The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same

Its a warm spring evening. The air is scented with Syringa blossom. I am sitting on the verandah, music playing from the house accompanied by a chorus of cicadas, crickets and frogs. Decadent Dad is rattling pots and pans and producing some encouraging aromas from the kitchen. Friday night is Special Night around here, a tradition that he has kept for the last 15 years. I have the night off. He punctuates the end of his working week with a dinner cooked lovingly for our family and we usually watch a movie together. Family traditions are anchors that hold our hearts in unity and the security of our love.

Our lives have changed dramatically over the last six months and then not at all.

We still live in the beautiful stone house on a farm in the Free State. Our plans to move to Cape Town have been put on hold until the required doors open, if they open at all. So here we are, our cows sold, most of our chickens too. I did not sow heirloom seeds in polytrays in midwinter so there are very few exciting heirloom seedlings in our veggie tunnel, mostly just seedlings from last month's farmer's market . Our walls are bare. The paintings are in storage along with our fragile crockery which is wrapped and packed in boxes in Cape Town. We have stopped the market stall. Our journey has been painful and challenging at times, but I am learning again to be content with the here and now. Life here has a different flavour now.

Along with the shift in our circumstances has come a shift in my priorities. My heart has shifted towards my role as wife and mother and keeper of my home. I have been more present physically and emotionally as I homeschool my son. I have caught up on tax admin and started to slowly tackle the years of accumulated clutter in our home. I have also, in true Elastic Mom style, embraced the challenge of providing nutritious meals for my family when the pantry has been lean at times. I have reevaluated our diet and lifestyle and most importantly have renewed my faith in the Lord.

I have a new hope that regardless of where we live and how we live, we are secure in the loving arms of our heavenly Father.

Heirloom Tomato Saga.

I have a treasure trove of seeds, a precious collection given to me by my generous brother-in-law when he left South Africa for the UK. I sorted them into  ten shoe- and ice-cream boxes, one for each family of plants: roots, brassicaceae, curcurbits, aliiums, solanaceae, flowers, herbs, lettuces, legumes, corn and miscellaneous. The solanaceae box alone has more than forty packets of tomatoes, peppers and brinjals. In early winter last year I carefully planned my Spring planting to maximise the use of  these wonderful seeds in our vegetable tunnel. 

In mid-winter we constructed trays of seedling pots from newspaper and sowed seeds in our own home-made seedling mix using sand hauled from the river bed, vermiculite saved from the attic and our own compost.  To thwart frost's dominion over our planting times, I placed the seed pots under lights in our sun room to germinate. 

Besides all the other types of seeds, I sowed 15 varieties of full sized tomatoes and 6 varieties of cherry tomatoes. Last Summer we didn't harvest enough tomatoes to see us through our year, so I planned to grow 24 regular and 12 cherry tomato plants this year. I had glorious visions of tomato sauces, dried and frozen tomatoes stored up for winter. 

I knew that I needed to sow more seeds than we needed in case of failure to germinate. Seed insurance. It's just as well that I did, as quite a few varieties did not germinate at all. From those that did, there were losses along the way, like the time I was ill and my family forgot to water them, and the time the cat thought the trays of seedlings would make a great kitty toilet. 

After months of indoor nurturing, the survivor seedlings were eventually transplanted into bigger pots and hardened outdoors until they were ready for planting in the tunnel. Only 3 varieties of cherry tomato and 8 varieties of regular tomato had made it to this point. However, I still had more than 36 plants waiting for transplanting. My two beloved men prepared the beds, doing the backbreaking work of digging in barrow loads of compost. Then I carefully set out and labelled the seedlings. 

The tomatoes grew fast and furiously. We built wooden trellises to support them. By December they were reaching for the sky and, laden with green globes, bearing promises of a bountiful Summer. We flanked them with borage, nasturtiums  and cornflowers to attract the pollinating insects, and basil to repel the chomping insects. 

Then in January we were away for three weeks. Our home and garden were left int he capable hands of Molly and Blantina. 

We arrived home after dark. We were tired and hungry.  

Baskets of tomatoes and a pile of eggs were a welcome sight. 

My tired brain mulled over the supper problem. What could I make, relatively effortlessly, using egg and tomatoes. There wasn't even any bread in the house. A frittatta was the solution. Fast food, farm style. 

The following morning I was stunned to see the change in our beautiful tomato plants after three weeks. 

They were falling over their supports, all brown and dying, fruit valiantly ripening on the wilted vines. Apparently, while we were in Cape Town,  our water pump was out of order for two of the three weeks, and in scorching weather. 

Over the next few days I rescued as many of the fruit as I could, picking them slightly underripe to prevent pest damage on top of their distress. I tied up, fed and watered the vines, yet we still lost about a third of the plants, with more dying daily. 

With my plans for saving seeds and preserving a year's worth of tomatoes dashed, as few of the tomatoes were still producing flowers, I did what I could to enjoy the wonderful, mostly heirloom varieties that had survived. My scientific nature kicked in. I sorted the tomatoes into their varieties as they ripened indoors and we had tasting contests, and I also experimented with cooking methods for the different varieties.

Here are some of my findings:

CHERRY TOMATOES

BLACK CHERRY (Heirloom, Living Seeds - original cellophane packaging*): Larger than  most cherries, firm and juicy, perfect for salads. Flavour tart and mild. Robust, prolific producer. 100% germination. 

BLONDKOPFCHEN (Heirloom, Living Seeds - original cellophane packaging*): Pretty bright yellow tomato, standard cherry size. Thin skinned. Sweet, tasty tomato. Lovely for drying, salads, and tomato tart. Prolific producer, vigorous vine. Good germination rate.

SWEETIE (Commercial, Kirchoffs): Tiny, bright orange, sweet, tasty cherry. Looks pretty alongside the yellow cherry in a salad or tomato tart. Succumbed to disease more quickly than other cherry types. 100% germination

SMALL TOMATOES

MONEYMAKER (Commercial, Starke Ayres): Small red tomatoes, not quite cherry, nor regular size. They ripened completely to a good red. The plant had died by the time we were home, so only we had a few to try. Good for sauces and stews. Taste unmemorable.

TIGERELLA (Heirloom, Gravel Garden**): Two pretty, small, still green, striped tomatoes were left on the dead plant. They didn't make it to the kitchen. My chef friend says these are wonderful, and sought after, sadly though, not robust enough for our drought.  50% germination (No photo)

REGULAR TOMATOES

HEINZ (Commercial, Starke Ayres): Small to medium, delicious bright red tomatoes. Firm textured. Robust tangy flavour. Perfect for roasting and sauces (obviously). Determinate tomato. Died from drought, but would have died anyway. Short lived, early abundant fruiting. 100% germination.

HILLBILLY (Heirloom, Living Seeds - original cellophane packaging*): I rescued one tomato before the stressed plant succumbed to disease. Interesting yellow and pink markings. Large, boat shaped, well flavoured, juicy tomato. 50% germination. (No photo)

CHEROKEE CHOCOLATE (Heirloom, Living Seeds - original cellophane packaging*). Old style, large boat shaped, mottled orange/olive/brown unattractive colour.  Flavourful firm tomato. Tasty eaten raw or cooked. Suited best to ratatouille-type dishes. Valiant producer in spite of drought.  50% germination.

 ESTLERS MORTGAGE LIFTER (Heirloom, Living Seeds - new paper packaging*). I would love to know the origin of the delightful name. A winner. Abundant fruit. Fairly robust plants. Bright pinky-red, large, boat shaped. The ultimate richly flavoured, juicy sandwich tomato. This is what a home grown tomato should taste like. Great for cooking too. 90% germination.
*** Edited to add link to a different Mortgage Lifter tomato story. I love it.***

COSTOLUTO GENOVESE (Heirloom, Living Seeds - original cellophane packaging*): Medium to small Italian ribbed tomato. Ripens to a bright orange red. Susceptible to disease, not a strong plant, but absolutely the best tasting tomato that we have ever tried. Very decorative when sliced.  Savoury, deep flavour. Definitely wins the prize for most delicious of all. 10% germination.

 GOLDEN MONARCH (Heirloom, Gravel Garden**): Definitely the queen of the tomato garden. A survivor. Enormous bright yellow, old fashioned boat shape. Savoury, sweet and juicy tomato, best served raw, sliced on a plate with a sprinkling of salt. By far the best drought and disease resistance of all the tomatoes I planted this summer. Late, generous producer. Rampant vine. 20% germination.

In spite of all the setbacks and disappointments, I am looking forward to trying again with some different tomato varieties and some of my new favourites next summer. In the meantime, we have pulled up a third of our tomato plants, with more on their way out, and sowed lettuce and chicory seeds in their place to carry us through the rest of this summer.


* Living Seeds is an excellent heirloom seed supplier in South Africa. I picked out their seeds to try from my collection that were the oldest (in their original cellophane packaging). Saved seeds are not usually viable for many years, so those that germinated well are a tribute to the variety and to the way they were saved.

** Gravel Garden is a delightful heirloom seed supplier in the Cape. We visited them in January

Slow Living in November

November has been even more beautiful than October. The magnificent early Summer landscape has helped me to stop... and breathe... and slow down… and give thanks… as we hurtle towards the end of the year. Join me, along with Slow Living Essentials as I remember, remember the month of November. 

NOURISH

Beetroot has surfaced in our tunnel and added it's paradoxical earthy vibrancy to our meals. We are harvesting two heirloom beetroots: Chioggia which, with their pretty concentric rings, are just big enough to pick, and Detroit Dark Red. We also have commercial Crimson Globes. The Detroits have grown big and round. Their colour is truly deep red, their taste more earthy and sweet with a softer cooked texture than the Crimson Globes. The Globes are brighter in colour, firmer with faint concentric rings, but a slightly sharper flavour. Votes are even as to which beet is better.
Forget pickled beets. I decided to experiment with this exciting vegetable. We have enjoyed it tossed in apple cider, tansy and olive oil then roasted and served as a side dish. I have added it into salads, grated raw and in cooked chunks. The Asian salad pictured below was spectacular.

Most unusual, but a definite must-make-again, were the roast root vegetable, bacon and rosemary mini quiches that I made for the market. Along with the beets I roasted a few red onions, little round Paris Market Carrots and freshly dug garlic. 

PREPARE

There's something comfortingly rustic about plaits of garlic and red onions drying in the kitchen. The onions didn't last very long though. I used them up faster than they could dry. All the November cream from Rosie and Joy was turned into many kilograms of butter for croissants, except for a few cups of cream that became peanut butter and chocolate ice-cream for a certain birthday boy. Almost all of their milk became cheese. Most of this preparation was for a market, sadly not my rather empty freezer or pantry. After the market, at the end of the month, when I was about to put my feet up, the apricots arrived, all golden and luscious and needing urgent attention. Now we're jamming…

"We're jammin: I wanna jam it wid you. We're jammin, jammin, And I hope you like jammin too." (Bob Marley)



REDUCE / RECYCLE / REUSE

Reusing, recycling and reducing is everything Elastic Mom is about. A tear through Decadent Dad's T-shirt shelf left him a few shirts less and his workshop a pile of wipe-it-all-up rags more.
Tomato sauce bottles line up in our storeroom, waiting for homegrown tomato sauce to fill them, but then I found these adorable stickers. I am head-over-heels in love with my cute Free State farm milk bottles. I have a set of four stickers but, being Elastic Mom, I'll have to wait until our existing milk bottles break before I can line up my pretty new bottles in the fridge. Considering the current breakage rate, I won't have long to wait.
Just when I thought that was it for new ideas, I noticed a pile of paper bags waiting for recycling. All our November market baking left us with strong flour and sugar bags. Simple. Use-It-Don't-Lose-It. Fold in the top. Punch holes. Tie string and there we have carrier bags for our market customers. They look trendy too, you know, African Chic and all that.

GREEN
Our broad beans were looking wistful, so we watered them with a little epsom salts. While we were at it, we fed the roses and poured it around some pesky ant holes. A few weeks later we were rewarded with a new crop of beans, a flush of roses and fewer ants.

GROW

Brilliant red poppies, along with Hunter our young Rhodesian Ridgeback,  have cheerily greeted visitors entering the gate. Poppies on either side and Hunter in the middle. Quite formidable. No sneaking in quietly around here.The poppy seeds I sprinkled in the flower beds last Autumn burst into bloom after the late Spring rains came. I adore their joyful shout of red, especially when blue cornflowers, columbines or purple campenula are their bedfellows. They have made a striking display, enhancing our view. (Can you spot our cows enjoying the grazing?)

Our vegetables are also flourishing. The potatoes are big and bushy and we haven't been able to resist a little grabbling here and there. Lovely word, grabbling. It's exactly what we do under the roots when we sneak a few for supper.  The runner beans are racing up their stakes. The strawberry popcorn is looking healthy and strong. Our tunnel is such a pleasure, I think our vegetable garden and all it has to offer warrants its own blog post. (Our Joy cow seems to be in the picture quite a lot lately.)

CREATE

While Elastic Mom and Decadent Dad have been busy baking and making all things market related, our competent kids have continued the creativity. His hand blisters were proudly displayed after this hand-carved bow was completed. Strings of stars decorated our Christmas-themed market stall, bringing their own blisters on her scissor-tired hands.
My heart was delighted to walk into my daughter's bedroom and hear music playing, and see her stringing beaded bracelets. Peaceful creativity. Unhurried. Just because.
Halfway through the month she completed her 365 day self-portrait challenge. It has been a pleasure to see her photography skills develop as her project progressed. Every so often I snuck in a behind-the-scenes pic of my own. Take a LOOK at the portrait she produced from the scene below. Her brother's role was just to spray her. She set up the scene, the camera, and took the photo herself.

How does one pose when being sprayed by a high pressure hose?

Her blog is well worth a visit. All of her 365 Self Portraits are on display. Take the time to read her last post. Slow Living on this farm has given her the time and freedom to discover her passion.

DISCOVER
I am a late-comer to the entertainment and education of watching River Cottage and all things by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. Although rather extreme, his fascinating Cook on the Wild Side series amused us in November. I share a moderated version of his "passion for food integrity and consumption of local, seasonal produce", and have indulged in a little foraging of my own this year.

ENHANCE
The big community event of our month was our three day market stall at the local Cabin Cherry Capers. It was exhausting but worth it. Our whole family pitched in to make it a success. Our little business, Rosewood Country Kitchen, was exposed to more local, appreciative customers. There's nothing like a buttery croissant-tasting or cheese-tasting to draw people in. I love meeting different people at these markets. We live near the border of the tiny country, Lesotho, so this seemingly remote Eastern Free State farmer's market attracted a cosmopolitan range of customers. My stall was visited by leather-clad motor-bikers, burly conservative Afrikaans farmers with their poppies, elegantly dressed Basotho couples, Chinese factory managers,  missionaries, travellers passing through, vegetarian humanitarian workers, transient engineers, barefoot little boys and foreign diplomats. I met someone who worked with my Uncle on the Katse Dam many years ago, someone else whose godson is attending the faraway college we are sending our daughter to next year and even managed to find a home for a farm kitten with the new grocery store manager in town.

 

ENJOY
Our precious son turned fifteen this month. We celebrated his birthday with a picnic in the Peter Pan forest beside the barn. Friends joined us for a feast under the poplar trees.We set up chairs and tables. The adults sat in the shade. Happy voices rang out as children of various ages enjoyed the day. The boys made a base. The girls posed for photographs and wandered chatting arm-in-arm in the dappled forest light.
Our poor birthday boy was recovering from tonsillitis which left him tired but happy nonetheless.

Bed time for babies: Our daughter bringing in Hope and Thorn for the night.

 Fifteen years ago we cancelled the application for our little daughter to attend preschool and decided to educate her at home. Our journey, starting as play dough on the kitchen table, stories with a little blonde toddler on my lap, counting with blocks, and learning shapes and colours, has come a long way. Together we studied the stars, battled over trigonometry, discussed the difference between Roman civil law and natural law, shared poetry teas, and generally filled our days with rich learning. 

November marked the end of her homeschool journey, the day she closed her last book and completed Grade Twelve. Words fail me at the gamut of emotion tumbling through my heart, everything from pride and joy to an aching emptiness now that our school days are over. 

Next year she is off to explore new horizons.