Not a real selfie, but a photo of self from the side mirror of the Jeep, as I rode through the farm fields this past weekend.
During the long holiday weekend, the farm was a lively place with nearly all the kids and grandkids and a number of guests. Providing extra drama, were my two granddogs: Butter (a deaf, elderly Pug) and Bella (a lively Newfoundland pup). One wanted to play while the other just wanted to be left alone. Fortunately, there’s room enough at the farm for both people and pups to find their preferred niche, be it active or restful.
Come September
Natalie Imbruglia’s old song declares: “Everything wrong’s gonna be all right, come September.” Yes, time changes our perspective. As September rolls in, I typically get “fallish” thoughts. I pay a trip to the old pear tree to see if it has anything to offer. I hurry to squeeze in a few more pizza parties before shutting down the outdoor oven for the year. I check the wood pile.
Hopefully, there are more farm flings to be had in September before temperatures begin to drop and the days shorten. This past weekend we did our best to enjoy the waning days of summer. Follow the photo trail. . . .
Pears a-Plenty!
Yes, there are pears on our near-100-year-old fruit tree. But too often, the heavy clusters fall to the ground, where deer get to them before we do.
I’ve found that this sturdy pear tree has a will of its own, favoring us with heirloom fruit when it feels so inclined. Last year it just slept out the season. I consider a bountiful year a good omen; certainly our ancestors did. The rock hard pears soften slowly, making them good keepers through the winter months.
I recently ran on to an old recipe for pear pie. I’ve never made a pear pie, but I’m considering one after reading that these vintage pears make a good ingredient.
I’m uncertain of the variety of our tree, but the hard fruit is much like the old-time Kieffer pear.
It’s likely the pear tree was planted about the same time as this early 20th century house was built.
Making Pizza in the Cob Oven
It’s hard to find the right time to use the cob pizza oven. It’s either too hot to build a 700 degree fire or too cold to run pizzas from kitchen to oven without ear muffs and mittens. Or there’s too few people to bother building a wood fire, that takes hours to reach peak temperature. Or there’s too many people, when you’re having to cook individual pizzas one at a time in the small oven.
But in spite of all the reasons not to cook pizza this past weekend, we did! And by golly, it was good!! There were enough hands on deck to keep the assembly line moving. One guest was a pro, having worked as a teenager in a pizza parlor. Hey, watch out Pi Pizza, we’re comin’ for ya! (Actually, we used sauce and dough from one of Chris Summers’ pizza emporiums.)
Before there was Play Doh, there was pizza dough to intrigue little fingers. Harper and her cousin, Caroline, help Robin prepare the shells for the pizza toppings.
Andrew heads for the oven with his designer pizza.
Fired up and ready to go!
The oven heats to the same temperature as a professional pizza oven.
It Takes a Village
Since “man cannot live by pizza alone,” one evening we had a farm buffet to catch up on vegetables and salads. Everybody pitched in to help with the chopping, stirring, cooking, slicing, cleaning and advising. Even Butter, Tom and Lisa’s pet Pug, joined the kitchen crew. She may be elderly, but she can still snag a dropped morsel before it hits the floor.
(Left to right): Tomato Caprese with burrata and basil; homemade Hummus; Broccoli-Tomato Salad; Watermelon; Mixed Grill (brats, chicken, burgers); Pasta Salad; Corn Casserole; Mediterranean Olive Bread; and French Baguette. Dessert was Peach-Blueberry Cobbler.
I found these luscious Thomcord grapes in the supermarket. They’re a seedless table grape, a cross between the popular Thompson Seedless and a Concord grape.
These tomatoes that Robin grew in her backyard found their way into salads and vegetable dishes throughout the weekend.
On the Wild Side
Robin, Lisa and the girls found various mushrooms in the nearby woods. We only ate those that we were familiar with from previous hunts. The black/white capped fungi are called Old Man of the Woods.
Harper discovers an Old Man of the Woods hiding in the fallen leaves.
“Why did the Copperhead cross the road?” One of life’s unanswered questions. No matter, we were safe in the Jeep, when we spotted this one.
A Rose Mallow plant found by Lisa, Robin and kids while hunting wildflowers for the dinner table. The flower is a member of the hibiscus family and the largest native flower in Missouri.
Flowers for grandma. Ahhh, how sweet!
Lisa turned a basket of wildflowers into a lovely table arrangement.
Time for Play
One afternoon, we joined the hundreds of beach enthusiasts for a final weekend of splashing around at Fugitive Beach.
Bella is nearly 6 months old. The frisky Newfoundland pup loves water and enjoys playing fetch. (Can you spot the stick sailing through the air?) It’s a game best played in a bathing suit, as Debra soon learned.
I believe there was some hearty singing going on in the backseat.
Steering the Gator in the driveway from her father’s lap.
The fields were a playpen of newly born calves and their mommas.
Yep, I think “everything wrongs gonna be all right come September.”
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