Red Dirt Farm and Studio

When Angels come in and surround you with what you need.  Even if you didn’t know you needed it.

That’s what it felt like this week, hearing from all you wonderful people.

Y’all are my mighty community.  I didn’t even know a lot of you were out there and your kind support has surrounded me this week and given me such an uplifting surprise.

I never saw all this coming and wow – thank you – from my heart is all I can say.

 

 

 

Have you ever noticed when a word or a theme comes into your life and keeps repeating and showing up in unexpected places?

  Angels.

All week everywhere I have turned the word Angel was revealed to me.

Oh yes, I am a believer.

How about you – do you believe in Angels?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Did y’all see that magnificent full moon this week?  Oh my goodness.

Frost has turned our world brown and yet there is a certain sculptural beauty to the remaining plants and grasses.  The banana trees are wilted brown and soon will be dormant for the winter.

The other leaves have not turned that special fall color yet.

 

The chickens are all molting, and barely laying eggs, they sell out as fast as they are laid.  The farmstand remains open – stocked with all the canning I’ve done this summer.  Potatoes white and sweet and the very last of the peppers.

  This week I canned 24 1/2 pints of pepper relish and 36 pints of pear butter and 12 1/2 pints of hot pear butter.  I throw the pear scraps out the kitchen door to the delight of the waiting chickens, it’s as if they know.

 

I almost burned the house down the other day.

I put my lunch in the oven under the broiler and then walked away to do something else.  After the house filled with smoke I realized what I had done, I open the oven door and flames leaped out curling their orange fingers up toward the ceiling.

Consequently, the broiler pan is now in the trash can and no lunch for me, as it was the last scrap of food in the house.

  I’ve put off doing the grocery shopping. I got into a rhythm of canning all that last garden stuff I picked before the frost came.  I didn’t want to stop what I was doing to go grocery shopping.  Call it lazy if you want.

  The burning oven set the wheels in motion for the most delicious dinner.

The oven was a charred mess and would be impossible to use before being cleaned, so I set the auto cleaner which is about a 4-hour process.  It stunk so bad that all the doors and windows had to remain open.  Fortunately, it was sunny out and not too chilly.  The oven wasn’t operable for dinner time and being out of food, Mr. Cottage brought home dinner.

There is a run-down diner out this way that has been in existence since the beginning of time – and all the fixtures and decor have remained virtually untouched all this time.  This place is charming from a nostalgia point, but that is about it, the food is mostly just ok, they do however make in my opinion the best anywhere – baked parmesan chicken – and that is what Mr. Cottage brought home to me.   Also, whenever we dine there, the owner makes a point of coming over to our table and speaking to us asking if our meal is ok and how we are doing.  That’s what makes us go back each time.  It’s those little things.

 

This morning I burned the bacon.  Yes, I’ve lost my mind.  If you see it out there anywhere, please tell it to come home.

I may not come back to this place for a bit as we will be heading into the hospital this week and facing a lot “stuff.”

  Prayers for Mr. Cottage, please.

Kim