Sweet Samhain

Autumn energy

Fall is my favorite time of year. I can't help but take in as much of the crisp air, golden light and that unique scent of the declining year. You can almost feel the outdoors winding down.

We pulled the last bits of the harvest from the garden...

...and reveled in the final snatches of warmth--storing them on our bones to keep us warm through the winter.

We celebrated a birthday...

...and looked closely as some of the things in our little world that have begun to feel familiar only to find lots of unfamiliar things.

And after days of weather that nearly chilled us all to the bone, we had a warm and wet reprieve...

Note: He did start out with galoshes and an umbrella. By the end of this escapade, he was sitting in the puddles.

Of course, we've also had temper tantrums galore, 20 adults and 10 children in our too small home (including an experiement in doing a pinata inside amongst all said folk), five articles for Mother Earth News, and job interviews at least once a week for the hubby. Now the household is recovering from a case of the sniffles.

I would have posted some pumpkin pics, but the little bear has decided he is NOT interested in going to the pumpkin patch this year. Sigh. Maybe we should take to carving turnips. T'would be more historically accurate and wouldn't require dragging a very large three-year-old through a field kicking and screaming.

In the meantime, the countdown to All Hallow's Eve is underway and we've been waffling on whether or not to take our precocious (but temperamental as of late) little man to see Where the Wild Things Are movie. I've heard amazing things about it, but my parents managed to see it first (I suspect because they didn't trust our instincts on this one) and were "appalled" at how emotionally violent it was. Would love to get any blogmama opinions on this one.

Until next time....

Growing pains

My little man is heading toward three years old next month and is having serious growing pains. Despite being completely potty trained since February, he has decided he wants to wear diapers again. When we talk about his birthday party, he tells us he doesn't want to grow up. When someone mentions what a big boy he is, he says he wants to stay little forever. When did my son turn into Peter Pan? I thought this was't supposed to happen until his was a bit older.

I have to admit I'm stumped as to exactly how to respond. Consider it a phase and let him play baby? I'm hestitant. He was almost completely weaned at two years old when I was laid off from my full-time job. Let's just say he is still nursing late at night and at naptime almost a year later.

My mild-mannered, polite, and pleasant little boy has also gotten terribly grumpy, contradictory, inconsolable, mercurial and stressed out. Are these the "terrible twos" and how long are they supposed to last? I don't know if I'll still be standing when it's all said and done. Hell, I don't know if the house will still be standing when it's all said and done.

In sweeter news, there is at least one thing that has brought a big smile to my honeybear's face. A serendipitous dessert that disappeared in two days--a record for us, I believe.

What we're calling Black Forest Pear Tart is the perfect way to use up those almost-too-far-gone pears. It has the silkiest milk-less "custard" that slurps up the succulent fruit juices as the tart bakes, infusing the whole mess with the scent of sweet pear. For a cobbled-together recipe, it caught us completely off guard with it's wicked deliciousness.

Black Forest Pear Tart

1 all-butter crust (see Getting Crafty post from January)
5 bosc pears
1 cup blackberries
2/3 cup sugar
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 egg, beaten
1 teaspoon almond extract

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Roll out your crust and lay into tart or pie plate, trimming any overhang and crimping the edge. Slice the pears and arrange in the bottom of the crust. Scatter the blackberries atop the pears. Mix the sugar, lemon juice, eggs and almond extract in a small bowl with a wisk to combine. Pour evenly over the fruit and pop in the oven for 50-60 minutes until the "custard" is set, the fruit is tender and the crust is golden brown. Let cool on a rack (if you can resist). Cut and serve when the tart still has a breath of the oven on it--a touch warm.

Snaps

Three apples up on top...

Sort of...

Making music...

Looking goblinish in his "Davie Bowie" mask....

Bareback...

Skivvy swimming...

Rockin'...

Pot luck

End of summer potluck at Eckerton Hill Farm....

I wish I had taken more pictures of the gorgeous and wickedly delicious food. Alas, I got carried away visiting.

So good to catch up with old friends and make a few news ones.

And so good to see Rowan running wild through the fields with a herd of other children.

Corn moon

After weeks of saying I was going to get some putting up taken care of, the day finally cooperated. In fact, the whole family had a great day at home, productively puttering. It must have been the corn moon working it's celebratory, harvest magic.

The papa got the reel mower out and quietly did lawn laps, Rowan entertained himself (for the most part), and the mama managed to actually get some large enough chunks of calm time to process and can.

This year we planted Chiogga beets instead of the standard blood red beauties. I do so love the labyrinthine pattern and they are so darn sweet when roasted. The jury is still out on how they stand up to pickling. They were much less messy, but there is something to say about the red-bordering-on-purple color of the standard pickled beet. I have to admit, I kind of miss it. These are attractive in their own right, but a little dull.

What turned out to be anything but dull was the wickedly delicious blueberry rhubarb jam. Let me start by telling you, I adore blueberries. Blueberry pie, blueberry crepes, blueberry muffins, blueberry pancakes. My mother knows better than to ask me to help pick either at her patch or any of the other "secret" woodland spots she frequents. I can spend all day picking and end up with a scant bucket of take-home harvest. One for me, one for the bucket...two for me, one for the bucket...three for me, one for the bucket. You get the picture.

What I don't like, have never liked, and swore would never like is blueberry jam. It's too sweet, too flat, too ugh. It always tastes like it's missing something. Like some ephemeral blueberry essence somehow escapes in the canning process never to return again.

But add a little rhubarb and whoa! That tart fiend inexorable linked with the strawberry gives the blueberry its groove back.

The best part about blueberries is, like under ripe apples, they act as the gelling agent. No pectin required. The naturally-thickened jam is tender, but certainly won't go running off your toast. This new-found collaboration may actually surpass raspberry-currant on my favorite jams list. (Yes, I have a favorite jams list. And am prone to buying ridiculous amounts of weird and wonderful preserves despite making my own each year.) I'm officially in love.

Blueberry Rhubarb Jam

8 cups blueberries
4 cups rhubarb, chopped into blueberry-sized pieces
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 cup water
4 cups sugar

In a large saucepan, combine blueberries, rhubarb, lemon zest, lemon juice, and water. Bring to a boil, stirring frequently, reduce heat and simmer gently for 10 minutes. Stir in sugar. Increase heat to high and boil vigorously about 10-15 minutes until jam begins to set (thickens and gets shiny), stirring frequently. Remove from heat, skim off foam and stir for 3 - 5 minutes to suspend fruit evenly throughout jam. Fill sterilized jars and seal.

Makes about 4 pint jars or 8 half pint jars.

Busy little bees

Who knew one could be so busy without a full-time job? Not I. We have been here, there, and everywhere the last month or so and I've let my devoted reading of all the lovely blogs out there languish. I've also been doing some writing for Mother Earth News magazine and have been so excited to have a few deadlines, I've let quite a few things slip. (Eh...blog, housecleaning, bill-paying...nothing of real importance.)

While I've been off galavanting, I received a "One Lovely Blog Award" from Docwitch over at Dark Side of the Broom. I then, of course, felt oh-so-guilty for slacking off, I had to get back on the horse as such and write something....hell, anything. So in the spirit of catching up, here is a quick photo montage of late June adventures. (July photos to follow when I retrieve my camera from my parents' camper later this week.)