One thing I value above all else (okay, not all else, but most else) is sleep. Birthdays, however, happen but once a year. So on the night of July 19th I said 'to hell with sleep' and spent a good deal of the evening up to no good with my pals and rose early the next morning to do more fun shit. It was really a magical night, as we sat around the greenhouse at midnight all of a sudden the heavens opened up and it was absolutely pouring. Lightening and thunder were crashing--the whole bit. Renee and I ended the evening with chocolate cake and goats milk enjoyed on the front porch watching the lightening flare up around us from all sides.
My mother expressed a desire to milk the neighbor's goats the next morning so before going to bed (around 2, which is very late for a farmer) I set the alarm for a quarter to seven. The next morning my eyelids sprang open at 6:40 and I roused my sleeping mother. It was time to milk.
After we got back from the milking fun (the kids are so cute, especially when you feed them lots of hay and they whinny and nicker at you in delight) and I set to work preparing the rabbit I (or more likely, D) had slaughtered the day before. An aside: shortly after butchering the rabbit, I watched it float around in the brine and although I had cooked meat plenty, I just didn't know what to do with the stuff. It wasn't so much the shock that "just two hours ago it was a cute little bunny hopping around" (this aspect doesn't bother me so much since I've known from the beginning what the rabbits are there for) but still the meat felt foreign. So before I went to bed I wrapped it up tight and put it in the fridge, I just couldn't deal with it quite yet.
The next morning, however, I had no problem. Working from a recipe in my Raising Small Livestock homesteader's handbook (1974 edition), I browned the pieces of meat on both sides in 3 tablespoons of butter. Threw in a chopped onion and some garlic and a cup of white wine (salt and pepper) and let that simmer for about half an hour. By then the kitchen was smelling awesome. My friend Renee and I chopped up some shiitake mushrooms and fresh corn (left over from the previous night's BBQ) as well as some parsley (to give the very rich meal some freshness) and tossed those ingredients in to simmer for about 10 more minutes.
We served this hardy meal with leftover baked beans, toast and coffee. It was a farmy feast of breakfast, holy heck! So good I didn't even get a picture of it on the plate.
After everyone was happy and fed, there was still lots of clean up work to be done from the party and slaughter. I hosed out lots of buckets, cleaned tools and gloves, put away tools and took down the rack that had held the dead bunnies while we cut 'em open. Sorry to be so crude. The grossest part was dealing with the guts. A couple of reliable sources said the best thing to do was toss 'em into the woods for the animals to find. So around ten thirty I rounded up my friends and we hiked out into the edges of the Gales Meadow property to dispose of these nasty guts. I have plenty of pictures of what lay inside the bucket I'm holding above if anyone really wants to see.
Once we had cleaned up and said our hellos, goodbyes and thank yous to everyone in the house, Mama Mia and I set off for Cannon Beach where we were to spend Friday and Saturday nights. On Friday we walked around, drank wine and relaxed. For my birthday mom got me a Shiatsu massage at a little spa in Cannon Beach. Afterwards my meridians were feeling pretty darn aligned. I read my goat book and fell asleep at 8.
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| Foxglove on Neahkahnie Mtn. |
Saturday morning we woke early and did exactly what I like to do in the morning, read and write. I find that twenty minutes after waking up is my best time of day for word-processing. By the afternoon and evening I can work hard physically, but my mind is not sharp like it can be in the AM. So we sat around and drank coffee and read for hours. My mom and I like to do the same things, which is probably why we hate spending time with each other so much (jokes).
After a very long, relaxing morning we set of for Neahkahnie Mountain, a nice little climb just south of Cannon Beach on Highway 101. We hiked through the misty forest with its lush array of wildflowers and salmonberries. We saw crazed squirrels and lazy banana slugs. The view from the top was insane, the ocean like an enormous forcefield, silently writhing with life. I love the ocean. Being near it moves me like nothing else. It is romantic, powerful, eternal.
Here is a very serious picture of me considering all the wisdom of the ocean...
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