I thought it might be  the perfect time for an update on the wild BOY kitty.  It is entirely possible that this popped into my brain as blog-worthy because he has decided to come up while I am working at my desk and sprawl his huge furry form right across my lap. My WHOLE lap, and over my knees, his long legs draped down either side of me ....  I mean, he doesn't near fit on my lap, he's so impossibly big.  I can't do anything with his heavy weight on me, not to mention that he wants his head scratched pretty much the whole time he's up here, AND he won't let you forget it because if you dare stop, he will head butt you back into kitty scratching mode. 

He doesn't fit into any of the kitty beds either because he is one loooonnnng kitty boy, and he isn't much for the curling up kind of kitty sleeping, preferring instead to slop his full length across whatever surface he figures needs a handsome kitty decoration.  It always makes me laugh when I pick him up, as he's pretty much this totally relaxed dead weight and sort of hangs there in my arms, or drapes over my shoulder and down my back like a big, soggy, fur stole.  I have to admit though, he seems a stunningly beautiful Maine Coon kitty work of art, but then, I 'm not exactly an impartial observer.

Since he's really still a baby (oof) and already at 20 lbs, I am pretty sure that he'll get bigger once his muscles are more fully developed (4-6 more pounds, MC's mature slowly), and with winter coming on, his coat will grow much more dense and considerably longer.  Oh dear, I'd better stock up on those sticky lint brushes...

Cascade Mountain Truffe du Chocolate... I love you my sweet boy kitty, but will you please stop bedeviling your Aunties Kona, Bitty and dear elderly Binx?

... eileen
 

Living in a farmhouse is magical, and I dare say, transformational.  I mean really, I made pickles this last week.  I haven't made pickles for, oh, just YEARS, and yet here they are, inspired by something so innocent as a dinner inviation from the kindest of neighbors. 

Vance and Joan live in a lovely little ranch house on 10 beautiful acres just next door.  That very first morning in our new home, Mr. Wonderful and I were happily padding about in jammies, he frying up bacon in the old cast iron skillet, and me whisking eggs and cheese to be scrambled.  We were pretty surprised to hear our doorbell ring, and yet, jammies and all, I answered it to find two smiling faces bearing a fresh loaf of the most heavely banana bread.  I don't think breakfast had ever tasted so good as that morning, the early sun was streaming into our home, I had poured fresh orange juice into vintage glasses, and Mr. Wonderful heaped eggs and crispy bacon onto china plates for each of us, fresh espresso, and a thick slice of banana bread slathered in real butter to top it off.  Heaven. 

So, when Joan's dinner invitation came a few weeks later, I wanted to return the kindness with an offering of my own, but what?  hmmm... 

Several weeks ago a lovely friend had brought over her own housewarming gift, a bouquet of wildflowers and a box of fresh homegrown vegetables, peas, tomatoes, sweet carrots, fingerling potatoes, and cucumbers, bumply, lovely cucumbers. I could make pickles.  I had an onion, and some shallots, and a lovely red pepper, and... oh dear, WHERE did I unpack the dill and pickling spices.. and the vinegar, did I have cider vinegar???

Having found all the supplies I thought I would need, I dug out my favorite yelloware bowl, tied on a bright, vintage apron, found a big wooden spork, and the giant cutting board, and began slicing to my heart's content - 4 big cucumbers, one fat red pepper, 8 shallots, 4 slices of a sweet onion, and two long italian hot peppers from the deli counter.  Everything into the bowl... topped off with one cup of white sugar, two tablespoons of dill and two tablespoons of pickling spice.

Oh my, cloves, cinnamon, bay, allspice, foenugreek (yes, that's how it is spelled, and I have no idea what it is), mustard seed, ginger, black pepper, cassia (Chinese cinnamon) and celery seed. It smelled so good, and when I stirred it all together the rich aroma rising from the bowl just filled the room. 

Now add two cups of either white or cider vinegar.  I like cider vinegar, I think it is milder and has a richer flavor than white, and I just so happened to have exactly two cups.  

... and then it hit me.  The only thing missing was a nice glass of wine, and since I had a Twilight series movie playing in the background, I thought this vintage with its rather vampire-ish, gothic label might be just right.  (sip) Yes, that will do very well, thank you. 

Can you smell this?  Not the wine silly, but the sugar, vinegar and heavenly spices?  In a few hours the veggies will "wilt" and soften in the broth, and they will be ready to eat, but you can keep them in the refrigerator for several weeks... if they last that long!

Okay, now back to the pantry I went.... I know I have some nice canning jars in here someplace ... now where were they?  Oh yes, this one will be perfect. 

I confess, my Grandmother would have placed each pickle carefully into the jar, layering them just so, until there were as many pickles neatly packed into the container as it could hold... but I just piled them haphazardly, thinking more about getting a bit of each colorful veggie into the mix, topping it off with that nice big sweet/hot italian pepper and some extra broth.

A strip of calico fabric, a twig of silk flower, a colorful cotton dishcloth I'd knit up during one of my long work trips to the lower 48 states, and oh, I do hope Joan loves this. 

Later, after a lovely dinner of pot roast, potatoes, roasted carrots, and apple cake with our newest friends, I sat out on the back deck, the evening sun still shining in the 22 hours of daylight that is the Alaska's summer, and cut up the last of the veggies and put them into the left over broth. 

Truffles, our 20 lb Maine Coon kitten (he's only 10 months old) decided what I was doing was more interesting than chasing the bugs in the yard, and hopped up beside me to inspect. 

... and finding nothing to his liking, scampered off to bother one of the girl kitties. 

Blessings to you all Dear Ones ~

....eileen 

When I was a little girl my first memory of horses was that of watching two horses and their riders walking through a field next to my home.  I do not remember many details about the horses or their riders, but I remember the smell of the warm beast, a velvet nose, his breath on my hand, big gentle eyes.  I remember how much I wanted to climb up on his beautiful back and ride away. 

I think right then and there I promised myself that one day I would have a horse.  And so I have, five all total at various times in my life, all very dear, all gone now except my Johnnie.  We'd always stabled them at public or private facilities, but there's never been a barn, a real barn, and a pasture, at my own home.  Until now.

That sweet dream gets closer each day, all thanks to my Mr. Wonderful. 

Each weekend in our new home we've been busy dawn to dusk with outdoor projects.  Given we have 18+ hours of daylight, that's saying something.  Of course, all our projects are for our dear critters - never mind the inside honey-dos - our four-legged family is much more important.  Mr. Wonderful started out by fencing in the back yard, a lovely space so that the kitties could play outside and be safe from foxes.  After that, the long hoped for barn.

I think... maybe, two more weeks and I can bring my Johnnie home for good.  Home to his own big box stall, knee deep in sweet smelling sawdust, a warm mash in his corner feeder and fresh timothy hay in the manger.  This vision is peace to me, soul soothing and dear.  

I can't wait.   

...eileen