Wednesday, December 8, 2010

A Random Act of Kindness

My local organic grocery delivery service, SPUD! asked its customers, via Facebook, if they had any critters that enjoyed eating fruits and veggies. I have several, of course, but when forced to choose, I had to go with my man, Archie the smiling goat.



Arch is almost always the first one to jump up and say hello when I wander down to visit my goaties. He doesn't liked to be petted all that much, but he is a very curious little bugger, and he truly enjoys having visitors.


Here he is, nibbling on my sweatshirt.


Well, apparently the folks at SPUD were as charmed with my Archie-boy as I am, because along with my regular grocery order, they sent me an entire case of less-than-perfect produce for my critters.



How cool is that?!?

I want to keep the goodness going! I am hereby declaring a giveaway. Something knitted and something chocolate, most likely, but the details aren't yet full formed. I really just want to make someone feel as lucky and grateful as I felt as the recipient of someone's thoughtfulness. You don't need to follow my blog or answer a trivia question to win, just leave a comment on this post and you're in the running. ;)

Thanks again to the good folks at SPUD for the critter treats - they will be very much enjoyed. :)

Monday, November 29, 2010

The Knervous Knitter goes under the Knife

I don't think that anyone would describe me as high-strung. Neurotic, certainly, but hyperactive, no. In fact, I may well be the embodiment of hypoactivity. Yet for the past few days I've been too wound up to sleep worth a darn, grinding my teeth and fidgeting non-stop because I'm nervous over a surgery that I'm having this week. I like to make it sound all Beverly Hills-y by saying that I'm having my sinuses "re-done", but really, I'm just having the inside of my face cleaned. Again.

The again part is where I think that the nervousness comes in. I'm no stranger to surgeries, but this is the first surgery (besides my c-sections) that I will have had twice. Forewarned may be forearmed, but it also means that you know exactly how awful things are going to be.

And so, I've found myself up at all hours, knitting like a fiend to both occupy my jittery hands and get myself as far ahead of the Christmas rush as I may before I'm out cold on a Vicodin cloud for a few days. I've been shockingly productive, whipping out 2 scarves and 3 dishcloths this past week. I'm keen to start up another scarf tonight, though I don't know if I'll finish it before the surgery, and know myself well enough to know that knitting and inebriation of any sort do not mix. I've had to frog more projects on account of one too many glasses of wine than I have because of my poor mathematical skills, and that is saying something.

At any rate, the original intent of this post was to extol the calming virtues of knitting, even upon someone as rattled as I. I fear though that I have strayed from my point a bit and instead have painted myself as a fruitcake with bad sinuses and a one-sided relationship with boxed wine. So, back to my point - knitting gives nervous hands something to do. Knitting satisfies my OCD-ish need for symmetry and order with it's patterns and incessant counting; it satisfies my weird need to be productive on some level at all times and, this week in particular, it has kept me from biting my fingernails down to nubs.

If you are a knitter and know of any tipsy-proof patterns that I can fumble through while recovering, send them on over or leave a comment with a link, purty please. I (and whomever eventually receives said knitted good) thank you in advance.

Smell ya later - I hope.

Michelle

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Snowbirds

We've had our first "big" snow here in western Washington. The kids are loving it, the grown-ups are hating it, and my baby bantams are mystified.


Must.Not.Touch.WeirdWhiteStuff! says Charlotte


Poor half-blind Gracie couldn't distinguish the chunks of white bread that I was throwing her from the snow.



Mostly, the chickens stayed close to the coop.



We've been feeding all of our critters extra calories since the weather turned cold, with the most popular dish being what I have dubbed "Goatmeal". The goatmeal is enjoyed by chickies and goats alike, with the only difference being that I do not add molasses to the chickens' ration.

Chelle's Goatmeal
Cooked Brown Rice (or any cooked whole grain)
Fresh frozen corn kernels
Flax Seed meal
Hearty drizzle of molasses

Mix rice & corn together and microwave until warm but not hot. Sprinkle with flax meal and drizzle with molasses. Viola - warm and happy critters!


Thanks, Maaaaa!

Thursday, November 18, 2010

A Series of Unfortunate Events

This is my Spikey-boy-



This is Spike saying Hello!



This is Spike discovering my camera strap-



This is my camera being hurled to the ground, landing in wet straw and goat turds.



Archie - Wasn't me.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

The Bright Side of Bad Weather

Last night we got wailed on over here in Western Washington. The winds were as high as 60 mph, and let me tell you, being inside a little old house in a little hollow on a peninsula doesn't help to lessen the feeling of living in a wind tunnel in any way. After a night of howling and banging, I was scared to go outside this morning and see what might be missing, and/or freshly impaled by a tree limb.

But the goats wait for no wimp, so I had just decided to suck it up and go outside for morning critter patrol when I felt my couch gently, rather soothingly, rock back and forth under me. Yes indeed, we had ourselves an earthquake.

It was a small one, especially by West Coast standards, just a lil' 4.2, but fresh on top of a clobbering windstorm it was a little unsettling.

I sat back down for a few more minutes to wig-out on facebook. Am I nuts or did we just have a little earthquake? Almost immediately, my cousin Jen seconded my quake theory, and a quick trip to the USGS website confirmed it. Yikes what a morning! When do the other plagues arrive? I'm hoping that the four horsemen of the apocalypse get food poisoning or take a wrong turn at Albuquerque or something on the way to my house. I've had plenty of excitement for one day, thanks.

Anyway, beyond the inconvenience of navigating my house by head-lamp and this morning's initial world-coming-apart-at-the-seams paranoia, all inhabitants of Boggy Hollow escaped mother nature's wrath unharmed, which I will call blessing number one.

Blessing number two came from the skies in the form of limbs and branches. The wind knocked down a lot of tender branch tips as well as quite a few heftier limbs. The goats LOVE a good fresh evergreen tree and there were literally tons of them laying in the streets throughout the city. I only needed to go about 20 feet from my front yard to collect a yard cart full of them from the street in front of my neighbor's house. I'd say that we jammed a good 30 pounds of Douglas Fir needles & branch bits into my cart, which will supplement the goats' hay & sweet feed rations quite nicely, for free.

I may go get another cart load from a little further down the lane, but for now I'm going to chalk up my free goat chow score and my safe little house as my wins for the day, and sit back with a hot cup of coffee and a blazing fire and just enjoy my many blessings, in whatever strange forms they choose to present themselves.

Monday, November 15, 2010

For my fellow Cheese Fiends

My homegirl, Suzanne over at Chickens in the Road is giving away a boatload of home cheesemaking supplies to one lucky winner.

Check it out here- Do you know Jack?

I'm not only hoping to win these, but to use them soon too, as we *think* our little goat princess is going into heat, and have found a sweet boy to breed her to which should equal goat cheese for us as early as late spring. Viva el queso de cabra!

Sunday, October 31, 2010

It's the Water - Keepin' it Real, Oly-style

Even if you've never been to, never heard of my home town of Olympia, odds are you've still heard of our beer.



Olympia Beer has always been considered a working-man's type of beer. A simple, refreshing lager, who's biggest selling point, as well as it's slogan was "the water". The brewery was located right next to the Deschutes river, and essentially right on top of one of our city's many artesian springs, thus providing multiple sources of naturally ultra-pure water for brewing. Leopold Schmidt, the founder of the Olympia brewery, recognized that starting with pure, crystal-clear artesian water was the key to making a superior beer. Around here, it seems that people agreed. Olympia beer was once carried by nearly every tavern and pub in the Pacific Northwest and was the preferred beer for my Grandpa's generation. Alas, long story short, the Schmidt family sold the brewery, which eventually ended up being owned by Miller (who was at that time partly owned by the evil Philip Morris Company), who rather quickly after purchasing the plant, decided that it wasn't profitable enough and summarily shuttered the brewery for good, choosing instead to brew Olympia beer out of it's Irwindale, California plant.

If you're still with me after this seemingly random crash course in the ups and downs of our local beer, hang in there, I'm getting to my point. ;)

The basis, the inspiration and the slogan for Olympia beer has always been "It's the Water", and once upon a time it was. Now the artesian wells that used to supply and endless flow of naturally perfect water sit unused, their precious water re-routed to storm drains and sewage pipes, an utter waste. Meanwhile, Miller is making our city's beer with God knows what kind of municipal, probably chlorinated, fluoridated water that they simply filter the bejeezus out of. It's not the same.

And so after paragraphs of rambling and bitching, I finally arrive at my point. I will not go gently into that good night. I am an Olympia girl, born and raised and a tree-hugging granola to boot. There still exist just a handful of the once abundant artesian spring wells around town, the best known of which is in a downtown parking lot, of all places, flowing quite unglamourously out of crooked pipe, burbling 24/7 for anyone who wants a cool drink. And many do! People bring empty milk jugs and giant Culligan water bottles down to the Diamond Lot to fill with the one-of-a-kind water. Local restaurants boast about serving the artesian water. It's reputation is such that it is a selling point for them.

So, when Bill and I held our mini brew-fest this past weekend, it was a no-brainer that we would use the artesian water as the basis for our wine and beer. It may not be fancy, but the difference in taste - especially when compared with our well water - is obvious. The result is a better, purer-tasting brew, with the fringe benefit of stickin' it to the man. Awww yeahhh....

And so it is with my stubborn, hippy chick, fight-the-power attitude that a new, finnicky generation of home brewers like us insist on sticking by the old ways for the sake of (barring any brewing mishaps) a superior brew. I think you'll agree that not only is it the water that makes all the difference, but the passion for the craft.

If you ever find yourself in our soggy little neck of the woods, stop by and have a pint of Bill's Pilsner (tentatively named "The Billsner") or a glass of my rhubarb wine and tell me if you can taste the difference. ;)