by Krista | Sep 30, 2014 | Spring
Spring is here with bright, clear mornings and sun-drenched afternoons. It is bliss to wake up in the morning without shivering, to see sunlight dancing on the gum trees outside the window, to see sparrows, finches, grass parrots, kookaburras, miner birds, magpies, princess parrots, and innumerable other birds flitting about building nests and eating nectar out of the flowers.
Our breakfasts reflect the change in seasons. Gone are hearty bowls of oatmeal and frittatas stuffed with ham, cheese, and veggies. Now it’s asparagus picked from the garden and roasted with Parmesan cheese, a couple of soft boiled eggs gathered from our chooks.
We’ve just started getting nice ruby red tomatoes from the farmer’s market, and they’re a beautiful addition lightly roasted with a drizzle of olive oil and a few glittering shards of Himalayan pink salt.
When I’m not working on my book, “Freestone: A Mostly True History”, I’m busy picking veggies from the garden and figuring out ways to use them up. This week I’ve been processing bush lemons, absolutely loving the citrus fragrance imbedded in my hands and wafting through the house.
The weather is so wondrous that I try to do as much of my work outside as I can, shelling peas in the breezeway, trimming lemons on the shady back veranda.
I made my first batch of whole lemon marmalade, an idea inspired by my friend Oma’s whole orange marmalade. The name refers to the process, not the end product. I can’t imagine attempting to spread a whole lemon on my toast.
The process is simple and labor-saving. Just dump clean, un-waxed, whole or halved lemons into a pan, fill with enough water to cover by two inches, bring to the boil, then simmer for an hour and a half until the skins are soft and easily pierced with a fork. Remove the lemons, take out the pips (save them!!), then chop up the lemons and return them to the pan. Put the pips in a cheesecloth bundle and add it to the pan. Bring the whole mixture to the boil, add twice as much sugar as you have lemons, stir until dissolved, then boil for twenty minutes or until the jam sets. Pour into sterilized jars, seal, and turn upside down overnight until marmalade has cooled and lids have sealed.
I’m thoroughly enjoying it, loving the bright cheery color and sweet lemony jam with just a hint of a bite.
What is your favorite thing to do with lemons? xo
Bush Lemon Marmalade
Ingredients:
1 part lemons (whole or cut in quarters)
2 parts white sugar
Enough water to cover by two inches
Directions:
- Place small saucer in freezer for testing the set of the marmalade.
- Sterilize glass jars and lids and set on counter to cool and air dry.
- Put lemons in large saucepan and fill with enough water to cover by two inches. Bring to boil then lower heat and simmer uncovered for 1.5 hours.
- Drain well. Return liquid to pan and set aside. Put lemons on large cutting board to cool.
- When lemons are cool enough to handle, remove pips (save them) and, if you don’t like your marmalade too bitter, scrape out pith as well. Put pips and pith into loose weave tea towel or piece of muslin and tie to form a bundle. Place bundle in pan with liquid.
- Slice lemons into strips as thick or thin as you like, then add to the liquid and stir.
- Place on stove and return to the boil. Add sugar and stir gently until all sugar is dissolved. Boil for about twenty minutes. Remove saucer from freezer and pour a bit of liquid on it. Leave for one minute and push your finger against it from the side. If it wrinkles up, it’s ready, if not, keep boiling mixture for a few more minutes and test again until it’s ready.
- When done, remove marmalade from heat, remove pip bundle, and let mixture cool for 2-3 minutes. Ladle into sterilized jars, seal well, and turn upside down overnight. This gives you the best chance of a good seal.
by Krista | Sep 26, 2014 | Spring
Before moving to Australia, I’d never heard of bush lemons, but now I’m a big fan.
They are a marvelous lemon that grows wild in sub-tropical Australia, and our friend Oma has a huge tree. She gave us a couple of cuttings last year that are growing well but not bearing fruit yet, so we were delighted when she invited us over to pick our fill from her bumper crop.
I love these beauties with their knobbly skins and wonky shapes. They smell absolutely divine and after picking them, so do your hands.
The branches have some rather lethal thorns on them that grow 1-2 inches long, so you have to be careful when picking or you’ll suddenly find yourself ensnared by your hair (me) or snagged by your britches (Bear).
My sundress came in handy for gathering bush lemons as I carefully crept between prickly branches to grasp the big ones that like to hide in difficult-to-reach spots.
Bear dove straight into the heart of the tree, finding a treasure trove of fat lemons in the shady recesses.
Bush lemons have a very thick skin that ranges in color from light yellow to rich orange. While not as juicy as their thin-skinned counterparts, they still have juicy pulp and the oh-so-fragrant skins impart a wonderful zest for flavoring baked goods or cups of tea.
It didn’t take long to start filling our buckets, and we only suffered minor wounds on our hands and arms. It was truly pleasant work as cooling breezes came in over the mountains, birds twittered all around us, and Oma’s and Opa’s dogs came trotting over regularly to say hello.
Soon we had two red buckets filled to overflowing and we hugged Oma tightly for sharing her bounty.
I’m excited to make Whole Lemon Marmalade this weekend and perhaps a Lemon Cream Tart or Danish citronfromage, a delectably light and zesty lemon mousse.
What is your favorite thing to make with lemons? xo
by Krista | Sep 25, 2014 | Spring
The wind howled through the tree tops as my friend Ann and I made our way to Toowoomba for the Carnival of Flowers this week, but we didn’t let that stop us. Not even when clouds rolled in, whisking away the warmth, leaving the wind to goose pimple our arms and whip our hair into a flurry of knots. When you’re having a Girls Day Out, wild weather has no power to dampen your spirits.
We were supposed to be spending the entire day looking at flowers, but when Ann and I get together, we cannot pass a second hand shop without screeching to a halt and popping in to look for treasures. It was a grand day for treasures too, all sorts of bits and pieces to put smiles on our faces and make us just a wee bit giddy. After all that foraging, it was definitely time for a cuppa, so off we went to a little cafe for steaming Chai Lattes and ginormous muffins: Raspberry White Chocolate and Parmesan Bacon. Pure bliss on a blustery day.
Just as we finished Oma rang to invite us to meet her for lunch. We looked at each other and laughed, deciding that yep, we could fit a bit more in just so we could hang out with Oma and her friend Lynn. Needless to say, by the time lunch was over, we were stuffed to the gills and well and truly ready to work it off by wandering through gardens.
Rather than going to the showcase gardens, we decided to use our little garden map to visit homey ones, gardens where regular people (like us) live and play and potter. We weren’t disappointed.
Each garden had its own charms. Some were full of twisting pathways draped with flowering vines and shade-loving flowers. There were quaint bridges and stone trails, arbors dripping with wisteria in full bloom, massive gum trees under planted with sweeping stretches of vivid blooms.
One was a veggie-lovers dream with all sorts of clever ways to make veg growing as simple as possible. Another looked like something out of Mexico or America’s Southwest with flourishing mounds of plump succulents interspersed with cheery nasturtiums and tiny white daisies.
One of my favorite bits was a shady nook carpeted in moss and bordered with smooth stones and lacy ferns. It reminded me of the woods in British Columbia and Washington where I grew up. How I used to love padding about barefoot on the cushy mosses under the trees.
What stood out most in every garden was color, the brilliant hues of petunias, snapdragons, tulips, foxglove, phlox, Sweet William, columbine, pansies, and innumerable others. It was marvelous.
We returned home exhausted, happy, and full of inspiration for our own little plots and pots.
What are your favorite flowers? xo
by Krista | Sep 22, 2014 | Spring
It’s been a quiet, pottering sort of week as Bear and I recovered from our first colds and flu’s of Spring. It’s been rather nice to move leisurely through our days, working steadily but taking the breaks we need to get better.
We’ve had lots of fresh fruit smoothies and cuppas and seen the most beautiful sunrises that make getting up early absolutely worth it.
My biggest project was finishing the planting of our second orchard. I put 16 more trees in: blood oranges, hazelnuts, chestnuts, lemons, limes, mandarins, and several types of oranges. It feels so good to have them all in the ground and to see them blossoming and leafing out beautifully. The plums and apples I planted earlier are doing well too and we’re so excited to see our first harvest in a few months.
Our lunches have been simple: veggies from our gardens, eggs from our chickens and ducks. It’s so nice to have weather warm enough for us to eat outside on the veranda.
Bear gave me the most wonderful gift when he designed and built me two new wheelbarrows. Most wheelbarrows have narrow floors that make it good for hauling leaves or dirt but lousy for transporting anything that needs to be flat and stable. These new beauties are absolutely wonderful for nearly every job I do on the farm: hauling trees, transporting potted plants, gathering and washing veggies, moving cages, etc. They’re strong but light and the mesh bottoms make clean up a breeze. I love them.
While I waited for feedback on the first draft of my history book, I started work on my Christmas book, experimenting with recipes and craft ideas I’ve been jotting down for months. I’ve decided that making chutney is the best thing to do for anyone with a head cold. The copious amounts of vinegar and onions clear sinuses up faster than anything I know. And the kitchen smelled absolutely scrumptious as I stirred and tasted pots full of bubbling chutney.
I also made my first batch of Tomato Chili Jam and had to keep stealing tastes, imagining how good it will be slathered on hamburgers when we dust off the BBQ this week.
This week it’s back to writing the history book, finishing the final draft and choosing the photos, maps, and illustrations to accompany the text. But first I get a day off to go to Toowoomba with my mates, Oma and Ann. It’s time for the Carnival of Flowers and we’re off for a thoroughly girlie day of touring gardens, doing lunch, and talking a mile a minute.
What are you looking forward to most this week? xo
by Krista | Sep 16, 2014 | Spring
Hello, dear luvs. I’m writing you tonight with a weary but big smile on my face. I finished the first draft of my history book. I DID IT!!!
And I can scarcely believe it. It’s gone through the first level of editing, and tonight it gets submitted for review before the next level of editing. And then, deep breath, it gets readied for print. I am happy, so happy, and deliriously tired. I’ve never done such a marathon of writing and I feel as though I could curl up like a hedgehog and not budge for a week.
On the weekend, as I toiled over notes and double-checked stories and dates, I was delighted by a phone call from my friend Oma telling me that I must, MUST grab my camera and get over to her house as soon as possible to see her blooming fruit trees. In all her years in Australia she’d never seen so many blossoms and I simply had to take a look. Who could resist such an invitation? Not I!
So books were set aside, computer closed, sundress donned, and Bear and I headed over to Oma’s to see what we could see.
What wondrous beauty filled Oma’s orchard. It transported me back to my childhood in Canada where I spent many happy hours wandering through orchards, climbing up cherry trees, collecting apples, and feasting on ripe plums.
It was magical in there with clouds of blossoms and fragrant breezes, underfoot carpeted with grasses and wildflowers bobbing in the wind. Oma, Opa, Bear, and I ambled through the trees, stopping to admire delicate blossoms and baby fruits just starting to swell. We discussed ways to protect the trees from pests and birds and talked of ideas for using the produce when Autumn rolled around.
When my camera battery died after taking far too many pictures, we sat down for a cuppa, eying the sky and wondering if we might get rain. Oma loaded us up with homemade strawberry jam, a frangipani seedling, ginger plants, chokos, and a delectable hunk of smoked bacon she’d made recently. I was pleased as punch to finally have something to give her: a Russian Red Kale plant I’d been nurturing, a handful of ripe purple-podded peas from my garden, and an assortment of unusual seeds for her to experiment with. Good friends are such a treasure.
It was a wonderful little break, just what I needed to clear my thoughts and help me get back to writing with renewed vigor.
This afternoon when I typed the very last sentence of the book, I headed outside to let Bear know. How we celebrated! Then I went to get Luna, and together we explored all my gardens. It was pure luxury to be outside again, working in the dirt, getting splattered with mud and water, letting all the tension work its way out. As I watered newly planted beans, it started to rain big, fat, warm drops. It felt so good. Then the sun came out, glistening through the falling rain, making my garden more fairytale than farm. I couldn’t have asked for a better way to commemorate the completion of this project.
I’m going to take a few days off to recuperate and then I’ll be back to chat with you and visit your blogs that I have missed so very much. Wishing you a wonderful week. xo
by Krista | Sep 9, 2014 | Spring
It’s a gorgeous morning on our farm with soft breezes and warming sunshine. So nice after the bone-chilling cold and wind of the last few days.
I’m about to head out to help Bear plant our plum orchard, but first I just wanted to sit awhile with you.
I’ve been in hibernation mode the last few weeks, squirreling myself away in my office researching, transcribing, hunting down elusive names, dates, and details. Rare is the night I can stay awake past 8 p.m., for my whole being is exhausted from this enterprise. But it’s a good tired, a satisfied tired, a “this work is worth it” tired.
I set myself goals throughout the day, rewarding myself with treks to the garden, walks with Luna, chats and smoothies with Bear. Sometimes I even steal an entire hour to disappear into a Poirot or Phryne Fisher mystery.
I can’t describe how calming and mind-clearing it is to wander among plants and trees, to work hard for an hour or two digging new garden beds and collecting veggies for lunch. It makes it so much easier to return to the keyboard with renewed enthusiasm and clarity of thought.
Luna, my dog, loves these breaks. She hears my office door open and leaps up in her pen, tail wagging furiously, wriggling and whining with excitement as I approach her gate and let her out for a run.
We visit the other dogs and check on the goats, collect a few eggs from the ducks, geese, and chooks, and hang out with Bear as he shows us the progress he’s made on gate-building or latch-designing or gadget-inventing.
She watches, fascinated as I collect the days bounty of peas, asparagus, Chinese cabbage, silverbeet, kale, and chicory, sniffing my hands to see if any of it suits her fancy. It doesn’t.
Then she happily gnaws a bone while I sit down on an old tire to eat a handful of peas grown from seeds brought from Hungary by my friend Oma.
Then it’s back to work. I scratch Luna’s ears and close her pen, settle down on the old rattan couch in my office, collect my stacks of paper around me, and get back to typing.
Now I’m celebrating the end of all my transcribing with some tree-planting with Bear.
After lunch I’ll start writing Chapter One. 🙂
What little things keep you going through your jobs? xo
We’ve just started getting nice ruby red tomatoes from the farmer’s market, and they’re a beautiful addition lightly roasted with a drizzle of olive oil and a few glittering shards of Himalayan pink salt.
When I’m not working on my book, “Freestone: A Mostly True History”, I’m busy picking veggies from the garden and figuring out ways to use them up. This week I’ve been processing bush lemons, absolutely loving the citrus fragrance imbedded in my hands and wafting through the house.
The weather is so wondrous that I try to do as much of my work outside as I can, shelling peas in the breezeway, trimming lemons on the shady back veranda.
I made my first batch of whole lemon marmalade, an idea inspired by my friend Oma’s whole orange marmalade. The name refers to the process, not the end product. I can’t imagine attempting to spread a whole lemon on my toast.
I’m thoroughly enjoying it, loving the bright cheery color and sweet lemony jam with just a hint of a bite.
