that* big, and I am afraid one of us will roll over on her in our sleep.
LeAnn R. Ralph
Thursday, September 22, 2005, 19:58
Do as I Say. . .and Watch What I Do. . .
"HEYYYYY!" Randy said. "Look at this! K-Mart is having a baby sale -- 40 percent off!"
He waited for a few seconds to make sure his punch line would be delivered properly.
"I never knew you could buy babies at K-Mart!" Randy exclaimed.
My husband was looking at the K-Mart flyer from the newspaper, and in the background, our Shetland Sheepdog, Pixie, started barking.
"Woof-woof-woof," Pixie said as she came into the kitchen.
"What's wrong with her? Why is she barking?" Randy inquired.
"Woof-woof-woof-woof," Pixie said.
"Pixie!" Randy said. "Be quiet!"
"She thinks someone drove in," I said.
Randy looked at the dog. "Why would she think that?" he asked, a puzzled expression in his brown eyes.
"Because you said, 'HEYYYYY!'," I said.
"I did?"
"Yes, and that's what you always say when someone drives in and you open the door to greet them," I said.
"I do?" Randy said.
"Yes, you do. And to Pixie, that means someone is here."
Randy looked at the dog again.
"That," he said, "is scary."
"It might be scary," I said, "but it is very true. She pays attention to everything that goes on around here."
Not only has Pixie realized that Randy saying, "HEYYYYY!" means we have company, she also comes on the run when I scrape out a pot or pan after supper to put the leftovers away because she knows she might get to lick out the pot or the pan (if it's something she likes, spaghetti sauce, for instance, or a mac-and-cheese pan).
In addition, Pixie knows that carrying an armload of clothes *might* mean I am putting them in the dryer, and it is her duty to bark at that mean, nasty dryer when it starts running.
Pixie also knows that if I reach for the door knob of the linen closet door that the vacuum cleaner might be coming out -- and if the vacuum cleaner is coming out, she feels it is her duty to bark at that mean, nasty vacuum cleaner when it starts running.
Unfortunately, Pixie must suffer through many false alarms with the linen closet door because I also -- surprisingly enough -- keep sheets and pillow cases and quilts and blankets in the linen closet.
Oh, yes -- Pixie pays attention to everything that goes on in the house.
I've read that dogs even pay attention to their owners' pattern of breathing, and that they know when their owners are sick or if they are waking up or falling asleep or if something is wrong.
Well, if dogs really pay attention to everything, then how come our Springer Spaniel, Charlie, doesn't listen to me nearly as well as he listens to Randy? I can yell until I'm blue in the face when we're out for a walk, and he still goes up into the neighbor's yard to chase the cat or to say 'hello' to the neighbor who has just gotten out of her car. It's embarrassing. I'm standing there yelling, and the dog acts like he has suddenly gone profoundly deaf.
Then again, maybe Charlie *is* paying attention. Years of experience have probably taught him that my 'bark' is much worse than my 'bite' -- and that he's perfectly safe doing whatever it is that he wants to do because Mom is only going to bark a little bit.
There are other things that Charlie pays attention to, however. If I tell Pixie to "stay" and I leave the house, and for some reason, I happen to walk toward my truck, Charlie thinks we are going somewhere and, with a happy, excited expression on his face, he sits by the GMC, waiting for me to open the door so he can jump into the passenger seat.
Charlie and Pixie aren't the only ones who pay attention to everything, though. It's getting to the point now where I can't do anything with paper (write out a check; turn a page of the newspaper; pick up some junk mail to put it in the trash), without Sophie coming on the run because she loves to play with paper -- especially paper that I have crumpled up in a ball and tossed on the floor for her to bat around and chase.
On second thought, I suppose Sophie's love for paper is my own fault *because* I have given her paper balls to play with.
Well, anyway.
If I set a can of fruit cocktail on the cupboard, a couple of the "big kitties" come on the run because they think it might be a can of cat food.
If I step out of the house, the horses start nickering at me because they think I'm going to give them some grain, some hay, or both.
You know, sometimes I get the feeling that my every move around here is being watched. It's enough to make a person paranoid.
No, wait.
My every move *is* being watched.
LeAnn R. Ralph