Many young children have roamed this farm yard over the generations.  In it, my girls have happened on aggressive animals now and again.

When my youngest daughter was fourteen years old she would walk to the calf shed and be accosted by Terror, the rooster.  He was protective of the hens to a fault.  He charged after her and her sister many times.  Our older daughter had the job of mowing grass back in rooster territory.  Terror took that as an insult and flew at the mower and its operator many times, spurs flying.  He had a very scary reputation.  The girls avoided him as often as possible.

One sunny day we will remember, Terror used his masculine ire effectively and appropriately.  My husband related this incident to us with a chuckle. Terror escorted the hens across the calf yard.  As they came to the center of the yard, 500-pound calves came running full tilt to the feeding troughs.  Terror and the hens were between the running cattle and their food.  To allow the hens to scatter to safety, Terror dug in.  He stood beak to nose in front of them and ruffed out his neck feathers ready for a fight.  This startled the cattle so that they stopped-on-a-dime.  The staring contest continued peacefully till Terror strutted off the calf yard and went on his way to the chicken yard.  Terror, the five-pound rooster, won the day over 5,000 pounds of beef!

There comes a time in a rooster’s life when life comes to an end.  And Terror was no exception.  He died and a new rooster was promoted to take care of the new flock of poulets.

The girls feared this rooster too, but to their amazement he had more docile personality.  This one we called a Good Old Rooster. But for good or ill, we will always remember Terror.

photo credit: Svadilfari via photopin cc

Much work and waiting have gone into the garden again this year. As days shorten and temperatures lower, it is clear that winter is coming, the growing season is past.

Our wood supply is abundant, but it sits in a woodshed beyond the garden. To get it into our wood room, my husband loads the firewood on the tractor loader, drives across the garden to the wood room door. Hence, the garden must be cleaned before it is turned into the tractor path.

We took up the squash and cucumber vines and collected their fruits. We pulled up the herbs. We pulled out the beet crop and the carrot crop. The broccoli plants had to go, too.

My gladiola bulbs have to come out. They would die with the freezing of the earth, so we got them in.

We cut the tops from the carrots and beets.  Carrots must have bit of the orange cut off with the greens, otherwise, in storage they tend to grow new leaves.  The beets are trimmed with about 1 inch of the stems still on the beet.  If beets were cut more closely they would lose some of their deep redness during cooking.

The cut-off tops went to the chickens.

We washed the vegetables, air-dried them and packed them into wire baskets before storing them. Carrots are stored in plastic bags and kept in the cool cellar.  Beets are stored in a crock as are the squash.

The garden is clean enough to let the tractor do its job tomorrow when piling wood will be on the docket. When the hard freeze comes there will be time to finish.

 

photo credit: Bretta Grabau
photo credit: Bretta Grabau

One staple crop I grow in the garden is tomatoes. We like to raise about a dozen tomato plants each year. I make canned tomatoes, soup, salsa, and sometimes pasta sauce. In winter, tomatoes greatly enhance our diet.

Recently we had a nice bunch of tomatoes to process. Judging from the count of jars of soup on my shelf, I decided to make a batch of soup. The recipe I like to use requires 12.5 pounds of tomatoes to make about 5 quarts of soup.

 

I wash my tomatoes and celery before I put them into the pot.  I cut out the stem end of the tomatoes and cut the tomatoes in quarters. The celery is cut in half-inch pieces. The pot must be large enough for the bulky vegetables. I prefer a stainless steel one.

 

 

 

 

1/2 teaspoon of garlic powder, 1-6 chopped onions and/or basil may be added at this time for added flavor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stir the heating mixture often.  I like to use medium heat to avoid any burning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once the tomatoes and celery are softened, the next step of the process is straining.  I use a Squeezo-Strainer. I use this tool for tomatoes and applesauce especially.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I wash up the kettle and pour the strained juice in it. I add 2 sticks of butter, 1 cup of sugar and 1 cup of flour, 1/4 cup of salt to the juice mixture, and pepper to taste.  I use a whip to mix in the flour and to avoid lumping.  I heat the soup to the boiling stage till the mixture is thickened.

It is ready to pour into hot jars. Place on canning lids and screw bands and process in a water bath for 10-15 minutes.

When preparing to serve this soup, milk may be added.  To prevent curdling of milk, add a pinch of baking soda.

photo credit: Wenda Grabau
photo credit: Wenda Grabau
photo credit: Wenda Grabau
photo credit: Bretta Grabau
photo credit: Wenda Grabau
photo credit: Bretta Grabau

On our farm, we keep a flock of laying hens. Presiding over the hens is one rooster. After the hens lay eggs for us for about a year we move them out making room for the new and upcoming flock. Most often the rooster moves out with his hens.

Our last rooster, however, stuck around. He was a big rooster, very protective of his ladies, and knew his territory. Many other roosters in the past tended to be of the arrogant, possessive type. They attacked human beings simply because they walked in or around the chicken yard. Some charged when they were in the “human’s territory”.

Not so with this rooster. He protected the hens from coyotes, foxes, and raccoons, yet he knew that we provided food and shelter for the chickens, so he honored our authority. His attitude and demeanor were consistently trustworthy. For that reason he reigned in the chicken yard for about seven or eight years. Now that is a long time, if you recall they usually are gone in one year.

Last week, our good old rooster fought his last fight. He took on a fox to protect one of his ladies. His weapons in fight, spurs and beak, recently were reduced to single spur and beak. Yet he put up a good fight. But, sadly, he did not make it. We sure will miss that guy around here. It’s not often that we have found a rooster of his caliber.

photo credit: Wenda Grabau
photo credit: Wenda Grabau

My mother-in-law lived on this farm before I did. She loved flowers and gardening. One flower she had adorned the rural electric pole in the farmyard.  The Morning Glory climbed that pole every year.  Its purple blossoms bloomed profusely.

Somewhere along the line after we moved here, the Morning Glory died off.  All that remained was the chicken wire my husband’s mom had mounted on the pole to support the plant.

Over the years we mowed around the electric pole and forgot about the Morning Glory.

One summer, the electric company sent linemen to do some work on our pole.  They dug around it and did whatever needed doing.  They finished their work and we forgot about it.

Later that summer we noticed several clinging plants start to climb the pole.  We did not know what they were, but one fine day a bloom opened to the sun.  It was Grandma’s Morning Glory resurrected!

Apparently the digging the linemen did unearthed seeds that had survived and they could now grow and reproduce again.

We enjoy watching this flower grow and think of dear Grandma.

photo credit: Wenda Grabau
photo credit: Wenda Grabau