Clucky Business

I wish I had taken my camera out to take pictures of our growing little menagerie.  The chickens are a constant source of entertainment.  I have stood and watched them without another thought in mind except to observe their constant comings and goings.  For me, they are a joy.  

We live in a place where fences are considered rude and suspicious (it's a weird little place this town).  And for most of the last eight seasons we have managed without one.  With regard to Las Gallinas is that their coop is out in the open for all to see.  This has led to some wonderful and less than wonderful events.  First the wonderful:  I speak with some neighbor or two every day now.  Before the ladies arrived in their stylish coop, I cannot remember the last time I spoke with my neighbors in passing.  This has as much to do with me as it does with them.  I admit it.  I was hiding out.  Now that I am the only person amongst 800 souls rearing hens, it will take some schmoozing to unruffle those neighborhood feathers.

We actually have a regular Lenten act of kindness.  Okay, it isn't perfect because it is a little self-serving, but we started.  We like it doing it and we will continue.  What is it?  Well, I take some children and a full basket of eggs door-to-door and we share our bounty of cackleberries.  I am able to discuss the legal aspects of chicken keeping along with meeting new people and hearing their stories.  Sometimes I will have a 5 minute exchange, sometimes it is 30 minutes.  It is wonderful to hear who raised birds of their own growing up and who was chased by their rooster.  One neighbor told me a story about how when she and her husband lived in a Pittsburgh apartment they ordered 10 geese for Easter from a hatchery.  She would raise them until they feathered out and then donate them to a local man who raised the birds for meat and eggs (that's a pretty sweet deal for him).  Anyway, that year the hatchery first sent out 24 straight run day old chicks, which they wouldn't allow her to return.  They followed this with 10 ducklings and 10 goslings.  She said their were birds in the bathtub, on the balcony, and in the living room.  And then at 4 weeks, it turned out her straight run chicks were actually all ROOSTERS and they all started to crow.  I can't even imagine.  Eventually, she donated everyone to a local petting zoo.  And not surprisingly, she has not ordered any birds since.

The not so wonderful thing is that we have one neighbor who has resorted to calling anyone and everyone about the chickens.  Her complaining has been fairly frustrating and shrill, but what are you going to do?  Not everyone loves you all the time.

Pictures next time and more news.  More stories if I get them.  I know this was boring.  Thanks for hanging in there.
 

Catching Up

In two years a lot can change. It did and did not.

We are still here at the Little House on the Hill.  Johnstown is still culturally a challenging place to live.  Friends have described it as, 'the grey valley' (it is), and also as 'a valley full of Eeyore's' (stunningly accurate observation, Scot).

Anyway, it occurs to me that this prospective vocation of Mr. Flavius will see plenty of grey valleys and too many Eeyores worth counting. Working for the church isn't all incense and rose windows.  If I am not prepared to accept that then I would be quite naive.  Johnstown has a had several hard and challenging lessons, but the area has some silver linings.

The ACROD got a new bishop.  Bishop Gregory is a warm man with a heart for the church and her people.  New to the CR bunch is more rigorous fasting.  Don't ask me why I am excited about asceticism and bland diets, but it gets me all choked up to see fasting ratatouille recipes in the Cathedral bulletin.

I was pregnant in December and January.  We don't know why, but the baby died.  We did not know that he had died, but I had had some clues that all was not well with this pregnancy.  I wasn't tired particularly.  I had no morning sickness.  These are pretty bad signs as far as pregnancies go. For some reason, new life cannot come into this world absent a state of near narcolepsy and near hyperemesis gravidarum.  I need to quit discussing potential medical events with my father.  Last time I joked about breaking my leg, I did.  A day or two before the miscarriage began, I told him I wasn't entirely certain this pregnancy was going to "stick."  Though, at the time it wasn't a sad thought, just a possibility on a list of possibilities that never really seemed plausible despite at my utterance.

It took about a a day and a half.  And the first half, I would have fleeting thoughts that I was in labor, but that didn't seem real, so I dismissed it until I saw the blood.  And then it wasn't one or two, but three trips to the Emergency Room before I was admitted, but I was in shock having lost too much blood, and in a dangerous way.  "You need emergency surgery," they said. And then the priest came and anointed me with oil from the vigil lamp of St. John Maxomovitch.  And the doctor came back and said, "Your hemorrhage has stopped. You can go."  Daughter, your faith has healed you.  Go in peace and be well from your suffering.  

For forty days, I drowned in grief and depression.  Then repentance and the memorial and relief.  The pall passed, I did not die with my son, I did not drown utterly in my depression, I was not abandoned though maybe at times I wanted to be.  There are still tears, but there is also joy.  The memorial was a bitter-sweet celebration.  And we did celebrate.  In prayer and with feasting.  And I was able to say, Christ is risen and have JOY.  Nothing could have been more shocking or more natural.  Funny, how these things happen.  God is great.

In other news, we have added a few creatures to Little House on the Hill Homestead.  A couple of American Blue Rabbit does have joined the family and as of yesterday a small flock five of Rhode Island Red hens.  The plan is to breed the rabbits in May.  American Blue Rabbits are the rarest of the American breeds and included in the American Livestock Breed Conservancy program. They were recently upgraded to Threatened which is good.  They are primarily a meat and fur breed, but have very sweet dispositions and are very good mothers.  They are a large breed rabbit, which for our tumble bumble family is a good thing.  I am loving having the girls.  I am having rabbit dinner dreams.

 The hens, of course, just do their chicken thing.  I am super happy to say they are doing great, laying an egg each a day (which is really something).  I bought started pullets (for an unbelievable $5 apiece.  Thank you, Lord) and as luck would have it they just started laying this week.  Of course, I just checked on them and the birdbrains are all roosted under the coop like a bunch of idiots.  It is, of course, snowing.  At some point they will figure out it is warm and dry IN the coop.

We've had a bunch of birthdays.  We've made some friends.  We have had heartache and doubt.  We have cursed this place, each other, the discernment process.  I am pretty homesick these days.  I miss our parish and our family and all our friends.  But, most importantly, we are still here, Dammit.  Virtuti Moena Cedant.  The family motto isn't wasted on this bunch.  Just taking things one day at a time.

Ramblings and Nopalitos

Hi.
I'm back.  Sort of.  We'll see.


Let's talk about the eating part of Lent.  Lent is not actually about food, but for all practical purposes it may sometimes seem like it is about food.  I know that doesn't make a lot of sense, but if you are an Orthodox Christian you will understand what I mean.

Now if we were fasting perfectly, we would be eating (or not eating in some instances) small simple meals of essentially nutmeats and dried fruits or raw fruits or vegetables and bread and praying and acting in love towards our neighbors.  Evagrius said that one of the Fathers used to say, “Eat a little without irregularity; if charity is joined to this, it leads the monk rapidly to the threshold of apatheia [apatheia is defined as “the state of being unmoved by passion; this involves control of the passions rather than their destruction.”] (#6, p. 64) See?  Not about food.

The problem is I am not a desert mother.  And neither are my kids.  Worse, I am not even shooting for desert parenthood status.  I'm just trying to make it to bedtime.

Without crowing about it, we try to keep the fast, even with the kids.  I do keep milk in the fridge, but we keep the meals fast-worthy.  

When we lived in Texas, my favorite lenten addition was cactus or nopales.  Of course, Johnstown, Pennsylvania has little in the way of Latin American immigrants and therefore no cactus leaves.  Or so I thought.  

You see, one day I visited our local Big Bird Supermarket and used the self-checkout.  All I needed was some celery, but alas it lacked the appropriate UPC code (94070).  So I scrolled through the directory and lo! there they were.  Opuntia ficus-indica..  Now, the rule at the local Big Bird is:  if it is on their list, they can get it.  And that is true, but first you have to convince some one that you actually want it, that you are willing to buy the entire box.  Second, that you really want it and that you are willing to pay for the whole, entire box.  Annnnnnd finally that you really want it and you are willing to buy the whole, entire, 10+ pound box.  At retail.  THE WHOLE THING.  JUST GIMME THE BOX!!  JUST ORDER IT AND I WILL BUY IT! AAAAAAARRRRRRRRGH!!!!

Excuse me.  Sorry.  It was an ordeal, but I never really understood why.

Anyway, I've been chatting up these South of the Border treats quite a bit on The Social Network and it occurred to me that unless you have some sort of Latino connection, preparing this suckers might be a thorny situation. Heh.

How to Pick 'Em
So if you have seen these babies hanging around your local fruit-stand this is what to look for:  young pads, the size of your hand or smaller.  They should look green (like lettuce), firm, crisp, and succulent (since Optunia are after all succulents).  The fewer the spines the better.  And believe it or not, there are spineless varieties.   Rejoice if you find them.  Cactus leaves will keep in the fridge about a week.





How to Prepare Them
Obviously you do not want a mouth full of spines.  Or a hand full of spines for that matter.  It hurts like the dickens, for starters, and it takes days to get those near invisible red spines out of your fingers.  I use a razor sharp paring knife and a quart size freezer bag as my glove.  This way I can quickly clean and cut each pad down to size.  It helps if they are cold.  So 'glove' your holding hand with the baggie taking the knife trim the edges of all their spines.  Then holding the pad flat to the cutting board, scrape or slice off those spines with your super sharp paring knife.  Trim the stem end.  Rinse and repeat with the rest of the leaves.  When you have completed your task slice the leaves into ½" squares (nopalitos) or you can leave them whole as your recipe requires.  

How to Cook Them
Depending on the recipe you choose there are several options:  parboil, sauté, roast, or grill.  For Lenten, oil free preparations, parboiling is best.  Slice a little onion, crush a garlic clove, add the nopalitos, cover with water and boil for about 3 or 4 minutes.  DO NOT OVERCOOK IT.  It will be a slimy mess.  My favorite preparation with parboiled napoles is Nopales Salad.  Nothing could be more simple.  Dice some tomatoes, a little onion and garlic, either some jalepeño or dried red chile flakes, and some cilantro.  What can you put this on?  What can't you put it on?  Today I sautéed boiled potatoes and beans with some of this delightful ensalada and served these as tacos.  Over some steamed squash (particularly this guy).  Garnish soups with it or some vegan enchiladas.  

¡Buen provecho!

Still not convinced?  They taste like zippy-tangy green beans.
 Live a little, amigo!  Try it; you'll like it. 

Happy Labor Day!

"Look at your hands," he said.

He told us of the times past when our forebears, many of whom were newly emigrated to this land or were the first generation born of immigrant parents, worked the farms, steel mills, in textiles, on rigs, criss crossing this country working hard to provide from their family too proud to take a government handout.  He spoke of his father-in-law, who built his family's home. He kept a meticulous log of all his efforts.  On each and every week he wrote this entry:  

SUNDAY

NO WORK

"No matter what happened or did not happen during that week- Sunday was the Lord's day."

Our grandparents kept the Sabbath holy by not working.  If you read the Little House Books, you know that this was not some habit brought over by pious Catholic and Orthodox immigrants.  This was the way it was.  No work, no play.  Go to church, pray, read your bible.

"What have we permitted?  How could we allow this to happen?" he exclaimed.

It is not hard to see the signs of work, no matter how short your journey to church is.  Clothes swaying in the wind and the perfume of clothes drying in the dryer, bubbles floating on the breeze from a car being washed up the street, the sound of whirring lawn mowers and trimmers, not to mention people who go to jobs on Sunday.  How many people who work all week use their one day off to clean house or host guests or cook a huge Sunday dinner?  What are we doing?

"Look at your hands, " he said again.  "These are the hands that do God's work."  Be they the hands of a mother or a engineer or a carpenter, these hands do God's work and God rested on the Sabbath.  Did you know that the neither the Amish or Orthodox Jewish women do any work on the Sabbath (granted these are different days).  All of the housekeeping, food preparation, laundry, everything that can be done is done the day before so that as much as possible these woman can spend their time in the worship and in prayer and resting in the Lord.  

With seven children this is something I am really bad about doing.  I can always find work.  Yesterday I hung two loads of laundry on the line before church and cooked a massive lunch after.  I am more often than not more tired on Sunday than I am at the end of a long week.  Even though we call it a family day, we often spend a fair amount of time doing chores instead of communing together.  It is time to stop-- to take the rest the Lord commanded for every week, not just one day a year.  

All of this talk about work reminded me of a funny story about my good friend, Mandy's, great-grandmother.  After her granddaughter married and had her first child, three generation of the family's women came together to see the new baby.  A young Marynell began to tell her grandmother of the wonderful gift from her husband, a new washer and dryer set.  She explained that she could finish all the laundry in just a couple hours.  Her grandmother was stunned by this information.  She sat silently for a second and then finally asked, "But what will you do all day?"

Yes, it is true that I will work today as I have worked every other day for more than a decade, but it is also true that it is time to reclaim the original labor day.  It is time to rest on the Lord's Sabbath.

Big Bottom Girls Make the Rockin' World Go 'Round

and the same is true for Johnstown apparently.

Johnstown, and its inhabitants as I have said have there very own breed of charm.  For instance,  down South, church ladies and other strangers will readily compliment a new baby.  If, for instance, the baby has a particularly prominent feature like big eyes or chubby thighs, it is not unusual for one to hear exclaimed, "those eyes!"  Or, "look at those thighs!  What a cutie!"

This is what you hear in Johnstown, PA.

"Look at that baby!  Looks like she has a chew in each cheek!"

Down South, a man upon seeing a girl he admires might chance a low whistle or a wink or a smile and tip of his hat.  In Johnstown, they aren't shy about giving compliments.  For instance, on my way to Downtown Johnstown's landmark eatery  Coney Island Lunch, I was told by a passerby, "Hey, you'd make the perfect, plus-sized model, lady."

Let's just say, I laughed out loud for a good ten minutes.

What a weird, great, little place.

Seven Quick Takes:

1. The eldest five children begin school the day after tomorrow.  Mr. Flavius and I are sicker than dogs.  I am feeling a little out matched with all there is to do before I shuffle them out the door into a new routine.  Spending most of the mornings stuffed into bed coughing and feeling miserable doesn't help.
2. My sister-in-law is making the journey to visit us.  This will be our first guest.  In 12 years of homeownership, we've only had 2 overnight stays.  We have four sets of guest between now and Christmas (that I know about).  I am very much looking forward to her visit, but I am on a strict all work and no play schedule between now and her visit in a week and a half.
3. House blessing.  Still working on making a path so that Fr. Nick can bless and sprinkle away with abandon without breaking his neck.
4. On Friday, the kids and I went garage saling.  Johnstown has great sales.  I guess this is one of the secret upsides to a greying community.  We found several good pen knives, a very good pair of Korean War era binoculars from Japan, some fabulous costume jewelry, and some beautiful perfume bottles that I did not buy, but wanted to very much.  Driving through the twists and turns we came upon a huge Chicken of the Woods mushroom growing on a maple tree along side a driveway.  The man very generously gave us the behemoth and many pears.  It's going in an omelet first chance I get.
5. Mr. Flavius began classes today.  No one died.  I think that I will be okay while he is away.  I've had my doubts, but really it will be fine.
6. I am scouting jars for putting up strawberry and violet leaves for healing herbal teas for this winter.  Also, we have been offered as many Concord grapes as we can pick.  I cannot decide if I should put up juice or make jelly or what all I could possibly do with such a generous gift.  I'm sure the children will assist me in the endeavor.  Also, these are the last few weeks for local tomatoes and cucumbers and it really is time to start the sauerkraut too....  So much to do!
7. I am coming up with my Autumnal List of things to break up the monotony of everyday homemaking.  So far soap making, sausage making, crocheting, and canning autumn fruits figure high on the list.  We hope to add a fence, a coop, and a bee hive to the yard by next Spring.  Lots to do and keep busy.

A Joyous Feast!

From the Forefeast of the Dormition of the Theotokos:

Dance with joy, O peoples!

Clap your hands with gladness!

Gather today with fervor and jubilation;

Sing with exultation.

The Mother of God is about to rise in glory,

Ascending from earth to heaven.

We ceaselessly praise her in song as truly Theotokos.

Today the universe dances with joy at your glorious memorial,

And cries out to you, O Mother of God:

"Rejoice, O Virgin, pride of Christians!"