picture by Natalie Dee


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For reference tomorrow.

Butter, softened (4 oz) 1#
Egg white ~ (.5 oz) 2 oz
Powdered sugar, sifted (8 oz) 2#
Vanilla extract (1/2 tsp) 2 tsp
Vodka (as needed)

Cream butter with paddle.
Add sugar and vanilla.
Adjust consistency with vodka in drops.

I had a very positive, life-affirming, hello-wake-up-to-your-true-self-of-happiness dream last night.

First I was up in a capsule that was meant for three with Alan Bean, and we're only as high as cruising altitude. The capsule flew like a plane at first; we took off, he did a flip (a loop-de-loop? What do you call that?) and then we were just flying along till something went wrong. As we're plummeting to earth, he yells for us to eject; we do, and I'm relieved that we'll be saved. Before we've had much of a chance to savor that, it's revealed to me that it's a simulation. What we were seeing through the main cockpit window was video put together from the original footage of the flight and computer magic has allowed the side views to fill the mock cockpit. Alan Bean tells me that it's a reenactment of an actual incident that happened when he flew in the real capsule. I remember shaking his hand and being overwhelmed at having survived, and wondering if what he felt was the same, since I had been so convinced it was real.

Then I am walking through some sort of food court and I am going to get something from Ven. Robina Courtin. I think it might have been sweet tea. I can't remember our exact exchange, but she told me that if I wanted to make changes in my life and if I wanted to be happy, all I had to do was to DO it, but I HAD TO DO IT. "Such a simple thing, but no one can do it for me."

So I am listening to one of her talks and trying to work on my mind and plugging along, and wondering about ejecting from a capsule, and thinking about Buddhism-based therapy (redundant?) and reading high school geometry tests and eating a Peep.

This is not a depressing post. It's not a poor-me post, or an illness post, or any of that. I just think about this a lot, and I have a lot of thoughts on the subject.

I have an eating disorder.

This means I think about food a lot. I think about what I will eat and when I will eat it. Although I am "recovered" -- I am a healthy weight and I eat three meals a day and snacks -- I still think about/stress over/cope with food. I still have to eat and I still have to wear clothes and look in the mirror and deal with my warped mind.

I also love to cook, bake, and eat.

This also means I think about food a lot. What I will make next, what I haven't tried. I like to try new things. The worst thing that can happen is that I don't like something and if it's really bad, I can spit it out. In food as in most things I make, my central philosophy is curiosity, as I've recently finally figured out (see Act 4). Once I find out how to make something or how something will turn out, my impetus for doing it is gone. I don't want to make the same thing over and over once I've done it well, sometimes to my friends' infinite sadness. (I'm thinking of a particular goat-cheese cheesecake with a cayenne/dark chocolate ganache and bourbon cherries. It was difficult, it was stressful, it came off better than I hoped, and it was well received. But I've done it, so when there are so many other things I want to bake, it's hard for me to do it again.) I wish I could still bake for a living and be able to have health insurance and make a living wage. I love making quality things that other people enjoy.

I am concerned about where my food comes from and how it is produced.

We have raised our own hens on organic feed in order to collect their eggs, which with their nearly-orange yolks and savory whites have spoiled me for anything else. Jen grows a garden that provides us with all the greens we can eat and then some, and a few extras here and there, radishes and carrots and cucumbers and tomatoes and herbs. We belong to a CSA (and try not to waste its bounty twice a month). We are beginning our rabbit-raising venture so that we can be responsible for our own meat, from animals we have known since birth, treated humanely, and killed ourselves. I'm learning how I can preserve the food we do produce; I've pickled and canned jam. I look forward to learning to cook with rabbit and one day learning to tan their hides.

Food is important to me. I am thankful every day that I have enough, and grateful that I've made a life that allows me to produce some of what I eat. I hope that each step we take with the Chance Ranch lets us produce a little more and eat a little better. One day, I'd like to be able to do more than that; I'd like to get involved with food advocacy, small farmers, and access to healthy food for more people. Everyone deserves a good diet of wholesome food, and I am thankful that I have the skills to cook for myself and my family.

My dad came up on Friday night, and Jen and I, my dad, and Mark spent all day yesterday and till 3 o'clock today building a rabbit hutch. I'm excited; it's definitely a step up from the dog crates they're living in now, and the sooner we get them settled, the sooner we have rabbit meat! Jen says the Chance Ranch is finally feeling like it's worth calling a ranch.



Things left to do:

* Shingle the roof. The tar paper that came with the house, which we used to cover the chicken coop roof, is done for after two years in the elements. We have less than a box of shingles left, too, so we'll be looking on Craigslist for someone who's got some left over from their own project.

* We need to hang another 2x4 and move the cages up about a foot, so they're under the roof more. This wasn't apparent till the 4x4s had been cut and placed and everything was all nailed up into place, but it will be easy enough to remedy. Then we'll have to drill new holes for the PVC pipes that support the cages (need to plug up those open pipes) and pop those into place. Jen wants to hang planters on what will become the lower 2x4.

* Buy some shade fabric and hang it from the front and sides; it'll be so you can roll it up or have it down and attached to the front. I wanted to leave it as open as possible for ventilation, especially in the summer.

* The cages are all removable and their own discrete units. I still need to cut the door openings and mount the feeders and water bottles, and put Fuggles (the buck) in and get rid of Lance (the cryptorchid boy bunnny) and buy two lady bunnies for Fugs. Fuggles gets the 2'x6" cage and the ladies get 2x2s, since for a decent portion of their lives they'll be switched in and out of the 4'x2" breeder cage.



* The open bottom lets the poop fall through to what's going to be a giant worm bin, once Jen makes it some sides sandbox-style. (I guess I will have to screen that, too, so the chickens don't think it's an open bar.) Rabbit droppings aren't "hot" (they don't need to be composted before using them on your garden) and they won't hurt worms in a bin below them, who will also be composting some of our kitchen waste.

Once all that's done, I can make a sign for the Hop House. All the rabbits are going to be named after varieties of hops (see also: Fuggles), so it's appropriate.

Now, does anyone want a one-balled bunny?

Spacing

From Mother Earth News:
Each doe or buck should have a hutch that's at least 3 feet long, 2-1/2 feet deep, and 1-1/2 or 2 feet high. You can construct the sides and top of a "rabbit palace" out of small-gauge chicken wire, but be sure to use only sturdy (and easy-on-the-furry-feet) 1/2' X 1" galvanized hardware wire for the cage floor. The entire box can be framed on the outside with wood or metal (be careful ... rabbits will chew on any exposed wooden members) and should be constructed so that it stands well off the ground.

9-11 lbs 540 sq in
864 for nursing does

OR
4 sq feet
6 sq feet

Nesting boxes

From Mother Earth News:
Lastly, you should make a nesting box for each doe to use when she "kindles" (gives birth). This bunny nursery can be built out of wood and sized to be about 18-22 inches long by one foot wide by one foot high. Also, fasten a 3- to 9-inch wood strip along the bottom of its otherwise unobstructed front end— to keep the newborns from rolling out— and leave the top partly open to allow ventilation.


This is awesome.

Setup for one buck and two does. We can also omit one of the "fattener" pens and switch the does out, if we only have one litter at a time.

How to make a wire cage with J-clips.

Those cages hung on a PVC frame. This would be OK if we didn't have to worry about predators; we'll need a more sturdy setup.

PDF: This is way too involved, but it might be useful for something.

Another: This might be useful, too, though it's not exactly right.

I got a little distracted by the fire we made last night and left my purse out on the picnic table. Of course it had to be the dewiest morning of the year, and it was soaking when I remembered it this morning. Ooooooops.

We've been trying to make a lot of fires lately, since we have so much cut wood to get through. Piles and piles. At this rate it'll be years before we even get to the Aggie Bonfire in the back.

There's an axe at Lowe's that's going to find a new home this week when we exchange the bench. Then there will be chopping and more burning.

Hey, look! I didn't get beaten by dolphins or consumed by my hair or gently but firmly kicked by a giraffe. In fact, even though I have been a very, very bad girl about updating, I've still been doing lots of pretty things. Here's one:


( click to continue )

We came home today to the chickens in the front yard. No Araminta. She's always by herself; whenever the rest of the flock is doing something, she is always off doing something else. So I wasn't too worried, but then it got later. We went to the feed store and came back for my purse -- no Araminta. We went back to the feed store and came back home -- no Araminta. I called the ladies in with their chicken scratch and listened in the woods for her -- still no Araminta.

She was the one who always peeped (and then clucked and bocked) the loudest. She peeped her heart out in the cardboard box all the way home from the feed store. She had a little black mark on her back then and she kept it, one single black feather on her golden back. She was skittish like the other Ameraucanas, but she was always the first to try new things -- the first to drink, the first to eat, the first to venture out of the box when we let the pullets outside. She was our "early adopter." She had my favorite name of the whole bunch.

I hope your death was quick or that you're still wandering around somewhere, and safe. We'll keep an eye out for you, Araminta.

Yesterday was the day of "oh, that's what a migraine is," so today will be a catch-up post for Day 4, and Day 5's pictures will come tonight.

Day 4 was Sunday. I was told that I was Moonpie's after 3, so I had exactly an hour to get started on my project for the day...



( What could it be? )