Gettin' Figgy With It

Now that blueberry season is in the rearview, we've been able to have a little fun with our food again.  I usually don't have the energy to cook a real meal after a big harvest day, so we've been reduced to sandwiches from the sub shop and frozen pizzas for too long.

We finally fired up the clay oven for the first time in weeks.

On last night's pizza menu: homegrown figs, pimiento peppers, basil, and rosemary.  Our farmer's market friends contributed tomatoes, red onions, and goat cheese.

It's amazing how figs become their own delicious warm jam after two minutes in the pizza oven.  I think we'll be doing this all the time now.

Good enough to be a meal on their own.

It was a ten-pizza night.  This one was my favorite.

And, just so you know, I made a fig tart earlier in the week.  We're talking about roasted butternut squash & onions, ricotta, and pesto.

Life Doesn't Get Any Better

Ben and I were fortunate enough to be invited to volunteer at this year's Lambstock.  We got to spend time with the incredibly welcoming animals of Border Springs Farm and meet equally incredible chefs, farmers, and mixologists.

A very sweet Nubian goat couple.

Mama sheep was nice enough to let me cuddle her baby.

Now, for the debauchery of it all.

Lambstock put a temporary kibosh on my 16 years of vegetarianism, and I couldn't have enjoyed it more.  I felt good about sinking my teeth into perfectly prepared lamb, turkey, and pork because I know that those animals had lived lives that anyone would envy.  Anyway, that's not what I really want to talk about.  At Lambstock, it's all about making new friends, eating too much, and indulging in a sip or two.  I consumed so much mammal that by the last meal of the event, I was convinced that turkey was a vegetable.

 Pork belly, get in my belly!

Punch, please.

Yep, I ate a boatload of that.  Who ever knew lamb could taste so good?

All dressed up and ready for the party.

No bones about it.

See, sometimes we do get away from the farm.

Summer Wine

Sweet and dry strawberry wine

We've just bottled our first wine ever!  We corked and capped 5 gallons of sweet strawberry and 3 gallons of dry strawberry wine last night and not a moment too soon.  We needed to make room in our makeshift "fermentation chamber" (the office closet).  I've got a couple gallons of blackberry and some blueberry peach wine that will be moving into the closet this week.

I think it'll be about a year until any of this stuff is drinkable.  It's down right harsh going into the bottle, so it needs to mellow out a lot before coming out of the bottle.  I've got my fingers crossed that we won't end up with eight gallons of strawberry vinegar on our hands.

96 Degrees In the Shade (If You're Lucky)

Have you ever lain on a vent?

I mean have you ever really lain on a vent?  Bliss.

 You should see our air filter.  Unbelievable.  No wonder I have to do a Neti Pot every single day right now.  Thurgood Morsel loves to lie on an air vent at every opportunity during the summer.  He lies on the vent in the living room all day, and he lies on the vent in our bedroom every night.  He steers clear of all vents in the winter when they blow warm air (We try to keep it cool for the boys in the winter.  I have to don a hat, scarf, and fleece the whole season just to survive our house.  I like to look on the bright side and think about all money saved on heating bills.  Unfortunatley, all that "saved" money is cancelled out by our central air usage).  St. Bernards were not made for the South.  

My nasal passages are so clogged-up that I have almost completely lost my sense of smell.  I used to think that people who complained about their "allergies" were hypochondriacs.  I didn't believe that allergies were actually a real thing.   Now I think that I'm allergic to pollen and dogs.  How does a dog-lovin' farmer go on?  Suck it up and quit your damn complaining!  Shut your pie hole!

Miles Monday: Meet Our Littlest Monster

I first noticed Miles' hidden talent when the two of us were browsing the shelves at a dog-friendly independent video rental shop.  A woman walked up to me and asked with sincere concern, "What's wrong with him?"  I looked down, and Miles was resting comfortably on the cool floor in the position pictured above.  

Extreme flexibility is just one of the many unique traits Miles possesses.  Listed below are a few more things about our beautiful beast that you might not know. 

Name:  Miles Styles Giles

Aliases:  "Moe-My Gaddafi: The Fresh-Maker, The Dictator, The Brother-Hater,"  "Old Shuffle-Step," "Inspector Miles"

Sex:  Neutered Male

Weight: 125 lbs.

Height:  Just Tall Enough to Eat Off the Kitchen Table

Birthdate:  January 19, 2009

Hometown:  Columbia, MO

Hometeam:  Central Missouri Humane Society

Titles:  2009 Mid-Missouri Pet Idol, Fat Bear Farm Quality Control Supervisor

Dislikes:  Puppy Mills, Thurgood Morsel, Strangers, Baths

Food:  Sweet Potatoes, Yogurt, Eggs, Juice from the Tuna Can, Pizza Bones, Homemade Treats

Films:  Beethoven, Beethoven's Second

Interests:  Whatever Mommy's Up To

Hobbies:  Running My Crazies in the Backyard, Hiking, Chewing Bones, Contortion, Fetch, Dress-up

Personality Traits:   Protective, Fiercely Loyal 

As you can see, Miles is talented, handsome, intelligent, and dedicated to his pack.  I couldn't ask for a better pet.  So, if you're thinking about adding a little critter to your family, consider a rescue pup.  If Miles Giles hasn't done enough to convince you of the treasures that await you in your local animal shelter, take a look at the information below:

About 5 million to 7 million dogs and cats end up in animal shelters every year in this country.

Approximately 3 million to 4 million of these animals are euthanized every year.

If you're interested in a specific breed, a shelter just might have what you're looking for.  Twenty-five percent of dogs in shelters are purebred.

You can be a hero if you opt to adopt!