Workshop Chocolate Cake

Hello dear readers, I've just come from my late afternoon bath over at the house, which I like to do after the carpenters leave and before the possibility of a close encounter with a bear in the dark. This is going to get tricky as the light fades earlier, I can see that...

So right now, Paul is upstairs in the attic doing lord knows what... from the noise coming from there, it sounds like he's doing dental work on a giant using a very large drill. I think he's actually trying to take apart and extract a very large truss that held up the chimney that is no longer there. I don't know why this makes me think of dental work.

But speaking of fairy tale and other-worldly beings in the house, I wanted to share with you a bit of a strange feeling I've had here, right from day one. Part of the strangeness is that I never feel it when I'm in the house, only when I'm outside. It usually happens when I'm working in the yard and no one else is around. I get the feeling I'm being watched from an upstairs window, but of course when I glance up, there's nothing there. The feeling is a mix of dread at the chance of actually seeing something-- and then what would I do?-- and disappointment. What am I expecting? Well, actually, I find myself thinking of a young blond girl, maybe nine years old or so, dressed in a cotton blouse and holding a doll. Or a young woman in a kerchief, who would draw quickly away from the window if I saw her. These last weeks of carving out the vegetable garden, I've found myself wondering if they would approve of what I'm doing with 'their' space. I get a similar feeling when I'm working on old rescue quilt tops I've bought on ebay... as I add border, quilting, and backing, I feel that I'm collaborating with a ghost. I am keenly aware of her fingers having worked the fabric, and I wonder what she thinks of my choice of (sometimes outrageously colourful) fabric to finish the project she started.

Speaking of projects, here is an update on the house: The back end (dining room and kitchen) is almost ready to be closed in, although the windows won't be ready for a few weeks yet. A concrete footing has been poured to support the single post that will support the huge new beam that will allow us to remove the (formerly pink) wall that divided up the river end of the house so the view was blocked. Whew. Also, a hole has been cut (mostly) in the ceiling of the main floor, or floor of the second floor, depending on where you're standing, to make room for the new staircase. Behold the picture: I'm standing in the second floor hallway, looking down at where the stairs will be.

Electrician Bill has also made a few visits, and begun deconstructing the elaborate puzzle that is the wiring in this house. And the gasline has been laid, which will service our gorgeous new six-burner BlueStar stove. Here's a great pic Paul took the other morning, of the trench for the gasline in the early morning fog:

The trench still needs to be backfilled, and right now it looks like an ugly incision stretching across the property from the road to the house (about 200 yards). Paul assures me it will heal.      

As for bears: Paul encountered a large one the other evening, in another pear tree closer to the mobile home where our tenant Patsy lives. It broke a large branch climbing that tree. But the bears (and their droppings) are scarce these days, especially since we removed the pear tree standing right outside the house. We discovered the core of the tree was old and crumbling so we didn't feel too guilty about taking it down. Some of the pear wood went to Ted, a neighbour who is a wood turner (Paul exerts huge effort not to call him Ted Turner; I've actually seen sweat break out on his forehead from the strain) and the rest is cut and stacked for burning.

And so things go along, and we continue to grow in our love for this place. As per usual for me in the fall, I'm feeling more like cooking and baking and continue to miss having all my pots and pans and various culinary paraphernalia around me.

Regardless, Recipe for Workshop Chocolate Cake:

Discover a package of gluten-free chocolate cake mix Paul must have bought while I was in Victoria last summer.

Call Paul and ask him to heave and ho heavy boxes in search of a measuring cup and cake pans.

Discover one plastic measuring cup with barely readable markings in a box with articles I've never seen before, which must have come from the farthest corner of the basement in the Victoria house; it will do nicely.

Discover a box of metal baking pans-- score!

Fail to locate icing sugar, so make do following an online boiled granular sugar recipe. It fails miseraby, becoming quickly unspreadable as it cools and sits in coagulated lumps on the cake. So of course we eat those parts first, sitting on the couch in the workshop, my feet on Paul's lap, and it is delicious.

Dear Universe...

I want to take this opportunity to say thank you, Dear Universe, for the recent lessons on the requirement for clear, precise wording in the practice of Spiritual Manisfestation. I now understand that when I said (in response to frustration at the slowness of the renovation process) "I want to see the house crawling with carpenters," I should have specified human carpenters, not carpenter ants. I'm glad we cleared that up. Only one visit from the exterminator and his fumigation equipment was required.

I might take this opportunity to further clarify that when I envisioned Glory-ous Mornings, I did not mean the herbaceous variety; you can stop with the ruddy bindweed any time now, thanks. And when I requested prolific, easily accessed sources of manure for the garden, I hadn't quite seen myself trucking about the place every morning with a wheel barrow, scooping bear turds. Really. One would think You might actually be having a little har-dee-har at us mortals' expense. 

Thank you for the two (not one, two) clawfoots tubs, perfect condition and refinished, hardware included, for an outrageously inexpensive price. As Supreme Feminine Ruler, you know how much a girl appreciates a good, old-fashioned soak. And for getting Paul safely back from fetching the last one from the coast, with no trailer-drama this time.

Let's see... we still need to find affordable flooring for the upstairs hallway. And a good-sized chunk of marble for the kitchen island. Range hood, perhaps with decorative tin finish? Concrete pad, 8' X 20' for the greenhouse. Which I don't know how in heaven's name (oops, Your name) we're going to move.

Otherwise I think we're good. Oh yes, the children are always in need of financial help, but you know that's a standing order.

Thank you for Paul, most of all.

And say hello to Santa Claus for me.

Ta-taaaa!

Yesterday was a very good day...

Ah, good morning good readers. I am sitting at my desk watching the mist rise from the mountain behind Ootischenia, sipping a cup of green tea and feeling very cosy-autumny-thanksgivingy. Paul is still sleeping, and Cassius has eaten his breakfast and is out exploring. The weather has turned just in the last week, from scorching clear to soft and drizzly. There is a tree flaming red along our driveway, and another that burst briefly into red then shrugged all its leaves to the ground. Autumn is most definitely here, and I am noticing that because I can see so much more of the weather, the geography around us, I am loving the changes. I can hardly wait to be tucked upstairs in the house, watching winter take hold of the land.

Here is an assortment of tidbits by way of update: we finally broke down and hired someone to help me with the morning glory. It is too massive a job on it's own, never mind getting gardens prepped for next year-- which was the intended goal this fall. So garden-expert Carrie arrived yesterday, full of energy and enthusiasm and lots of good gardening know-how, and she's tackling the infestation in the south garden, on her knees, one square foot at a time. Yes, she's being paid. She says she's never seen a bindweed infestation this bad. Thank you for the Validation.

My process with the yardwork has gone something like this: get excited about the new veggie garden and work on that for awhile; have a bad dream about morning glory roots reaching up to strangle me by the throat; wake up at 4am fretting about beridding the place of it; resolve to work on that instead, and fly at it for a few hours; realize there is no way I can do it AND get anything else done, including my job nevermind other garden work; give up and cry in frustration; get a hug from Paul, brainstorm ideas for MG eradication, such as smothering under tarps, excavating, etc.; get started on a bit of that, then realize I have to get the sheet composting on the veggie garden going. Rinse and repeat.

But as of yesterday, there is Hope once again. This is important for those of us who like to take on Big Projects and who think we can Do It All. Hope is good.


So here is a view of my veggie garden layout, from an upstairs window. It takes the shape of a square, cut into quadrants, and then each quadrant cut once again into triangles. This leaves eight sections for rotating annual veggies on a yearly basis. There will be a long rectangular bed on one edge where perennial vegetables such as asparagus and artichoke will reside permanently.



Here is the garden, staked out as of last week:

At 40X40ft., I had it close-enough-to-square-for-me when Becca and Dean showed up to help, and Becca took things in hand. Close enough was not good enough, so she grabbed the tape measure and barked out orders to Dean and I until we'd got it right. And it is a much cleaner layout-- thank you honey! Each of the eight triangle beds are just small enough to reach into the middle (if you're longarmed like me), and the paths between allow good room for a wheelbarrow. There's room in the centre for a bench, or maybe a table and sun umbrella for resting with a cold drink.

The next step after laying out with stakes and string was to dig a shallow trench along the string-lines. This took me two days, and I enjoyed the last of our hot weather while doing it. I needed to get the stakes and string out of the way so the big truck can drive in and empty the dumpster parked beside the house (it can drive over the trenched outlines without erasing them). The next and final step before winter will be to add all the layers-- and progress this week included finding a phenomenal source for manure, and acquiring two truck loads. You can see it in the first picture, to the left-back. That's my staging area for the lasagna materials, and so far I have a pile of grass clippings, a pile of awesome manure, and some bagged leaves. We still need to rent/buy a chipper so all the trimmed branches can be added as well. Getting there!

Let's take a peek at what's happening in the house:

This is a view from the livingroom into the river-end (dining room on the left, kitchen on the right). The builders are replacing the back wall, which will be fitted with windows and french doors.

 Outside view of the corner where the new kitchen starts. That's Jim, our contractor, standing in the house, and Ken, who has been here three weeks doing demolition. I think he's glad to be moving on to building now!

Other updates: Paul made a fast dash to Richmond to act on some sweet deals: we've got our second clawfoot tub, beautifully refinished and with fixtures, for $400-- that's an amazing deal. He also picked up a beautiful white kitchen farmhouse sink from Ikea, which was the best value we could find for that style. And he found someone with the plumbing/hardware for the fixtures and shower ring for the other clawfoot tub, so we're all set in that department! We're still working on having a vintage cabinet of mine converted into a bathroom vanity, we'll show you pics of how that turns out.

But the icing on the cake for me yesterday was signing the contract with Builder Jim, which states that the renovations will be "substantially completed" by Christmas! I've been fretting about that because the Luke and Erika and Dylan and Alandra are booked to fly out from Toronto/Montreal, and I was not looking forward to cramming us all into the workshop! Thank you Jim, "substantial" will be good enough for me.
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Pilgrim's Progress

Happy International Day of Peace, good readers. In honour of the day, I will refrain from making reference to poo, carcasses, or 'battles' with morning glory. All will be goodness and light, I promise.

It feels as though things have finally settled into a bit of routine around here... I'm at my computer by 7am or so, do my Uvic work until about 10:30, then head outside to do some yard work. (Paul just works all the time, then comes in covered in dirt, hungry, and generally very happy). Yesterday I dug the grassy turf from around some fruit trees-- the lady at the garden shop had said it suffocates the trees, so I'm going to fill in a circle around each tree with good, nourishing compost and some bark mulch on top. After pondering for a few minutes what to do with the turf, I ran inside and googled 'does turf compost', and Lo! it does. It just takes a few years under black plastic, but apparently the end result is worth it. So I started a pile in a corner of the property, and will get back to you in 2013 on that.

High on my agenda is to get the veggie patch laid out, then to start the lasagna garden. For those not familiar with this 'no dig' method, the go-to book is 'Lasagna Gardening: A New Layering System for Bountiful Gardens: No Digging, No Tilling, No Weeding, No Kidding!' by Patricia Lanza. The idea is to place layers of cardboard (that we have from saved moving boxes!), peat moss, compost, wood chips, wood ashes, newspaper, etc. etc. right on top of turf, and Hey Presto! in the spring it's settled and decomposed to a few good inches of wonderful stuff you plant right into, with the turf beneath all chewy-soft from the little organisms that flocked(?) toward all the yummy stuff you gave them.

Here's the area I plan to make into garden: looking north...





and south. And yes, its big, but they don't call me 'Go Big or Go Home Jojo' for nothing.

In the next few days, I'll stake out the beds and then start layering. I think the main challenge will be obtaining enough material, but I've started calling around for manure (oops, sorry, that's poo, isn't it) and other ingredients.

Yesterday Paul started dismantling the chimney, which doesn't work where it is (and has seen better days and a few fires, by the looks of it) and has to come out to make room for the new stairs to the second floor. Here are some shots:

 And today, I pruned back the raspberries, which had become a jungle. Never having done this before, I referred to my 'Gardener's A-Z Guide to Growing Organic Food'. I had to read it over a few times, and given that I don't know whether we have everbearing or simply 'red' raspberries, I had to guess and sort of came up with a freestyle method of my own. I cut down to the ground all the brown, dead canes (there were lots), and then thinned the rest so there is one cane about every 3-4 inches. I then topped them off at about 6'. As you can see, there are now far more branches in the pile than there are in the garden!                                                                 

I hope I haven't just sabotaged next years' crop... I also saved a pile of the young, fresh leaves, which I'll hang to dry in the Banya and use for raspberry tea this winter.

On the ToDo list: rent chipper to cut up all the tree trimmings we've collected so far (can use in lasagna garden); put up posts and wire for more raspberries; prune the hazelnuts where the bears broke branches :( ... Learn how to prune the fruit trees later this fall; clean up existing garden beds; extract the honey we pulled off the hives and set aside a few weeks ago. But most of all, continue enjoying the peace and beauty of this place as we move into Autumn. Peace to all, and a happy upcoming Autumn Equinox!

The House at Poo Corner

Greetings, dear readers. We know you're hankering for yet another glimpse into the rural pastimes of Paul and Jo-Anne, so let us begin.

These past weeks have been wonderfully full. I wanted to live closer to nature, and by George, we are! Nature is Creeping under the doorstep (morning glory vines), being Deposited in the livingroom (Cassius' latest trophies), and Sneaking up the garden path (bears, bears, and more bears). And isn't this a wonderful shot of a Praying Mantis, who jumped out of the morning glory onto the white wall of the workshop and posed for me.

Some Savoury moments from the past few weeks: Friday before last, when the Moon was coming on full, Paul suggested we walk down the road to the restaurant at the golf course for dinner. I hadn't realized it was there, or that it was so close. Turns out to be a Pub in our neighbourhood-- score! And, after some inquiries between me, the server, and the chef, turns out they don't bread their chicken wings. Only those readers who are celiac or gluten-sensitive will Appreciate. So we have our Friday night date night chicken wings and caesar salad night nailed down, right here in our neighbourhood! We so enjoyed sitting on the pub patio as the sun set, and then just a few brief moments later, watched the moon rise behind us. The walk home was Magic, the evening so soft and warm-- something I missed so much living on Vancouver Don't-forget-your-sweater-going-out-for-the-evening-yes-even-in-August Island.

We've also made some new Friends with Sarah and Gregg-- Sarah is helping me find local foods, and I've already purchased a half dozen Gorgeous roasting chickens (in the freezer for winter) and a turkey for Thanksgiving! Sarah leads the community Choir, which I've joined, and it feels terrific to be singing again. They are wonderful, community-minded people and so very Generous. We enjoyed a delicious currie dinner at their place last week, and are having them over this week for dinner a la Workshop.

What else? Paul has done some serious demolition in the house:





Oops, meant to show this pic:












I've also made Headway in the Battle of the Morning Glory, with Becca and Dean's help. We removed the Obnoxious Stuff from around the perimeter of the workshop and bagged it up for taking to the dump. I also got a fantastic Tip from a gardener in Trail, who said she asks for used tarps from building supply companies (its what they wrap the loads of lumber in for trucking). So I hopped down to the Rona and asked-- and voila! A trunk load of tarp, black on one side, white on the other-- Gratis! I've already covered over most of the patch of garden I weeded (you remember that, dear reader), which is Rife with morning glory. According to the UBC horticultural website, covering morning glory with black tarp for about a year may Eradicate it. We'll see.

So... we come to the Bears. It is with Trembling Awe that I write on this subject. The sheer Size, the Volume, the Frequency, sets the heart Racing and knees Quaking. I speak, of course, of bear Poo, which is bloody well everywhere on the property. The bears themselves aren't actually as big as I'd imagined. The cubs are pretty cute. But wow, what a nuisance. Behold:

This one is in the pear tree that stands on the corner of the carport, between the house and workshop. I believe we've actually passed beneath it many times in recents weeks, completely oblivious to the munching ursine above.

Here's the Mom standing guard while the cubs descend from the tree. As we watched from the bathroom of the house (how ironic), we quickly realized they had descended for one reason only -- bathroom break! We managed to chase them away before more of the area could be transformed into a cesspool.

This next picture is not for the faint of heart. I have it on good authority that one can Compost bear poo, so yes, I went around scooping it up, and yes, it is a Barrow O'Poo. I tucked it under some black plastic, on top of some morning glory. Sweet Revenge.

        

Of Moles and the Glory of the Morning

Mornings at Flying Leap are truly a gift. It is impossible to not want to step outside first thing, and every time I do, I am smitten with the place all over again. It is so, so quiet, all I hear are the birds and the occasional car as someone heads off to town early. But we're so far from the road, that's never been a problem-- in fact, I like knowing there are people around and not needing curtains on my windows. Nice combo.

These days have been, almost without exception, crystal clear. The mornings are lovely and cool, but by noon it's hot. Which means that for me, anyway, outside work needs to be done before lunch. Today I was out by 7am and finished that huge weedy patch I showed you last time. Here is the after pic:

However, the Glory of the Morning around here has been tempered significantly by the discovery in that garden bed of a huge encroachment of Morning Glory... which I have come to appreciate by it's alternate name: Bindweed. Morning Glory is the common name for over 1,000 species of the plant, whose taxonomy, according to Wikipedia, is in flux. Likely because the little bloomers keep multiplying faster than you can classify'em. I believe the type we have is Calystegia sepium, which multiplies like a many-headed Hydra every time it's mowed, cut, or pulled without having removed the whole root, and it chokes out everything in its path. 

Here's a shot of it creeping into the bed I just weeded. There's a huge section all along the northwest side of the property, and Paul and I will have to strategize about getting rid of it. Apparently covering it over in black plastic for about a year will do the trick, but a barrier of some kind will be needed to keep it from creeping back from the next property over. We'll have to figure out some way of eradicating it, because I refuse to spend the rest of my days here pulling the ruddy stuff. Will keep you posted.

Which leads to discussion of our other predatory species. If you look closely at this photo, you'll see small holes amid mounds of dirt. They've been popping up all over the property, and, you guessed it-- they're made by Moles. According to the neighbours, they gnaw away at root vegetables in the garden, and have made a comeback since someone with four cats (the former owner here?) moved away.

The only encounter I'd had with this creature until now was via the very charming children's story, the Wind in the Willows, where my children and I happily followed the bucolic adventures of Mole, Ratty, Mr. Toad, Mr. Badger, Otter, and others. My first closeup occured yesterday, when I almost tripped over a furry corpse left by Cassius for us to admire after an early morning hunt-- and yes, the little digger paws looked pretty much like they were portrayed in the book. Sigh. Be grateful I've spared you a photo. But while not wanting to make a mountain out of the infamous you know what, we will have to find a way to get rid of them as well.

One method suggested by a neighbour, and which is backed up by online testimonials so must be good, is to shove a piece of Juicy Fruit gum down the mole hole. Apparently what your mother said about swallowing gum is true-- they eat it, and it kills them. I remember rolling the gum around in my mouth and wondering why my stomach could handle the (rather astonishing) range of other stuff I ingested as a kid, but not this particular substance. I still find it difficult to swallow gum, but feel strangely rebellious and triumphant when I do-- kind of like peeing while swimming.

Dinner tonight: a fresh quick pasta sauce made from all the various veggies we've been gifted by neighbours, including tomatoes, zuchinni, patty-pan squash, onion, my own basil and italian parsley, some canned sardines (mmm...), and capers. Maybe I'll also roast the rest of the spaghetti squash, just for the theme.

Labour Day Weekend, that's for sure!

Hello, faithful readers, I come to you today a slightly sunburned, muscle-fatigued version of my former self. If anyone out there can recommed a #50 sunscreen that doesn't irritate sensitive, delicate facial skin, let me know.

Paul continues to set up our faux-kitchen in the workshop. We actually have the kitchen triangle happening... it's just that the fridge is about 18 feet from the stove, which is about 25 feet from the sink. But hey, who said cooking couldn't be an aerobic workout?

I will admit to becoming ungracefully impatient last night-- I kind of 'lost it' trying to make dinner out of boxes of food and dishes all over the workshop floor... I think Patience is going to be one of the gifts of this place to me. But wait-- Paul's just informed me the cabinets are set up and ready to fill. Halleluja, no more worrying about mice getting into the dry goods. (More on Mice later).

Here are more shots of our living quarters for the next few months:

The view from our 'livingroom'.

My task of the the last two days has been tackling the North Garden, which in the busy-ness of everything we let go not only to weed, but to seed. This is where the green house will be moved to, and where I'll have my compost system built out of wood pallets, so I'll be grassing this in next spring so we can have truck access for all the lovely loads of manure we'll be bringing in. We won't be composting kitchen waste there, though-- it goes into an Earthsaver bin that I brought from Victoria, and locals have said bears won't bother with it as long as there's no meat products thrown in (we never compost meat waste anyway).


Here's a picture of the South Garden.
Doesn't the gazing ball just look positively
radiant with promise? The North Garden will be mainly for veggies, because of it's proximity to the kitchen. My vision for this garden, located roughly at the 'front' of the house, is to plant more raspberries (including the local black raspberry that looks like a small blackberry), herbs, and cutting flowers. It might turn out as a simple maze, we'll see.

Ok, dinner calls: grilled steak and smashed potatoes, kholrabi, and garlic, and greens (all local).

Oh, one last thing-- Cassius has asked me to include his list of accomplishments to date: dozens of field mice, one bird that we know of, and one small fruit bat. Thank you Paul for dealing with the corpses, even in the middle of the night. And to Cassius for revelling in your Catness.