Thanks For The Roots Of Our Labor



Even though the ground has frozen, it doesn't mean there still isn't work to be done in the garden.  Or that there is still access to food from the garden.  This past weekend I got to, for the first time, get root vegetables ready for the root cellar at Coggeshall Farm Museum.

 

Now I've never had a root cellar before.  So this was all new to me.  I have grown root vegetables before.  Carrots, parsnips, beets, and turnips!  I know onions are a root veggie as well, but they certainly don't belong in a damp root cellar.  And though I was not there in the spring to start the growth of these particular root veggies, I know how time consuming they can be.  Having the right soil texture to grow straight and true.  And how parsnips seem to decide whether or not they truly want to grow from seed, or in the garden bed you plant them in.  And the great turnip saga that I have every year, and I'll update everyone on in the spring when I probably, once again, do something stupid to jeopardize the existence of my turnips only to find that they are resilient suckers and will not die because of my stupidity.  And carrots, it wasn't until this year, in a different garden, that I was able to successfully grow some excellent carrots on my own.  Only 6 years!

 

But those were other gardens and this time our parsnips did excellent, our beets did alright, our carrots were incredible, and our turnips numbered six in total.  But like anything in gardening, it could be the complete opposite next year. 



 

So Shelley, farm manager at Coggeshall Farm Museum and gardener extraordinaire, and I started in the late morning of this past Saturday, battling wind and a head cold.  At least I was battling a head cold.  They're not fun.  But the biggest battle was to come.  We had to get all the root vegetables in before dark because it was supposed to get down to the teens in temperature.  Now you're supposed to wait till the first frost happens for the root veggies before preparing them to go into the root cellar.  But a ground freeze wouldn't be good.  I guess the integrity of the vegetable.

So Shelley, pictured here, and I had our work cut out for us.  The first bed we tackled was the parsnip bed, and you can see in the baskets the fruit of our labor. 

A labor that took several hours because, unlike the beets and carrots, the parsnips didn't want to be pulled out of the ground by hand.  So a shovel and a pitchfork became our best friends as we loosened the soil and prayed we didn't cut up too many of them.  Cuts would just make them rot in the root cellar. 

Then we pulled out the beets and carrots.  By this point the warmer weather of the morning (if you call high thirties warm) was turning colder and windier and warmer hats and gloves became a necessity.  By now you must have notices that every picture has had a knife in it.  If you take a look at some of the carrots in the basket you'll notice the tops have been mostly cut off.  When you are putting up root vegetables you need to leave some of the top on, to trick the vegetable into a dormant state, without wanting it to rot.

Look at this carrot!  Please leave all lewd comments to yourselves.  I know what it looks like, to man who doesn't need to overcompensate.  I technically thought it was cool that there was three carrots in one.  But, now seeing it a second time, I can now see the other side of the carrot story.

Once the veggies were prepped and carried to the root cellar they were laid out on the ground to allow the shallow roots that grow off the sides of the root veggies themselves, sorry I don't remember the name, to die off, also causing the root veggies to grow dormant.  That way they don't continue to grow leaves or rot.  Those are the carrots in the picture above.

And those are the beets and the parsnips we picked earlier.  Again laid out on the floor to cure for a few days.  Now they only cure for a few days until they are packed in clean sand and kept for the winter, to be used as needed.  It was a really great feeling, once everything was laid out and it still was light out and we got in all the root veggies in that needed to be brought in, even though my hands were frozen and my head was fuzzy from phlegm.  It truly made me thankful for the "roots" of our labor. (Sorry for the pun.)

And, to end the post on a good note, cute kitties staying warm by the fire.

Coming Full Circle

So, even though it was rainy and cold, I went to Old Sturbridge Village today.  And I did not take the above picture today, but in spring about two years ago at Old Sturbridge Village.  Just thought I would clarify that.

I was at Sturbridge Village to do some shopping for the museum I work for now.  So technically it was a business trip.  But the nice people at the admissions booth allowed me to come in for free because I was also a fellow historical interpreter, and they realized how little one gets paid for that.  But it was also because of the love of the work that we do that also sparked this comradeship. At least I hope it is.

Now I've been to the Old Sturbridge Village many times before this.  In fact, on a famous day in July (called the 4th) in the year 1976, a very important event happened at Old Sturbridge Village.  Though everyone will think it was that famous Kennedy visit, they may be right.  But that's because they might not have known that an even more important group of people was also at Old Sturbridge Village that day. (Wow, no wonder they use OSV everywhere. So much easier.)  Yes, that's right, that very important couple that was there that day happened to be my parents, newly married just two days before and visiting during their honeymoon.  Now little did they know that this seemingly innocuous act would change the course of the life of their then unborn daughter.  Because in that day a tradition was born, one that was kept every single anniversary while I lived under their roof, and even a few after that.  The annual visit to Old Sturbridge Village. (Ok, from now on I'll use OSV).

Yes, I visited OSV every summer for as long as I could remember.  And I loved it every year.  Often times, as historical interpreters, people figure out the turning point that showed the world that we were destined to an impoverished state while dressing up as people from another time period and speaking in long, historical terms, or in funny accents. And for me going to OSV every year was that point. The point when I realized that I wanted to live in the past, for real.  This began the addiction to pretending to be on the Oregon Trail.  The hours spent reading and rereading Little House on the Prairie and every American Girl book available at that time.  Many days running around in a long green skirt and apron, surviving off acorns and a stew made from leaves and mud in the dog's water bowl.  My mom always loved that one. 

And, for one day every year, I got to run around a village that was fully immersed in the 1830's New England and totally feel like I had finally an opportunity to live in the past.  I got to walk through historic homes, smell woodsmoke, see farm animals, and run around on dirt roads pretending I was actually living there.  I have a very vivid memory of when I went to OSV in third grade.  I remember they had a pretend classroom set up and we were all pretending to have a day at school in 1830 and it made me so excited.  I was fully immersed in the past.  It was heaven for me.

But, at some point we all have to grow up.  We all have to move on, realize that we can't live in the past, really far back in the past.  Or so I thought.

So I went to college, met my husband, graduated from college, married my husband, worked at several jobs.  Completely normal for an adult in her mid-twenties.  But it was during my internship at the New Bedford Whaling Museum that I stumbled upon the Plimoth Plantation website.  And, just for giggles, I thought I would check and see if they had any offerings.  How cool would that be.  To work outside while still working in a museum.  Yeah, that was my thought process at that time.  I had been doing alot of museum research and document recording and the one thing I realized was I hated having to sit at a desk all day, inside, with stale air and bad lighting.  So the concept of doing work outside, yet still following my interest in museum work and research into preservation and material documentation.  So, I thought, why not try it out.

Needless to say, this was the beginning of a childhood dream, come back to me in my adult life.  I not only got to work outside, and do research, I got to pretend to live in the year 1627!  Fully immersed in not only the year 1627, but also with a very select group of people, the Pilgrims.  And so, everything came full circle.  I got to run around in a green petticoat (for at least one season, till it was replaced with my blue one) and make really tasty "pottages" in real cast iron pots (rather than a dog's water dish) and got paid for it!  Everything had come full circle, in a way I never had thought of.

And now, having spent six years at the Plantation, I've now moved on to another museum and another time period, Coggeshall Farm Museum and the 1790s.  Not only do I get access now to chocolate, coffee, and rum, I also get to expand my interpretation work in embracing another time period in history.  And I can still work outside!  Though to be honest working in these time periods has made me realize hot showers, air conditioning, and comfortable cotton clothing are definitely good reasons to not to truly live all the time in the past.

And that doesn't mean I'll stop there.  It seems my desire to live in historical time periods has rubbed off to my husband as well.  As we've started to visit recreations of Civil War battles, I'm beginning to see our family's future weekends, Mark going off the pretend to shoot at other people while I mind the kids dressed up in prairie dresses and civil war hats and cooking over a wood fire.  So there's another time period to add to my "I'm going to pretend to live in you but be really thankful for hot running water and toilets" work days and weekends.

But I can truly say that this all started when a newly married couple decided to go to Old Sturbridge Village on their honeymoon and decided to make it a yearly tradition.  A tradition that still made me excited even going around that village today.

It's funny how it all comes full circle.

The Contents of My Freezer

There are many different signs that the seasons are changing. 

The colors of the leaves turn from light green, to dark green, to vivid hues of red or yellow or orange, then turn brown and fall off the trees.  The sun grows in heat and in brightness only to fade into golden hues and bring in the colder temperatures.  The soft rains of spring turn to tumultuous thunderstorms to a cold rain that will soon turn to snow.

And the contents of my freezer change as well.

So not as romantic or poetical as the last few sentences.  But it was an epiphany that I had a few nights ago as I was trying to figure out what to make for dinner from the hodge podge of frozen meats and past cooked meals.  The things I started to pull out were not from my summer time menu. Chicken breasts in frozen in seasoned olive oil or frozen green beans from the farmer's market, frozen blueberries from a u-pick.  No, I dug a little deeper and found meals from my winter reserve.  Chili, pot roast gravy, my famous beef and barley soup.  It's time for winter foods.

It's amazing how the body just knows what it wants.  In this day and age it's very easy to get anything out of season.  You can get strawberries in February. You can eat red meat in the middle of summer with out it going bad.  You can even have ice cream in January.  And like any true New Englander I will always eat ice cream, even when it's snowing.  The point is that when you have access to everything you could possibly want for food at any time of year, you don't really need to think about the seasonality of it all.

Even with all this access though, I think we are still in tuned to the seasonality of our food.  When we think of summer we think salads, watermelon, and fish.  Foods that are light and cooling in the hot and humid summer days.  But as the cold of winter comes in the thought of a hearty stew or a good hot pot roast seems more appetizing than a tomato salad.  And it warms you up much better.

I know it doesn't seem like an epiphany.  I've already categorized these foods as summer and winter.  But it is a realization that even the habits of what I freeze, the habits of what I eat each season, change as surely as the weather, the trees, even the sun does.

Never gonna look at the contents of my freezer the same way again.

Slivers of Serenity

God, grant me the Serenity

To accept the things I cannot change

The courage to change the things I can

And the wisdom to know the difference.

 

 

There are times in my life where I find that the worries of the world just come over me.  Like I'm drowning in a sea of expectations and can't figure out if what I'm doing is what I truly want or if it is what I feel I need to do.

 

That's when I find I need to escape. To step back and breathe for a minute.  To really think about things.  Where I am, and where I'm going, and where I want to be.

 

This past week was a time to breathe.  Being amongst the glory of nature and tranquility that is the mountains, looking over the peace and serenity of a beautiful lake, finding myself appreciating all of what nature has to provide us with, I was able to truly look inside myself and discover where I am going, what it is I desire, and who I want to be.



 

Thank you nature for granting me the serenity I need.  Now time to find the courage to pursue it, with the wisdom to accept what can not be changed and change was can be for the best.

 

Thank you for helping me find my sliver of serenity.

 

Remember, Remember.....

.... the Fifth of November. 

The Gunpowder Treason Plot.

Ok, so it's not a picture of a huge bonfire, and there is no straw man being burned in effigy.

But it's still a beautifully warming fire.  And it certainly is the time of year of nice warm fires.

Nice, in control, not burning straw men fires.

Except for tonight. 

Happy Gunpowder Treason Plot day!!!