July 2006 Archives
Finally, finally, finally. We've been gathering produce from the garden for the last two weeks, mostly just cucumbers and green beans for now; the tomatoes are growing but still green. Finally this weekend we had enough time and enough cucumbers to pickle. We gathered all the stuff , chilled the cukes down, then presto-chango, we got pickles; 15 pints, 9 pints of Forever Crisp Dill and 6 pints of my favorite, Bread and Butters. Now we just have to wait a couple weeks and then check them out.
Jeff's one request for the garden was to grow cucumbers. Odd, I know...and somewhat suggestive in an almost dirty way. But I'm game and since I absolutely drew the line when he also asked for corn, I thought it was the least I could do to put out a few cucumbers. He's overall goal, though, was not cucumbers per se, but rather, the infamous and highly sought-after Stein Family Pickle Recipe that everyone talks about but which no one, apparently, has ever written down. Jeff recalls Aunt Kitty's pickles the way someone who smells a pine tree recalls a favorite, perfect Christmas.
So part one of Summer of Pickles was to get some cucumbers up and running. Like the problems with the tomatoes and peppers, I had to buy them in multi-packs so the idea of only putting out two or three cucumber vines turned into putting out eight. And somehow, by last count, two more have spontaneously generated from God knows where. Anyone uninitiated in the ways of vine-bearing vegetables should know that ONE vine of anything: squash, eggplants, zuchini, etc. is plenty. Two is enough to put some away for a cold, winter's day. Eight (or ten) is just ridiculous. Jeff didn't quite grasp this when I sent him out to the garden to count all the little yellow blooms covering the vines. He wanted to know why he was counting them and I said, "because you're going to have a cucumber for every one of those blooms." He now has some concerns.
As there are many ways to skin a cat, there are as many ways to make pickles. Typically canning can be employed as well as just throwing them into crocks with a brick on top (if you can find crocks anymore). Jeff's family's recipe, while written down now, is vague and carries the even worse warning about doing anything wrong that would make the pickles soggy and soft as well as being unflavorful. Apparently no one should even bother attempting them if you're going the way of soggy. I've never made pickles one way or another, preferring to buy my bread-n-butter stackers from Vlasik, but who am I not to take on a homemaker's challenge like making and putting up pickles. So I've hired the great lady up in our neck of the woods who was canning and preserving from before she could walk, to come and teach us all she knows about pickles. She also has a family recipe she's willing to share with us so I think this is going to be a win for everyone.
And here is one of a gazillion baby cukes on its way to making us Pickle-licious.
With all the bird feed we've been hauling in over the last few years, it's no wonder that we've developed quite a thriving little community of critters. This year, we seem to have a group of six or seven chipmunks who spend the days running to and fro, very busy with their own little agendas. If I have bird seed out, they're right on the feeders, filing up their little cheeks and running it back to their burroughs and holes. I guess, because they're not really disturbing my garden, I kind of like the little guys. They're cute and inquisitive and make for an interesting afternoon of watching.
So today, because the little guys have gotten so bold as to eat seed only a few feet from where we usually sit, I wanted to see if I could get one to eat out of my hand. Here's the set up which is how I sat for about an hour, with little piles of seeds leading ultimtely to my hand. Eventually, one of the little guys, who we named, wait for it....Chippy, finally came and found the motherload, a whole palmful of seeds just for him. He'd pack his cheeks, run off to hide them and then come back for more. Jeff was worried that either I'd get rabies or lice from the little thing and/or he'd bite my junk since I was doing this au naturale (as is our typical weekend state of dress). As far as I can tell, neither thing happened (though rabies does have an incubation period).
I can honestly say it was the best spent hour of the weekend.
I took Jeff to see 'Superman Returns' last night after seeing it for myself last week. We were packed into a Manhattan theater on 86th street with several hundred of our closest strangers so the movie starts out just fine and we settle back into our uncomfortable seats for the next three hours.
And then the New York City moving-going experience starts. There is a REAL Superman fan who, after Superman rescues the crashing jetliner, instructs everyone loudly that we should all be clapping because, "Yo, that's Superman! Damn straight that is Superman. Clap, y'all!" So everyone snickers and claps. Then this very enthusiastic lady continues to bark out pro-Superman comments the entire movie. As if we're not all excited to have Superman back and have a decent, watchable movie (albeit some rather glaring deviations from the Superman legend, several of which she apparently agreed with which marked her in the eyes of fanboys as total phony. I was in that camp).
I give the movie a B+ for carrying on the flag of the original two movies and great FX. I give the Manhattan movie going experience of seeing Superman Returns a big fat D.
