Bird Sightings and More Miscellany

Andrew called tonight to tell me they (the birding buddies who are brothers and cousins) saw a Brown Creeper today--a new one for their list. Recently they saw a Warbling Vireo--a bird I've never identified. I never saw a Red-Eyed Vireo either, which they have seen.

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Hiromi is pleased with how the baby guineas and Muscovy ducks performed today when he left open the gate to their shelter. They stayed inside a long time, then cautiously ventured out. He herded them toward the flower garden, up and down the rows, where they feasted on grasshoppers. They went through the fence and "grazed" on grasshoppers out there. Wherever they went, grasshoppers flew up in a panic. After a while, Hiromi rounded up the guineas and walked them back to their shelter again. The ducks had found their way back by themselves.

Hiromi is already anticipating the fun he's going to have tomorrow, marching the guineas around. He's amazed at how compliant and flock-oriented they seem to be. They stay together all the time.

Max did not enjoy the day. He was penned up in the kennel while the young birds were out. He is not trustworthy, we've decided, and it's costing him his freedom for now. We turn him loose at night.

He even had the nerve to chase the adult guineas tonight after he was out and before they had gone to roost. He felt very guilty however when Hiromi saw him and yelled at him--as evidenced by the proverbial head down, tail between the legs stance.

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We harvested the first of our Zuchetta Rampicante summer squash today. These are Godzilla versions of zucchini. The one we ate on for supper was 21 inches long and as big around as a saucer. At this stage it has no seed cavity--solid flesh throughout--and the skin is very soft. The vines grow rampantly, and the squash grows fast too. The flesh has a little more firmness and texture than zucchini, but is very mild flavored.

I have a feeling we'll have to educate our farmer's market customers or no one will dare risk buying it.

I've had only one big problem with this crop. I planted them beside neck pumpkins, and when the first "fruits" set on the vine, I didn't know whether they were pumpkins or squash. What I saw first had a small "bulb" on the blossom end of the fruit, and those looked exactly like the internet pictures of Zucchetta Rampicante. But later, when the other kind started setting fruit, they had a male-patterned physique--broad shouldered and narrowed at the bottom--and I thought those were more likely to be the Zuccheta R., since I had grown them once before, and I didn't remember the bulb. Although I've never grown neck pumpkin, I've eaten them and I knew they did have a bulb. It was all very confusing, just like it sounds. By then also the vines had so thoroughly intertwined and clambered across their neighbors that I saw both kinds of fruit on all sides of the patch. The foliage looks exactly alike.

Today I trundled over to Dwights, who planted only neck pumpkins, and looked at what is growing in the patch. I was right; the internet pictures were wrong. The ones with the bulb at the end are neck pumpkins, and I will not pick them till they're mature--tan on the outside and orange on the inside--like a giant butternut squash. The Zucchetta R. are a little darker green and also striped.

Grant says they look like lethal weapons. He's got a point. Even the grasshoppers don't seem to be bothering them.

Ammendment: In the biggest squash, we found the barest beginnings of a swelling and seed formation at the blossom end. I don't know what the mature stage of this squash would be like, but obviously, seed formation would have to happen somehow or its propagation would be problematic. The point is that, even at very large sizes, these squash are still at the immature, tender stage.

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Vincent (6?), Dwight's son, grew edible soybeans this year as his own personal gardening project. We had some for supper, eaten in the traditional Japanese way. They were cooked, pods and all, in salted water, for 10 minutes. Then I drained them and ran cold water over them. At the table, each of us popped the beans straight from the pods into our mouths, and discarded the pods.

In Japan this summer treat is often served with beer. I served ours with sloppy joes, sliced tomatoes, and Godzilla squash--sliced and fried and anointed with hot mustard and soy sauce.

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Hiromi is trying to find the copyright holder of a book that was first published in London in 1934 by Christophers. It was reprinted by Harvard University Press in the 1950s. He wants to quote from it in a book he's writing, and needs permission if it's still copyrighted.

Harvard sent us a fax today saying they never had the copyright on this book, but were only the American printer and distributor. They don't have any information on Christophers.

We think Christophers is a publishing house no longer in business, and the book is probably in the public domain, but we've got to make sure somehow. Any ideas?

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My parents plan to go to Iowa this weekend for a gathering of couples who were married there in 1950 or thereabouts.

They love being with this group of people, several of whom are my mother's cousins and my dad's CPS buddies. I'm glad they're able to do this traveling. They were planning to go alone, but Mom apparently had second thoughts recently and prefers that Linda go along.

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The crew resurfacing the road past our place works four ten hour days each week--Monday through Thursday.

On Monday when we had an early morning shower, there was a lot of standing around at the end of our drive waiting for the road surface to dry. Max took advantage of the situation and raced around in delighted circles, stopping by the tall skinny guy occasionally to be petted and fussed over.

When I grumbled about the wasting of our tax dollars out there, Hiromi said, "That's what they said." He had stopped to talk to the crew when he returned from an errand, and they explained that they can't put down asphalt on a wet surface or it won't bond well to its foundation. It makes sense of course, but it still seems like a shame. I think the work finally got underway about an hour and a half after they arrived on the scene.

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I've been experimenting with making a version of Susanna's bread in my bread machine. I set it for the dough cycle, and then bake it in a regular bread pan in the oven. Even when I halve the recipe, it makes a very large loaf in the 9 x 5 pan.

I think I'll try baking it in two smaller pans. It will fit into the toaster more easily that way, and I can let it rise a little longer before it outgrows the pan.

I'm sacrificing some of the artistry and authenticity of the European-style bread by using the bread machine and regular bread pans, but I'm willing to do that in this case for the sake of convenience. Every loaf is painlessly kneaded for 20 minutes without my having to dirty my hands in the dough or wash the mixer bowl and beaters afterward. I think I agree with the baker who said, "the experience of hand kneading dough is vastly overrated." I have a shameless consumer mentality here, I know.

I tweaked the recipe by adding a higher percentage of whole wheat flour, and made a few other small changes. The bread is tender and fine grained, and has a wonderful flavor.

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Last Sunday was Ollie and Emma's 50th wedding anniversary celebration. Emma is my youngest aunt on Dad's side. I think it's amazing that she is able to celebrate her 50th anniversary while all of her 11 older siblings are still living. Most of them have had a similar celebration in the past.

Their own mother died at the age of 58--a year older than I am now. I'm a little fuzzy on this right now, but I think she died on Easter morning earlier in the year that Emma got married.

Ollie and Emma's wedding was the first to take place after Center church was organized. The building must not have been finished, however, because the wedding happened at the Elreka gym, as I recall.

My aunts were important to me as I was growing up. Besides Emma, Lizzie and Esther figured big among my heroes. They often babysat us and helped out when there was a new baby at our house.

We didn't know Ollie in his growing up years, since he lived in Plain City, OH then. However, he had many first cousins in this area since his mother grew up here, and after he had completed a term of voluntary service in Canada, he came here to work. My grandfather hired him, and eventually turned over the farm to him after he and Emma were married.

I can't imagine the family or the community without Ollie. He knows how to fix almost anything, and is good at organizing work projects. He managed his own affairs admirably and has often helped others in need. He is the kind of stable, supporting brother that people in every community and church need.

Emma knew how to milk cows and work in the fields as well as anyone. But she proved to have good domestic skills as well. She's a good cook and gardener. She has a great sense of humor--very convenient for someone who loves to tease and joke as much as Ollie does.

Their oldest son died of pneumonia at the age of five months. Later, they lost their house and nearly all their belongings in a house fire. Life was not always easy for them.

They raised the four children who were born to them and the two they chose from an orphanage in El Salvador--three boys and three girls, in all. The two middle children, Karen and Marjorie, are the only ones who live now in Kansas.

For as long as I can remember, Emma has been the backup Mom when our own Mother was on a trip or unavailable for some reason. She helped us decide when the corn was ready to harvest and invited us over for a meal to help clean up leftovers from the singing.

Within the past year, Ollie and Emma moved into their retirement home on their own farm. Their son-in-law has the dairy herd now, just as Ollie once took over dairying there from his own father-in-law. The younger family lives in the house that replaced the one that burned.

Life moves on, and things will not always be this way, but for now, it's good to have Ollie and Emma part of our lives, just as they have been for more than 50 years.