^{photo credit: my younger daughter}

A couple weeks ago, after much dragging of feet, my husband and younger daughter finally took Daisy to auction.

^{photo credit: my younger daughter}

Dropping her off kinda broke his heart, and it made me sad, too, but once she was gone, it was a tremendous relief. Bulk-processing milk from two cows, and at breakneck speeds, had been sucking up a ton of my time. 

And then I decided to go one step further and not even make cheese with the milk we do have. For a couple weeks (and maybe even longer, we’ll see), I’m giving myself permission to skip cheesemaking entirely. I skim the milks, saving the cream for us, and then the skimmed milk goes to Fern and Petunia.

 At first, feeding all our fresh, wonderful milk to the pigs felt terribly wrong (it’s hard for me to silence the voice in my head that says I gotta make the most of everything), but it’s not actually a loss. Feeding the milk to the pigs saves us on feed costs and goes towards our future sausage, and when I water plants with the whey (or milk!), the nutrients build up the soil. In other words, “dumping” the extra milk isn’t wasteful — it’s just a shift in perspective. Food production is cyclical, and sharing the milk with the animals (and land) is as valuable as using it up directly ourselves. 

mascarpone cheese

Now that I’ve forced myself to let go, instead of the milk controlling me, I’m controlling the milk. And the best part? Once again I have energy to play! I’m having so much fun brainstorming new, more complicated (to me, anyway, because they’re new) hard cheeses, as well as returning to more recipes that call for smaller amounts of milk and cream, like soft cheeses and ice creams. It’s lovely.

berry cream swirl

(And very delicious.)

***

Daisy’s sale stats: She went for “82 dollars a hundred,” and since she weighed 1470 pounds, so we got a check for $1169, after the fees were removed.)

This same time, years previous: the coronavirus diaries: week whatever, the quotidian (7.29.19), the quotidian (7.30.18), my deficiency, do you strew?, heading north, the quotidian (7.30.12), Indian pilaf of rice and split peas.

The other day I read a quote by Kate that went something like this: Make supper first thing in the morning because then, no matter what happens the rest of the day, at least you have supper. 

So yesterday morning, right after breakfast, I washed lettuce, chopped veggies, and boiled eggs for the evening’s chef salad. And it’s a good thing I did, too, because then I invited my daughter-in-law to go on a walk with me and afterward we sat down at the table to eat lunch together (toasted olive bread and cheese, gazpacho, and iced coffees) and ended up talking until after four o’clock! And then my husband and I ran out the door to play Ultimate. Limping into the house afterward, hot and sweaty and bone-weary, I was so thankful for my early-morning thoughtfulness.

Once again this morning, with the same bulls-by-the-horns energy, I made supper right after breakfast. This time: vegetarian groundnut stew.

Supper made, I feel ridiculously smug. I can sit here on the couch, absorbed in my other projects, knowing all the while that no matter what else may come up, a full, nourishing dinner awaits.*

It’s lovely. 

*I still need to cook the brown rice in the turkey broth, and stir the peanut butter into the veggies…

This same time, years previous: yogurt, the water-bath method, hill of the martyrs, in the kitchen, injera and beef wat, a trusty skirt, the quotidian (7.28.14), rest and play, the boy and the bike ride, July evening.

Quotidian: daily, usual or customary;
everyday; ordinary; commonplace

Espresso + raw sugar + whole milk + ice = my afternoon delight.

I have plans.

Just one of the many variations.

Blueberry-topped.

Blueberry-swirled.

Everyday ice cream: I made it on (to?) the big screen!

Our snuffly four-legged garbage disposals: throwing out food has never been so fun.

Ultimate(ly) wet.

He’s yet to perfect the art of packing light.

Siblings: 5/9ths.

Sisters (in law).

After dinner ramp plans: for the parents.

This same time, years previous: peach pie with bourbon and fresh rosemary, Magpie, Italian meringue buttercream, the best one yet, lemony cream cheese frosting, all practicality, in the kitchen, vegetarian groundnut stew, a riding lesson.