Close Encounters of the Skunk Kind

Cute but not cute skunk

Tooling along on my bicycle today, a couple of miles from home, I saw something small moving along the side of the road. A black-and-white something.

A skunk!

Since we moved to the Foothills, I’ve encountered lots of different wildlife I would have never seen in our old suburban neighborhood: Cougars, bobcats, coyotes, and even bears, (albeit from a short distance). Seeing these critters at fairly close range, I’ve been a bit nervous. But it’s nothing like my fear of getting skunked!

I’d had three skunk encounters in the past—and what I learned was, you can’t rush a skunk. The last one I saw was about three years ago. On several successive days, I saw it wandering all over the county road, mostly down the middle. It seemed confused, or maybe it was one skunk sandwich short of a picnic.

Not that it matters. After I saw this dumb skunk numerous times over the next week and a half, its wanderings came to a halt, courtesy of a motorist. 

Anyway, today I saw this skunk and immediately stopped, and v-e-r-y carefully got off my bike and backed away. Like really backed away, so I was about 60 feet away, my eyes on the skunk the whole time. And keeping in mind that it would get off the road in its own, good (slow) time.

Although I was upwind of the skunk, it seemed oblivious to my presence. It just kept waddling up the road, right on the fogline. As if it was actually following the white line. Every once in a while it would dip into the weeds on the road shoulder, and I’d think, “Yes! It’s going into the brush!”

Then, frustratingly, the skunk would reappear, and commence waddling right up the fogline again.

I kept hoping some cars would come along…surely a 1 or 2 ton machine going forty mph inches away would encourage a skunk to get the heck off the road! But surprisingly for summertime, only one minivan came along. The skunk didn’t even pay attention to this hazard, and the car ended up swerving out of its way.

After about 10 minutes of waiting for the skunk to move along, I was getting impatient. I’d gone biking after only a little snack, and I was really hungry. And it was starting to rain.

The other problem was, this road was the only one I could take home. The long way around would have been about 20+ miles, and I’d already biked about eight miles already. I will freely admit I’ve never done a 28-mile bikeride, and I wasn’t about to start now.

So when the skunk went into the brush again, I was ready to make my move.

I mounted my bike and stealthily began to pedal. No skunk. I kept going, then YIKES, I suddenly braked.

Another skunk!

The skunk and its newcomer pal were now waddling up the side of the road, clearly not a care in the world. I kept thinking, what the heck where they doing here? I understand skunks eat a wide range of things: salamanders, rodents, and frogs; also seeds, fungi, nuts and a whole lot more. They even attack honeybee hives and eat the bees!

But this pair didn’t seem to be doing much in the way of foraging—just loitering together on the road.

As I watched, the newcomer turned away from skunk #1, and lifted its tail. Oh, NO, I thought, it’s going to spray its buddy! What if the smell gets me too?

Then, a moment later, it lowered its tail. Whew! Maybe that’s how skunks tease each other, playing “Gotcha!”

Back they went to meandering. By now, I was resigned to just waiting it out. If I was scared of being sprayed by one skunk, I was terrified of being sprayed by two.

Another seven or so minutes went by, and finally, the two skunks meandered into the weeds. I was afraid to move, but getting hungrier and wetter by the minute, I thought, it’s now or never.

So I started pedaling again, very slowly, keeping my eyes peeled. When no black-and-white critters appeared, I got braver, and pedaled faster. Gaining in courage, I speeded up even more, and eventually passed the spot I’d last seen the skunks.

And there they were, just 12 or so feet off the road, hanging around in an unused driveway.

Well, I put the pedal to the medal the rest of the way home. Needless to say, I’ll be bikeriding in the opposite direction tomorrow, and for many days to come…

By the way, the photo is from Pixabay. I would never get close enough to a skunk to take a pic!

News from the Coop

On the nest…but not broody!

The other day, the bobcat was at it again.

I heard a big squawk through the closed window, and saw the cat was slinking around the top of the chicken cage. As I banged on the window, and John jammed his feet into his shoes and rushed outside, the cat leaped to the other end of the cage, still trying to get in.

As John neared the chicken area, the animal finally ran off. Miss Broody, sensibly, had high-tailed it into the coop. John hung out with her awhile, giving her a pep talk, telling her the bobcat couldn’t get her. 

When he returned inside, he said, “Well, I guess we’re just going to be running an old folks’ home for hens.”

I nodded glumly. With Miss Broody getting menaced and completely terrified at least once a week, with no other hens to keep her company, it was a sure thing: her laying days were over.

Two days ago, John showed up at the back door, his eyes sparkling. “It’s a Berryridge Farm miracle!”

“What!” I said eagerly, hoping against hope…

“We got an egg!” said John.  

I was grinning ear to ear. The hen hadn’t laid an egg since early April. So it really did feel like a miracle…especially when yesterday, she laid another one!

I’m sure the hen's laying won’t last. Although she's back to all her normal hen behaviors—eating with gusto, sleeping on the roost, spending hours every day scratching the ground—she’ll probably turn broody again one of these days. But for now, we’ll enjoy every single bit of those precious eggs!

By the way, I call her "Missy" now--leaving off the "Broody." I don't want to give her any ideas!

News You Can Use

I’m not big on labor-saving cooking devices: except for a tiny toaster and John’s coffeemaker, you won’t find a blender, stand-mixer, Insta-Pot  or any other kind of small appliance in our kitchen. But outside, I’m all about saving time and energy. Especially as I get older, I seem to have less of both!

And now that it’s June, after our super rainy spring, the weeds and brush on our place are insane.

We spent a chunk of our income tax on a new, heavy-duty weed-eater, perfect for attacking dense brush. And boy do we have a lot of that around here.  It came in handy after the bobcat’s last visit: John took down all the brush on the wooded side of the chicken pen, mowing down the thimbleberry that was concealing the cat’s approach.

John’s the shopper of our family, and he really likes to shop for homesteady stuff.

He found a couple more gardening gizmos that promise to make our outdoor work much easier. Instead of killing my shoulders pruning our fruit trees with hand loppers every spring, now we have mini-chainsaw for the job.

I never thought I’d use “cute” when referring to chainsaws, but this little guy really is! (It’s the little aqua tool to the right of John’s shoe.)

And the other gizmo is a “Susan-friendly” weed-whacked, a lightweight little tool that won’t strain my back, for spaces that are too small for the regular weed-eater.

(In the photo, John’s holding the big brush-eater. The small one on the ground is in 2 pieces—a lawnmower type base, with the weed-whacker unit lying on it crossways.)

Way back when, I mentioned our “Three Bears” shovels in my book Little Farm in the Foothills—our toolshed contained a Daddy Bear shovel, a Mama Bear shovel, and a Baby Bear one.

Now we can say the same about our weed-eaters… Weeds, Beware!

Homestead Diary--Rainy Day Version

 Last fall, inspired by the celebrity chef diaries in Food Network Magazine, I posted about a day in the life here on Berryridge Farm, and the various outdoor chores that filled the day. (See my October 7, 2021 post.) This spring, we've had so very many rainy days, that we haven't had a full day of dry weather in what seems like forever! So here’s a recent day of indoor activities, brought to you by yours truly.

The rain was pouring down when I got up, so I figured it would be a writing day. Since we were getting low on bread, it would also be a baking day. Now that the bakery seed bread we like is up to $8.25/loaf, I’ve been cutting back on buying it, and relying more on my homemade bread.

So before breakfast, I started the “sponge” for my favorite hearty seed bread: warm water, yeast, a dollop of honey and white flour, and set it on the counter, covered by a clean towel, to let the yeast do its thing. (You can find the bread recipe in my April 21 post.)

After breakfast, I worked on my latest Irish novel for a couple of hours. The book is finished, but I’m still in the checking-for-typos and polishing stage. It’s also one of the longest books I’ve written, so this part of the process is really taking a l-o-n-g time!

By this time, the sponge was all bubbly and ready for the next step: mixing in the oil, honey, flours, seeds and salt. Once all the ingredients were incorporated, I kneaded the dough for 8-10 minutes. Then set it back in the bowl, covered it again with the towel, and into the oven to rise.  

(Tip: putting your bread dough in the oven to rise works great—it’s a spot free of drafts that might affect the rising process. Simply keep the oven light on, and it’s just enough warmth to get a nice, consistent rising.)

Back to the computer. Publishing activities instead of writing this time. I added two of my titles to a “new-to-me” ebook retailer, which took about an hour and 45 minutes. It was still pouring rain—no chance for working in the garden—so I took a little break, stretched and moved around.

I returned to writing: this time for a blog post. Composing it and posting took another hour or so.

Time for another break from the computer! By now, the bread dough had risen nicely, and was ready for the second rise. I kneaded the dough for a couple of minutes, then set it in a buttered bread pan, and back in the warm oven.

I was overdue for my usual late lunch: a big bowl of yogurt and some roasted nuts. The rain hadn’t let up, so I did some email. Twenty minutes or so.

By now, I was stiff from sitting and desperately needed some fresh air. Rain or not, I’d get to some outside chores. 

I changed into my grubby gear and visited our hen, gave her some fresh feed, and cleaned up her pen. With her all taken care of, I ferried our day’s worth of kitchen scraps into the outdoor bucket, which will be added to the compost pile when it’s not soaking wet!

Small harvest this year

And it was still pouring rain. But we were out of fruit in the house! So I picked the rhubarb—a sad harvest this year, with so much cold and rain I hadn’t kept the area weeded.

Instead of our former foot-and-a-half long stalks, these scrawny specimens were about 9 inches long. By the way, do not underestimate what too many weeds will do to your food-gardening production!

Then I harvested the few spears of asparagus that were ready—with the cold rain, the asparagus doesn’t grow very fast.

The rain was unrelenting. I’d gotten about as wet as I wanted to be out in the garden, so back to the house. I did some vacuuming, and saw the bread had risen beautifully! Time for baking.

I preheated the oven, got the bread dough in, and set the timer, with a heads up to John. Then I  bundled back up and took a walk—about 40 minutes. On our gravel road, a walk in the rain is a pretty muddy experience, but a nice big umbrella kept my head reasonably dry.

Once I got home, the bread was ready! Out of the oven and onto a rack. I cut up the rhubarb, and with the addition of a quart of frozen marion berries from last summer’s harvest, I made a fruit compote, stirring it now and then as I prepared dinner.

Finally, dinner time! I was more than ready to sit again. We tend to eat really late this time of year, with the extended light in the evenings—not that there was much light this particular evening! But by the time we finished dinner, I was tired.

But it had been a productive day. More productive than most. And now John and I had fruit for breakfast, and a fresh supply of bread! Regarding this recipe, you may note that it’s easy to work in the various stages of sponge, mixing, rising and second rise around all kinds of other activities.

I later heard this rainstorm had been one of those “atmospheric rivers” we’ve been getting this year. The upside of all this moisture is that the garden soil is plenty damp, so the weeds are easier to pull--that is, when it's not too rainy to be outside! 

Miss Broody Update

 

Hen riled up—making her warning call again

I thought it would take forever…but Miss Broody finally decided to leave the nest!

Every single one of our Buff Orpington chickens has been broody at some point or another. The broody stage of our other hens would generally last about 21 days, which I understand is pretty typical. Miss Broody retreated to the coop on the first warm spring day, around mid-April, and finally emerged from the broody stage last Monday—over seven weeks, which must be a record!

But…there were extenuating circumstances…

Around the three-week mark—around the time we would expect the broody stage to be over—her only remaining chicken chum, Little Miss Britches, was killed by a bobcat. I think at that point, Miss Broody was done with the great outdoors.

Every day, I would take her off the nest, and bring her out of the coop. I’d put some feed right under her nose, and for a minute or two, she’d peck at it. But then, she’d run straight back inside the coop.

Certain that the bobcat was an ongoing threat, I started putting her out in the grass, keeping my eye on her from the garden at all times. She would actually eat a little clover, and again, peck at the whole grains in the feed, and in between pecks, look around fearfully. All in all, though, she consumed very little food.

I think the real problem is that she’s been lonesome. Maybe she’s even had hen depression.

But I’m also inclined to think that being outside in the light for several weeks, surrounded by rich spring grass, finally worked its magic. When I looked across the yard Monday morning, and saw the vivid splash of blond roosting on the big maple stump, I thought, she’s baaaack!

But she’s still not laying.  

I wonder if she ever will. I’ve been checking the nest every day, only to be disappointed. It could be that laying hens need other hens around to keep their egg-producing hormones up to speed. And I can see Miss Broody is still anxious—while eating, she still looks around constantly for threats. 

Yesterday evening, she was making her buck-buck-buck-bu-GAH! warning call when the neighbor cat was in the vicinity. A frightened hen is not much of a layer.

Our nearest neighbors, Alan and Gretchen, who sold us our flock, are also down to one hen—the bobcat has really made the rounds around here. The hen is still laying, but Alan reports that she’s eating her eggs—very dysfunctional chicken behavior. She’s likely lonely too.

So, keeping only one hen has its problems. The thing is, I realized with our most recent flock of hens—nearly decimated by wildlife—is that once you start keeping laying  hens, your girls are the heart of your homestead.

Now that we’re down to just the one, nervous girl, I feel that hole on our place. In our hearts.

Old-Fashioned Recipe for Luscious Chocolate Cake

Easy and Delicious Chocolate Cake

Need a recipe for an everyday dessert, or a special-occasion treat? 

This rich chocolate cake has a very tender crumb, is easy to make, and only needs simple pantry ingredients! John requests this cake every year on his birthday, and when I’m in the middle of tons of garden chores, like this week, I like this recipe because it doesn’t take too much time.

I especially like this cake because it calls for baking cocoa, instead of bittersweet or baking chocolate that I don’t normally buy. The one item you might not have on hand is buttermilk, and you can easily sub in regular milk soured with a spoonful of apple cider vinegar, and it works great.

Cake recipe

I got this recipe from an older friend, whose grandmother passed the recipe down to her.  A lot of old-time recipes will assume that the baker has a lot of knowledge and experience—and as you see, my friend didn’t specify the size of baking pan, or how long you mix various ingredients. Nor does she specify using a mixer or doing it by hand. But I’ve found it’s a pretty fail-safe recipe no matter what you do!

The other fun thing is the leavening agent—baking soda—isn’t mixed in the flour like in most recipes, but added to the buttermilk/sour milk. When you add the alkaline soda to the acidic sour milk, it foams up, which creates a very light batter that rises nicely during baking.

I have a tendency to use extra cocoa, hoping all those anti-oxidants in the cocoa counteract all the sugar a tiny bit! But whether you go light or heavier with the cocoa, it’s delicious.

Organic baking ingredients!

I try to use as many organic ingredients as possible—we buy white flour from Cairnspring Mills, located in the Pacific Northwest, and this product is a lovely, creamy color, as opposed to the stark white of conventional white flour.

For the final blending, once I’ve added the flour and salt, I hand-mix fairly vigorously for about 100 strokes. This recipe works with a 9” x 13” baking pan, and if you want to half the recipe (which is what I do), I use a 10” pie pan and bake for about 35-40 minutes. And as with most cakes, you grease and flour the pan first.

For the frosting, my friend melted things together in a microwave (not exactly “old-fashioned) but I just use softened butter and mix by hand.

That’s my piece in the photo at bottom…please don’t judge me but as a chocolate hound, I always give myself an extra dollop of frosting on the side. The frosting on the top of the cake just isn’t enough!

You'll note below that the recipe includes evaporated milk. I know that will give the frosting extra creaminess, but I like using real milk, preferably whole. And half-and-half is even better!

This frosting recipe also calls for “oleo” which further dates it…my father-in-law was born in the late 1920s, and he used that term for margarine. It goes without saying—but I’ll say it anyway—that butter in your frosting is the only way to go!

But please do not use “oleo”!

A big piece of cake after an afternoon of gardening!