Today is the last day that I can (by any stretch of the imagination) classify myself as ‘early thirties’. Which isn’t really that much of a big deal. I’m not much of a birthday person (when it comes to my own) and I don’t tend to dwell on the passing of time. Yet today, something about this mid-point in the decade has me a little contemplative. Contemplative in a vague way, fleeting memories of being twenty five, thirty, and thoughts shooting ahead to forty.
And all this whilst cleaning out the chicken’s patch. It started with a book from the library about chicken rearing, which actually contained the phrase ‘cleanliness is next to godliness’. I’m not sure how this book came to be published, or if it contains reliable information on chicken care, but it did create a degree of unease that we haven’t been keeping the chicken quarters in particularly great shape.
On went the wellies, the old clothes, the rubber gloves. Out came a shovel, old broom, wheelbarrow, giant garden scissors (that probably have their own special name that I don’t know about). I hacked away the nasty spikey branches of what I guess may be hawthorn trees (no idea what hawthorns look like but these suckers definitely had spikes), I scooped every last piece of crap, and piled the compost high.. I even ventured into the coup itself, bravely ignoring the extremely scary looking spider webs. Oh yes, on the eve of my thirty fifth birthday I have become a bona fide chicken farmer.
Cleaning out the chickens is a truly rank job. I almost boiled myself alive in the shower afterwards washing off imagined grubs. I think from now on ignorance is bliss, I will not be checking out any books on sheep care from the library any time soon.
With a large glass of white to take things to a more civilised footing, the afternoon was finished off cooking, with intermittent assistance (of sorts) from the boys. Despite giving bagfuls away at every opportunity, I am feeling the pressure of the still groaning apple tree. I stewed as many as I could bear to peel (not that many) with rhubarb. I still haven’t attempted to get to the high ones. I also have no idea how long they will last on the tree.
We then made hummus – using a recipe Dan brought home from school; 1 can of chickpeas rinsed, a little grated garlic, 1/4 cup of olive oil and juice of a lemon … blended up and it’s ready for carrot sticks to be dipped. I love how inspired the kids get by anything that happens in the classroom relating to food – I have a feeling the enthusiasm would have been way lower if this recipe had come from me, but Dan’s asked for make it four times since he made it at school last week. He didn’t even like hummus the week before.
Finally we made pizzas for dinner, with the sauce coming from our tomato glut; several cloves of grated garlic in a slosh of olive oil, tomatoes which can go in whole or halved, a few leaves of basil, 1/2 tsp of salt, and a little balsamic vinegar. Once it starts to cook give it a mash up and let it simmer for 10 minutes or so then push through a strainer to remove the seeds and skins. Perhaps there is a much easier way to turn a bowl of tomatoes into a pizza topping, but this works and it’s tasty, and there are no crazy lumps and bits to freak the small folk out… not a single slice left over for the chooks.
