Salvaged Wood

No wood heads for the landfill from our backyard: It is all salvaged on site. For years, this has not been an issue, but, after a major tree pruning winter and two fence replacements, we have piles. Several Large piles.  I’ve been working through them, now that the food processing season has slowed down. 

            The first step is sorting. There are three categories:

1. Reusable: Dry and not rotting.  All nails pulled, piled in the wood loft of the shed. Used for garden beds, fencing, art, signs, trellises, shower stalls, boxes, shelves, repairs to the coop, stakes, crib slats….etc.
2. Firewood:  Dry, with some rot or small pieces. All nails pulled, cut to size, piled in the basement, preferably in size and dampness piles.
3. Compost: Clearly rotting, breakable by hand. All nails pulled, broken down to compost fast, and piled in the back corner to be eaten by pillbugs. Later, it moves into the pompost pile.

Nail pulling is a key step for all wood recycling. I don’t like tetanus shots so we have to be sure that no nails turn up in the firewood ash or the compost piles years later. It’s a peaceful task, once I have the station set up. I bring a picnic bench back under the hazelnut trees, find the large and small crowbars, the paint can half full of nails, and a hammer, and set to work. There’s something satisfying about wrestling pieces of old fencing apart, reducing them to their original boards, and sending them over to Mark to be cut down with power tools.  Bunzilla and Lucy look on while the chickens root through the old boards for new bugs. I’m about done with the nail pulling project, so we just need to saw and sort before the rains begin.

Spicy Slaw:

Several people were dismayed to find a large cabbage in their CSA box this Tuesday evening and the trade box was overflowing with rejected heads. So sad...we were thrilled. Mark immediately lobbied for this slaw, best eaten with local Indian Woman beans, wrapped in large tortillas. Fastest dinner ever, if the the beans are cooked.

Slice the cabbage very thinly.  Perhaps slice a carrot or two as well, for color. Mix some mayo, a chipotle pepper in adobo sauce, sour cream or yogurt, salt, pepper, and a little cider vinegar together in the bottom of the salad bowl. Toss the cabbage in. Taste and adjust. 

Eat dinner. 

Fall Leaves

Early November is leaf gathering time. Because we are the only gardeners on our street, we gather all of the leaves on the block—maple, locust, oak, and poplar—in a rolling recycling bin, and then haul them into the back yard. One nicely packed bin covers a 10 by 4 foot bed perfectly. I try to work early on Sunday morning, weather permitting (it is no fun to pick up armfuls of leaves in the rain), but, sometimes, I need to be out later in the day. I lock Lucy the Grey Cat into the bedroom so she does not roll in the street and head out, oblivious to the stares of passing motorists. Rake and pile, rake and pile, rake and pile. The garden beds fill up, back to front. An occasional kale or collard plant pokes out from the cover; the leeks are snugged in all around. I try and harvest the carrots before I cover them because slugs munch the green tops and the root is lost. Once the vegetable beds are filled, I clear out the flower beds, cutting down the fennel and asters, and cover them as well, first with fig leaves, then with red maple.


This year, our neighbor hired a young man to clear out the leaves on the apartment complex across the street. He dropped them all into our driveway while I was at work—it was no more effort, he said, and it saved a trip to the landfill. I came home one brisk grey afternoon to a mound of brown and gold leaves; when I moved them into the backyard on Saturday, they were already starting to steam and break down. A lovely, wine-y, earthy, leafy smell came from the pile. By late afternoon, the garden was put to bed for the winter. For a few months, nothing will happen in the back yard but a bit of chicken prowl, a few bees searching for hazelnut pollen, and tree pruning. It’s good; we all need a break.


German Apple Pancake: This feeds two of us...

First, place a pat of butter into a large cast iron pan and place in a preheated oven-- 375 degrees-- until the butter is melted.

Pancake:

3 eggs
3/4 cup of milk
3/4 cup of flour
1/2 teaspoon of salt

Beat until smooth, pour in the pan, and place in oven. Cook until it puffs, about ten minutes.

Meanwhile, sautee 2-3 sliced apples in another pat of butter and several tablespoons of brown sugar. Cinnamon is nice.

Put the pancake on the plates, pour the apples over, and eat!