My husband checked underneath the grape leaves.  He discovered the grapes were ready for harvesting.  He picked over half of them.  The rest will be ready later.  He stored them in an old peach crate till I could process them.

Grapes Ready for the Harvest

We have the concord variety of grapes.  This type of grape has enough pectin in it to be good for jelly-making.  It also makes delicious juice.

Today is my grape day.  I immersed them in water for cleaning.  I picked the good grapes off of their stalks.  Moldy grapes get discarded.  Some appeared to have a worm hidden inside.  (If a worm is hidden inside one spot of the grape remains hard and green while the rest gets ripe and darkened.)  Those grapes are not welcome in my juice either.

I put the cleaned grapes in my 8-quart stainless steel kettle.  Covering the grapes with water readies them for extracting the juice.  I heat the grapes and water to steaming.  I watch so that the pot does not boil.  Boiling will destroy any vitamin C in the juice.  I  mash the grapes occasionally with my potato masher as they get soft to get more color and flavor out of the grape and into the juice.

When the cooking is complete, I strain the juice in a jelly bag or strainer.  The solids and seeds are discarded.  (The chickens wholeheartedly approve.)

Quart Jars of Grape Juice for Winter

If I have the time to can the juice right away, I do.  I process the juice with 1/2 cup sugar to each quart.  If I cannot process them right away, I refrigerate the juice for processing the next day.  If I want to make jelly from the juice at a later date, I can the juice without sugar.  That way I can follow the jelly recipe and add the sugar at that time.

One should not delay the processing long, lest it ferment.  Juice that is not sugared will get hard more quickly than the sugared kind if it is not sealed.  Doing it sooner is more to my liking.

Grape juice is a delicious part of our winter rations.  I recommend it.

Preserved Foods and God’s Bounty are 2 of the many cards to see in our store.  They reflect to joy of using the foods that God supplies.

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We have two varieties of pear trees taking up residence in our little orchard.

The oldest is too tall and is half gone due to a lightning strike many years ago.  The fruit is as hard and crunchy as an apple till it yellows and softens like the ones I can get at the store.  They sweeten up nicely, but if I wait to use them when they yellow, the cores are brown and render the fruits useless for the canning process.  Therefore, the picking and canning take place when they are still as hard as apples.

The other tree is a smaller, younger one.  It bears fruit that retains its crunch even when the fruit is ripe.  They are smaller, delicate pears with a refreshing sweetness that we enjoy.  We like to eat them fresh.

My husband and I saw that the time for picking the fruit was upon us.  So I picked up the windfalls while he sported climbing the ladder and picked  from the tree.  We got 10 wire baskets picked that day.

Peeling that many pears was not practical.  So we hauled the old apple cider press out from the basement.  We placed it in the shade of our ancient Burr Oak tree and washed it.

My husband washed all of the pears.  I cleaned old ice cream pails and a filtering device and made the kitchen ready for the chore ahead.   I gathered and washed up several quart jars, lids and screw bands for the next phase of this job.

This job takes effort.  It is more fun if company can come over to help enjoy the project with us.  But this day, as spontaneously as it came up, made us do the job alone.

The juice was extracted, the chickens got to enjoy the leftovers and the press was washed and stored away till we have use for it again.

In the kitchen, I strained solids from the juice through a few layers of cheesecloth.

I heated the juice to scalding with cinnamon to taste.  (Try stick cinnamon sometime.)    I flavored one batch with lemon juice.   I have used red food coloring for a pink-pear juice.

We were a very tired pair that day, but pears were on the shelf.  We  rested that night content that we had preserved the bounty that the Lord had provided.

Generally we gather about 3 dozen eggs from our 50 hens each day.  Lately, however, the egg production has taken an unwanted dive.  That always makes a farmer suspicious.

Since the flock of hens is let out of the coop near the noon hour, hens wander in search of interesting additions to their diet.  The bugs and worms mixed with bits of grass and weeds in the cow pasture make their lives and eggs more interesting.

After the evening chores, my husband has noticed some tell-tale chicken feathers in the calf pasture.  When the chickens roost in the hen house for the night, he counts them.  Sure enough, another hen is missing! 

Now, who is the culprit? A weasel will sneak into the hen house and bite at their heads and leave the rest of the chicken alone.  But a fox or coyote could dare to come within range of the hen yard to grab the whole animal.  That seems to be the case.

The Sly Fox

My husband has been watching.  He has spied a fox and her kit coming to the calf pasture for a little fast food.  He has noticed that they come nosing around the farm at about 4:30 in the afternoon.  They have been successful in getting the chickens.  We have lost about a dozen so far.

Now is the time for this good farmer to come to the aid of his chickens.

He will lie in wait.  The dog will do his part.  Look out foxes!  You would both be better off if you found a new restaurant.

Randall Grabau Copyright 2012

To my amazement, the little “sprinkle” did not stop.  It rained harder and it kept on raining.  After about an hour of steady rain, our daughter, with

Weather Service Radar

the help of her computer, retrieved National Weather Service radar images for the past hour.  About the time I heard that wimpy rumble of thunder, the radar screen showed just one small spot of rain.  As she progressed through a series of images, we watched that tiny spot expand.  Then it split into two cells, but all the while it remained directly over us.  Even the weatherman on the 10 o’clock news commented on the one small area of rain that did not seem to move.  Finally, it stopped raining about 1 1/2 hours after it started and amounted to about 3/4 of an inch.  That was more rain than we had gotten for the last two months!  The next day, we received an additional  3/4 inch of rain.

I had recently been studying a part of the book of Job for the Men’s Bible Study in which I am involved.  Most people know of the trials Job experienced; trials relating to his family, his farming business and his health.  Most also recognize that in the end, God blessed Job for his steadfastness through his trials.  But the prerequisite to Job experiencing God’s blessing is found in Job 42:10.  It says, “And the Lord restored the fortunes of Job when he had prayed for his friends.”  Only after Job prayed for his friends, not just for himself, were his fortunes restored.  At times our prayers seem to go unanswered.  Perhaps one of the reasons is that we focus too much on ourselves.  Maybe what God wants for his children is to be less selfish with their petitions and to focus on the needs of others.

Those two days of rain revived our crops.  The rest of the summer has still been very dry.  But without that 1 1/2  inches of rain, our crops would have been much worse.  God blessed us that evening and that “one small cloud” refreshed our spirits as well as our crops.

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Randall Grabau Copyright 2012

People from all over the country prayed for rain.  Churches prayed.  Later in the summer, friends told us that they had asked God specifically for rain for our farm.  I did, too.  I petitioned the Lord for rain on our farm, but also for our friends and neighbors who needed it just as much as we did.

The weather forecasters occasionally offered some hope of rain,but as the predicted day approached the chances of rain diminished.  As the day arrived, we were often disappointed.

On July 17, 2012, the forecast included a chance of rain.  But, as the sun set that evening, it looked as though, once again, the rain had gone around us.
We had baled hay that day, so about 9 PM, as the sun approached the horizon, I had just finished milking our cows and all the other evening chores.  I looked to the southeast as I left the barn and saw a towering thundercloud with plenty of lightning flashing in it.  “Somebody is getting some welcome rain,” I thought.

Small Storm Cloud

When I looked up directly above us, I saw a small patch of clouds with clear sky to the north and west.  The setting sun brightened the scene.  Just before I entered the house basement door, I heard a little, wimpy rumble of thunder from the cloud above me.  I thought to myself, “Even if that little cloud does produce some rain, it won’t amount to much more than a sprinkle.”

A Bible story in the book of I Kings tells of a similar situation.  After a 3 1/2 year drought, the prophet Elijah is praying for rain.  Elijah sends his servant seven times to check the horizon as he prays.  On the seventh time, the servant returns to Elijah and says, “A little cloud like a man’s hand is rising out of the sea.” (I Kings 18:44)  Verse 45 adds, “In a little while, the heavens grew black with clouds and wind and there was a great rain.”

“That’s nice,” I responded, “but it won’t last long.”

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Randall Grabau Copyright 2012

The summer of 2012 was an exceptionally dry year, not only in our area, but also across most of the nation.

A Young Crop of Corn

Corn planted in April or early May had germinated and grown quickly.  My corn did not get planted until after the 18th of May.  By the middle of June, the drought was in full swing with most all of the corn showing signs of stress.  The corn on our farm did not look too bad early in the morning, but by noon much of it had curled up leaves as the corn plants tried to preserve what little moisture they had.  This continued with only small, insignificant showers through Independence Day.  It amazed me that there was any life left at all in these young, struggling, corn plants.

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This morning started out like a normal one.  It included hay baling.  In addition, I planned to process apples, grapes and tomatoes.  I popped a beef roast into the oven and set about to work on the rest of our dinner when I heard the wild ringing of our doorbell.  No guests ring the bell like that, so I knew my husband needed me to unlock the door-fast!

What We Lost

Words I had never heard before came tumbling out of his mouth.  “The woodshed is on fire!!!”  He made the 911 call for help.

I struggled to get my sandals on in order to run outside and to see what he meant.

Just out the front door I looked to the east at a shed where lumber is stored.  It looked normal to me.  So then, I looked to the west where our winter supply of firewood is stored.  Smoke billowed from behind the buildings on that half of the farm.  Fire made its home here on our place today.

We ran to the site to see the charring firewood being consumed.  Along with that, orange flames climbed up the tall trees in the background.  “Oh, Lord, help us,” we called out.  My husband, Randy, and I moved a hay wagon away from the fire.

I ran in the house for better footwear.  I called my daughter in haste, to let her know that we needed  prayer.  I called our pastor and left him a message as well.   When I got back outdoors my husband was running 5-gallon buckets of water to the hot spot.

The Welcome Help Arrived.

I filled  pails for him at the calf shed trough.  He was dousing a nearby shed that housed lumber.  Losing the firewood was a concern, but home-sawn lumber was another matter.  That could not easily be replaced.

As I filled the pails, I heard the sweet sound of a siren.  It was music to my ears this morning.  Three trucks came to help us.  Once the hoses were unloaded the firefighters sprayed the flames to a smolder.  The tree fire stopped.  They located hidden hot spots and showered them with thousands of gallons of water.

Fire, a Formidable Foe

Fire is a force that has uncontrolled power.  One can easily see his helpless state when the flames roar upward.  We give our God thanks for His help.  The wind was minimal.  The emergency crew dealt handily with a force that we were not able to control by ourselves.

The leap of flame could have overtaken our home and our business.  But God watched over us and those who intervened on our behalf.

If you have a situation that you see is out of control in your life, call out to God.  Jesus Christ has already intervened on your behalf.  Place your life in His capable hands.  Then your life will not be overcome by a leap of flame, but, rather, a leap of faith in Jesus.  He will not disappoint you.

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Shucking Sweet Corn

In the early part of August our sweet corn ripens.  We generally grow 6 rows of it so we will have enough to freeze for the winter.

My husband picked 2 wirebaskets full of ears for us to process yesterday.    I helped him to shuck it.  That means we took the green corn leaves off of the ears.   He brushed the corn to rid it of excess corn silk.

After all the shucking was done, he fed the shucks to the cattle who really enjoyed it.  We, on the other hand, got the ears.

The kitchen preparation included covering the table with several layers of newspaper.  When the kernels are cut off of the ear, the milk of the kernel tends to splash.  Since it is starchy and sweet, it can stick on the surface and be stubborn to wash off.

We plunge the ear corn into boiling water and let it cook for 5 minutes.  That blanches the corn.  From there the ear corn is placed in a dishpan of cold water to cool until it is easy to handle.  When sufficiently cooled, the corn is cut off of the ear into a pan.  When the tops of the kernels are cut off, then I drag a knife blade from the bottom of the ear to the top*.  In that way the milk of the corn is pressed out and added to the whole kernel.    The milk’s sweetness blends with the tasty kernels and makes a great vegetable for our table.

I package the sweet corn in freezer bags.  We may get to freeze corn on two different days each year.  The rest is used as corn-on-the-cob.  Aw shucks, it’s great!

*NOTE: The bottom to top method prevents milk from from the corn cob from splattering  into my face while I work.  If I scrape the blade from the top to the bottom I get sprinkled in the face and have quite a time with clean up.

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Preserving peaches has become an annual event in my kitchen.  Since I took up the habit, I barely ever buy the canned ones at the store.  The home-canned peaches taste so much richer and delicious.

When I had children still in my home, I bought 4 lugs of peaches for preserving each year.  That seemed to meet our needs nicely.

A lug weighs about 15-17 pounds.  The number labeling their size (for example, 50) means that there are 50 peaches in the lug.  Smaller peaches labeled 56 would be a smaller peach and 56 of them fit in the lug.  I generally buy the 50s.

The Faye-Elberta variety is my favorite.  Besides being a delicious peach, the stone comes out easily and the peel comes off nicely when scalded.

Equipment to keep on hand includes a water-bath canner, a funnel for filling the jars, mason jars with lids and screw bands and a jar lifter (a clamp that is especially made to lift the jars from the boiling water-bath.)  Ingredients needed are peaches, sugar, water and ascorbic acid crystals.  I use a product called Fruit Fresh for ascorbic acid.

I also like to make peach pie-filling to keep in my freezer.  It takes Minute tapioca, sugar, peaches, lemon juice, ascorbic acid and salt.   I freeze the filling in freezer bags.  In the winter I put the frozen filling in a  pie pastry and we enjoy the summer’s fruit at short notice.

If you get the chance to try the canning process, the Ball Blue Book has many good recipes to try.  Several of them use peaches.  I recommend this annual event highly.