Bacony Brussel Sprouts - Oh Sooooo Good

    I spent my entire day Sunday cooking.  I only do it a couple of times a year, so I don't mind it.  One of my most favourite holiday side dishes is Bacony Brussel Sprouts.  I only make them a couple of times a year because they are time consuming to make, and let's be honest I would give us all hardening of the arteries if I made them more than a couple of times a year.  

   As a kid I HATED those bitter green orbs.  It took me until my teens to acquire a taste, and then I was hooked.  Now I LOVE those delicious little green balls of goodness!  They really do have a very distinctive taste, and it is an acquired taste.  Maybe more than an acquired taste, it takes more mature taste buds.  When Christopher and I were first married, he was not a fan.  It took this recipe to make him fall in love with the noble brussel sprout.

    Originally I would just cook the brussel sprouts in salted water, then serve and top with butter.  They were plenty tasty.  Two years ago Christopher gave me a Emeril Lagasse cookbook for Christmas ( I asked for it).  I fell in love with his green bean recipe that involved cooking the green beens in chicken broth and bacon.  He was the inspiration for my greatest hit (well according to my own self if that counts for anything).

    The first step is to select your brussels.  You can buy them frozen, but I prefer fresh (mainly because I have it down to an art with fresh, and would not be sure how to time frozen).  I only need a few because they are just for Christopher and I (although I do make the kids try them every time).  I like them to be compact, and have the leaves nice and tight.  I then wash them with soap and water.

    The next step is to cut the hard bottom off them.  Don't take off too much because it will cause the brussel to fall apart, trust me on this, I know from experience.

    The next step is to score the bottom in a letter "X".  I'll be honest I'm not sure about the reasoning behind this one, but I saw them do it on The Food Network.  It seems to me they said it let the flavours soak in better, who knows, but I do it.

    The next step is to toss those little green nuggets into a large pot with chicken broth and about a teaspoon of salt.  I let them cook on medium high for about 7 minutes.  I don't want to cook them to completely tender at this stage.

    The next step is the most important!!!!! I like to cut my bacon up into small squares, it speeds up the cooking time.  I also tend to put in two or three whole slices just for decoration later (plus for the delicious bacon drippings).  When the bacon has cooked up enough to produce some nice drippings I saute chopped white onions.  I have to say the smell is heaven!

    The next step, toss in the cooked, drained brussels into the bacon and onion mix (after the onion has browned up).  I like to brown the leaves up a bit, and really let the bacon drippings soak in.  At this point I sprinkle a little salt over the top.

    The last step in this lengthly, but totally worth it process is to toss everything into a casserole dish and cook it on 350 degrees for about half an hour.  I should warn you, your mouth will drool a lot during the cooking process, the smell is AMAZING!

    The last step, serve.  Oh they are sooooo good.  These are not for the health conscious, and I would not recommend eating them more than twice a year... for health reasons (it's really not that healthy to cook with bacon fat... although seriously good).  When you open that casserole lid, you will be met with a beautiful sight.  The green is almost neon (the camera does not do it justice), with toasted brown spots, and crusted in bacon.

    For my fellow brussel sprout lovers out there, give these a try.  Let me know what you think.

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Giving Thanks For What We Have

    Happy Thanksgiving!  Thanksgiving for us in the past was not traditionally a big deal.  We had our feast more out of obligation, than out of desire of the tradition.  My Nana died Thanksgiving Monday 19 years ago, that took a holiday that held no real meaning and spun it into a sadder tradition for my family of origin (my parents).  We had a feast, but it really meant very little to our family, other than the fact that we were all together and sharing a fine meal.

    Thanksgiving for me all changed when Gabe died.  Traditionally Christmas a really big deal for my family (husband, and kids).  We went crazy with the outside lawn decorations, and even won contests for them.  I was like a really big kid.  Our Gabe passed away on Christmas Eve 2004.  The bottom dropped out of my world, and Christmas would never ever be the same.  We put on a show for the kids, because they deserve to have happy Christmas memories, but for Christopher and I Christmas lost it's sparkle.  We began to make a bigger deal out of the other holidays, most especially Halloween.  Thanksgiving took on a new meaning to me after we lost Gabe.  I was thankful for what I had, because I know knew that life is fragile and can easily be taken.

Riley's list of  things she is thankful for...
Closes, Puppy, Family, Money, Food, Friends, Life, and Books

    I have always been a glass half full person.  After we lost Gabe, I clung to this character trait.  I looked for the good that had come from the bad, the terrible, our nightmare.  I had to cling to the good, or loose my mind.  Thanksgiving now truly meant giving thanks for what we "did" have.   Every Thanksgiving we set an extra plate for Gabe, because he is still a member of our family, and we are thankful that we had him in our lives, even if for only 9 years.  We include Gabe in every holiday, because it's important to us that the kid's remember their big brother is not physically with us, but is still a member of our family.  It was also important that we do not make a martyr of him, or disrespect him by only talking about the good, if acted like the child was a saint, then we were saying that the smart mouthed, funny boy he was, was not good enough.

Rowan's List of things he is thankful for....
My Puppy, Crayons, Friends, Toys

    For Thanksgiving I knock myself out.  I have a ham, a turkey, mashed potatoes, turnip and carrots, bacony brussel sprouts, broccoli, coleslaw, homemade rolls, 4 types of pie.  The table is so full, to the point of overflow.  The feast is almost pagan to me, it feels like a prayer for our year to be as bountiful as this feast before us.  We go around the table and share what we are thankful for.  Last year the kids made place-mats for everyone telling why they were thankful that that person was in their life.

    I am thankful for what I have.  I have been given a gift.  Even as my washing machine is thumping right now with a load of vomit sheets, I am thankful.  I am thankful for the little girl who spent the night throwing up, and am thankful for the brothers and sisters she will give that stomach bug to (don't get me wrong, I'm not crazy, I am not thankful for the extra work, or the stomach bug).  I lead a blessed life, and I know it.  Even on my worst of days (and there have been a lot of those), I feel blessed to have had the terrible things that have happened in my life.  They have made me strong, they have made me appreciate what I have.  They have made me appreciate how fragile life is and to try to live in the now.

   As I leave this off, I would like to share a poem that as children we said at meals with my Nana.  Nana was strong Scottish lady (like there is any other kind of Scottish lady).  When I say it, it makes me smile every time and think about my Nana.  It also really rings true for Thanksgiving...  for me.

Some hae meat, but canna eat;

Some hae nane that want it;

But we hae, meat;

And we can eat;

Sae let the Lord be thankit.

(Some have meat, but cannot eat;

some have none, but want it;

but we have meat;

and we can eat;

So let the Lord be thanked)

Happy Thanksgiving.

Carrot and Squash Soup- Yes It's Fall!

    The leaves are turning, the days are getting cooler, it's fall.  I am not a fan of fall, because it means winter is on it's way, and I hate winter.  Technically I do like fall.  The weather is really nice, the air smells very fallish (that sweet/ musty smell of the fallen leaves).  The fall colours are beautiful!  The fall makes me feel very Mother Earthish.  I just want to cook, and put by stores for the winter.

    One of my family's favourite fall dishes is Carrot and Squash Soup.  It's super easy, super healthy, and super yummy.  It is really tasty teamed up with a slice of fresh buttered bread.

    I usually use acorn squash and or butternut squash for my soup.  They are super hard to cut with a knife.  When I first started making this soup I would spend half an hour cutting the squash, and getting bruises on my palm from the back of the knife (from pushing down).  I then tried cutting the squash in half and putting it in a lasagna pan with water and cooking it for half an hour.  I have now settled upon the easiest and laziest way yet, I put the whole acorn in the oven for half an hour.  It comes out nice and soft, and really easy to peel.

    After I have cooked the squash in the oven for half an hour I peel them, clean the seeds out, and cut them.  I put the cut up squash (two squash worth of cut up squash) in a dutch oven with about 6 cut up carrots.  I then add add about 6 packages of chicken bullion (chicken broth would also work), and about half a teaspoon of salt and cook it for about half an hour, or until the carrots and squash are really soft.  The whole house smells amazing while this cooks.

    After the carrots and squash are cooked, let it cool.... trust me on this one (I have had a good few burns from being impatient, trust me on this one).  When it has cooled down, strain the mixture with a bowl under your strainer, you want to save the liquid.  Put the cooked carrots and squash into the blender.  Add some of the drained liquid to the carrots and squash.  If you want a chunky soup add less liquid, smooth, add more.  It took me three blenders full for my pot of soup.  On last blender batch I added milk instead of the liquid.  After the mixture is all blended, I add ground pepper to add to the taste.  You'll need to heat the soup up a bit, and then you are good to go.

    This is a really big hit at our house.  Christopher puts in requests for carrot and squash soup and my potato leek soup.  It just tastes like fall to me.  I like how easy it is, and I like how healthy it is.

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A Beautiful Sight

    Sometimes I like to spy on the kids at recess (I need to qualify that with "my kids", other wise it's just weird).  I like to see them, and them not see me.  It shows me what their recess really looks like.  Are they having fun?  Are they standing alone?  This may to some seem like an invasion of their privacy, but to me it is a peek into their well being, an unobtrusive peek.  When they come home from school I ask them "How was your day?"  Inevitably the answer is  "good" the standard one word answer that tells me nothing.  Most days they are not very forthcoming unless something really exciting happened.  I then move on to "Did anything interesting happen today?"  the answer, usually "no".  Honestly it's like playing 20 questions.  You have to know the right question to ask before you get more than a one word answer.  Inevitably I will find out information second hand that would have been important knowledge that day, so that I could have done something about it.  Don't get me wrong, I don't take my a coffee and binoculars for a stake out of recess, that would be just, well ... creepy.  Sometimes if I know that they have been having problems with an individual child bothering them, or if I worry that they don't have any friends, I will make a special trip to spy.  Generally just I go and take a peek if I am in the general area.

    Yesterday was one of those times that I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.  I parked my car in the driveway, and looked out at recess.  I spotted Rowan right away (his bright red hair is an easy spotting device).  I saw that he was playing with his friend and that they were having fun.  His face was so animated, and happy.  My heart did a little happy beat.  A few seconds later I saw a little blonde girl run from behind the play structure and grab onto his hand.  He ran around the playground holding her little hand.  I was pleasantly shocked.  He was holding Elly's hand, and playing with Elly!

    My girls are like little mother hens.  They are constantly clucking around Elly.  They are very maternal, the both of them.  Rowan is a very laid back kid (unless that is he loses his temper, and then watch out).  He plays with Elly if it suites him, and she's o.k. with that.  Elly does not seem to expect a lot from Rowan.  Riley has come home from school a few times and told me that she let Elly play with her and her friends.  She is the one that leads Elly back to her classroom.  Usually it is Riley who looks out for Elly.  It really took me by surprise to see Rowan letting Elly play with him and his friend.  Don't get me wrong, Rowan loves Elly, and he's good to her, but I didn't think that it would occur to him to watch out for her.

    I sat in my car, barely blinking back the tears, this stupid smile on my face. As I sat there watching them I saw that Rowan would run, but would look down to make sure that she could match his stride.  Then I would see him stop and look down at her to talk.  It was beautiful, truly beautiful. It was one of those days where I think to myself  "I'm doing a good job".  I don't want my kids to feel tied to each other.  It's important that they have their own "separate" lives, but I want them to feel connected to each other.  It was a good day.

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The Dreaded Frink Centre

      I am not an outdoor enthusiastic.  That is putting it a bit mildly.  You will never hear me suggest "Let's go for hike."  I don't like the cold, or the extreme heat, I am more of a 79 degrees without humidity type of a gal.   I don't like bugs.  I don't really like to get dirty.  I don't like to sweat, or have an accelerated heat rate.  Growing up my family LOVED to be outside.  Pretty much from the time they woke up until the time for bed, they were outside.  If it weren't for the fact that I look like my mother, I would have thought I was adopted.  I appreciate, metaphorically speaking the beauty of the great outdoors, but it's really not my thing.  My parents used to call me "Princess", and not in the affectionate way I call my girl, it was more in a sarcastic way.

   When I was in public school, our school would go to the "Frink Centre".  The Frink Centre is an outdoor education centre. We would hike through the forest and look at nature.  On one trip we put on hip waders and took nets to catch bugs to look at.  Our nature guide was named "Timber" and he knew a lot about nature.  As a kid I actually didn't mind the Frink Centre.  I was not a big fan of school, and so it was better outside, then learning math (not a math-athlete).

    My kids go to the same schools that I did as a child.  It's pretty neat.  I discovered that they still took some of the same trips, namely The Frink Centre.  My first trip to the Frink Centre was with Gabe's class.  It was an  eye opener to say the least.  It was freezing cold, and yet somehow there was mud, mud that worked its way up my pant legs, and into my running shoes.  I got saddled with all of the unruly kids in Gabe's class for my group.  I spent most of my time trying to stay warm and locating the wanders from my group.  I learned a lot on that first trip.  I learned that I HATE the Frink Centre, and that school trips in the future would be challenging. That same first scene was to repeated itself, well ... repeatedly with each of the kids.

    A few weeks ago I was at Grace's (she's in grade 6) school when her teacher asked me if I could go with the class to the Frink Centre.  I tried to not openly shudder, even though on the inside I was practically convulsing. I assured her teacher (who is a sweetheart) that someone from our family would be there.  I then went home and set about trying to trick my parents into going on the trip.  After my initial attempts at trickery failed, I begged.  Mom shared that she LOVED The Frink Centre, but she just didn't feel like her hip would be up for it, damn.  That night when Christopher got home I told him that he had to take the day off work to go to the Frink Centre.  He couldn't, too many people away, damn. It was me, I was going to the dreaded Frink Centre.

    The night before the trip I had the whiney mantra "I hate the Frink Centre.  I hate the Frink Centre." This mantra continued into that morning, only a bit more frequently, and with a bit more of a panicked tone to it.  The weather forecast for Wednesday was cold and rainy, it figured.   The morning of the Frink Centre trip I met up at the school with one of the other Mom's.  This mom happens to be the mom of one of Grace's friends, and a lady who I consider to be a friend.  We decided to drive together.  We stopped and got Tim Horton's Coffee on our way out of town.  The day was already starting to look up.  It was supposed to rain, and when we arrived it was sunny and nice and warm, the day was getting a little bit better.  The bus arrived just after we got there, and we were off to meet the nature interpreter, Paul. He told the kids that we were going to be doing three activities.... the survival game, shelter building and finally a nature walk.  My heart did not fill with joy for any of these suggested activities.

    For the survival game the kids all went to a forested area that had been roped off.  In the game area were "food" and "water".  6 of the kids were "fox", and they had 4 lives.  The fox needed to eat rabbits (take their wooden life token) and get water to survive.  The rest of the kids were "rabbits" and they needed to find food and water to survive, and were given 6 lives.  The adult volunteers (me) were "weather".  If weather saw any foxes or rabbits they had to give up a life (wooden token).  The teachers were "human influence".  If "human influence" saw any fox or rabbit they were instantly dead, and had to return to the beginning of the game.  I was not keen to chase children through the forest.  I played along like the good sport I am (well more the good sport that I pretend to be).  Turns out I really enjoyed the game.  I have a pretty big mean side which I try really hard to suppress.  I took great delight in sneaking up on the kids and asking them for one of their lives.  A few of them told me that it wasn't fair, I'd already caught them once.  Being the amazing humanitarian that I am, I told them "Stinks to be you, doesn't.  Now give me one of your lives."  Sometimes an evil laugh accompanied this.  I was actually a little sad when the double whistle blew announcing the end of the game.

   After the survival game we had lunch.  I sat with the other mom and Grace's teacher.  Lunch was nice.  I had grown up talk, I don't get that too often.  After lunch we walked down to another area for shelter building.  The kids were divided into groups of 5, and then had to build a shelter that would keep them warm if they were ever stranded in the woods. They were each provided with a tarp, and some logs of different sizes.  

  

    It was really neat to walk around and listen to them discuss their shelter.  There were the leaders, and then there were the followers.  In some groups everyone got a say.  For the most part the boys and girls were equally divided into groups.  There was however one group of just boys and two groups of just girls.  It was really neat to see how differently they worked.  The boys were most concerned with function.  When I was looking at the boys structure, one of them proudly wanted me to see how sturdy theirs was, he climbed up on top of it and jumped up and down.  They finished theirs early and so began to find rocks to construct a fire pit.  The fire pit made me giggle, it was so clever.  When I went to see the girls, they were really proud of their shelter and wanted to show me the carpet that they had made using moss that they had found.  They kept telling me how warm and cozy their shelter was.  For boys it is function, for girls it is comfort.  Both are really if you think about it, equally important.

   The funniest thing in the shelter building was the one group of girls.  They had no clue.  For a while they just stood there.  Then they decided to take action and had this huge log leaning against this fragile little branch.  I walked over and asked them if they had come up with a plan before they started building.  No, No they had not.  I then asked them if it seemed like a safe idea to have that huge log resting against the tiny branch that was already straining against the load.  No, no it was probably not a great idea.  In the end I looked around to see if any other grown up was looking and went in.  It was killing me to not just take over and tell them how to build it.  I suggested that they build their shelter on a flat clearing.  I then showed them the crook between two trees that would make a perfect and safe place to lay their large log.  They all agreed and started working.  I wandered to look at the other kid's shelter, thinking it was not fair, nor would they learn if I stood and helped them.  When I came back I saw the other mom helping them, I giggled to myself.  Apparently she felt the same way as I did, and then went off to look at the other shelters.  Not long after she left, their teacher came over to help.  At one point the other mom and I were both carrying logs and helping them to build their shelter.

    After we had deconstructed the shelters we went on a nature walk.  The weather was beautiful.  The air smelled so nice, that sweet smell that the decomposing leaves give off, the smell of fall.  The leaves were turning those gorgeous shades of yellow and blazing orange and rust.  The walk was really nice.  The guide would stop every few minutes and point out something of interest to the kids.  At one point in the trip we stopped and the kids could lift up the logs and try to find creatures.  They found tiny little toads and a salamander, and a tiny snake about the same size as dew worm.  I desperately wanted to rip them out of the kid's hands and play with them ( I don't like getting dirty, but I like to play with frogs and toads and icky things).  It was nice to see the joy on their faces as they discovered wild things.

    So it turns out I don't really hate the great outdoors.  It can be fun.  It also turns out under the right conditions that I actually like the Frink Centre.  I learned a bit myself, and really enjoyed watching the kids.  This trip I did not get saddled with any bad kids, and I'll be honest, I didn't see any bad kids really on this trip.  After all of the dreading, I actually really enjoyed myself.  I guess I could do the next Frink Centre trip without the whining. 

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It Was Really Just A Matter Of Time

    I am a little surprised that it took this long.  Yesterday the girls were upstairs playing and I heard more giggling than usual.  I also heard gasps of  "Oh Fergus", followed by belly laugher.  It was not too long after that I heard the clip clop clip clop of little paws thunking down the stairs.  He was closely followed by two little girls still giggling.  

"Mommy, Mommy look at Fergus!"  Riley gasped.  I walked into the living room to see Fergus in one of Gabe's old baby shirts.  He looked humiliated.  "I put this baby shirt on Fergus.  Isn't he soooooooooo cute!"  Riley was so proud of herself.  Elly piped in with the "I holded his head.  Oh Fergus you so cute."

I'm not surprised they did it, I'm just surprised that it took them this long to realize that they could.
    When I was a little girl, we had a hobby farm (three acres).  We had a barn that was full of barn cats.  There was one male jet black long-haired cat in particular that I was especially in love with and he for some unknown reason was in love with me.  Everyday I would go outside, and he would seek me out.  I would then proceed to dress him in baby doll clothes.  I'm talking frilly dresses and a bonnet.  He just let me.  I would then tuck him into my doll carriage with a blanket up to his neck.  He just lay there.  I would push him around the yard until one of us became bored (it was usually me).  He and I had the same routine almost everyday in the summer.  I treated him like he was a doll, and he let me.
    We have had Fergus for a month now.  At first he was really timid, but he is timid no more.  The kids adore him, most especially Riley.  I just can't believe that they didn't think to treat him like a doll before.  He's in for it now that they know they can.  I heard Elly proclaim "Let's make Fergus have a fashion show."  Good luck Fergus!

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Amazing Graze Alpaca Farm

    The last, but certainly not the least, stop on our farm tour Saturday was the Amazing Graze Alpaca. I really appreciated the easy to see signage (see above picture).  For the other farms our heads were craning, eyes straining trying to find the 911 numbers on their driveways.  Not only was the giant alpacca easy to see, it was adorable.  Finding their farm was a breeze.

    We pulled into the farm and part of a field had been sectioned off for parking.  It was really well thought out, as we were soon to discover, and also really thoughtfully planned out.  The kids by this point knew the drill, and were excited to see what this farm held in store.  The four big kids catapulted out of the van (you may notice that I said "big kids" because we gained an extra "big kid" for the trip, Grace's friend Taylor.  The other part of that was that Elly had jumped ship at Harders Heritage Farm. We met up with my parents there, and she decided that she was going home with Nana and Popa.  She made a significant stink, and I gave in.  Not my best parenting, but honestly, my best sanity tool.)

    We walked up the driveway to discover children's activities, chalkboard with magnets, alpaca colouring pages, and toys.  As we made our way a little farther, there was a pen containing two young Alpacas, and their human, I mean owner.   Riley and Rowan quickly made their way over, pressing their faces against the green metal fence, craning their heads to get a better look, and their arms stretched beyond stretching to try to touch these wonderfully exotic looking animals.  Grace and Taylor were apparently too cool, to make it so obvious.  They casually walked over, touched the alpacas, quickly became bored and asked if they could look around.  Grace and Taylor both rode horses, and I guess that since you cannot ride an alpaca  (or really should not ride alpacas, I am sure some idiots have tried), they were not so interested.  The complete opposite was true for Riley and too a slightly lesser extent Rowan.  Riley just stood at the pen, patiently waiting for one of the alpacas to grace her with it's presence.  I really got a lot of pleasure watching her.  She was so patient, I don't think that I have ever seen her so patient.  Her face just shone when she finally made contact, she had earned the right to have contact, I guess.  I think that Steven (the farms co-owner) took pity on Rowan and brought  one of them over for Rowan to touch.  I am quite certain that if we had not forced Riley and Rowan to come home with us, they may well still be standing at that pen at the Martin's house trying to make friends with the alpacca.

    While Riley stayed at the pen, Christopher and Rowan and I walked to look out in the field at the rest of the herd (I'm not sure if you call alpaca a herd, or a head, or what you call a group of them).  They truly are funny looking creatures.  They look like a child's stuffed toy come to life.  They even sound like stuffed toys.  You know the baby toys that have that squeeker in them kind of a noise.

    We stood watching these strange and exotic animals for a while.  The weather was still beautiful, and it just felt peaceful standing there.  I kept expecting to hear the pan flute somewhere in the background. The kind that you hear in some of the South American like they play in Peru (not that I've ever been there to experience, I just have a very rich imagination).

    After we had watched the alpaca in the field, we went to explore the building that had been set up nicely.  I should add that we had to tear Riley away from the pen before we went to explore.  They had really done a lovely job creating a mini store out of what I assume is normally their garage.  

    There were a lot of really beautiful knitted items for sale.  There were also skeins of alpaca yarn for sale.  I was amazed how soft that the knitted items were.  I think that I expected them to have that prick of wool, but they most certainly did not.  The kids really appreciated being able to see and touch the fleece that had been sheered from an alpaca.

    The other really neat thing to see was a spinning demonstration.  It was really amazing to watch the big puffs of fleece in the basket thin in the skilled woman's hands transformed though nimble fingers and the spinning wheel into yarn. I could easily have watched her for hours.  

    My Mom and Dad had visited the farm before us, and Mom excitedly told me that she was going to take spinning lessons.  Learning how to spin is on Mom's bucket list.  I guess that I should expect lots of knitted alpaca items for Christmas.

    We had a really lovely visit at Amazing Graze Alpacas.  Thank you for hosting us Steven and Marj Martin.  Thank you Steven for answering all of my alpaca questions (even the stupid ones), and for introducing Riley to her new love... alpaca.

    If you would like some more information about Amazing Graze Alpacas please visit their website.

www.amazinggrazealpacas.ca

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Harder Heritage Farm - Living The Right Way

    On Saturday afternoon we visited Harder Heritage Farms as part of the "Get To Know Your Farmer" tour sponsored by Harvest Hastings.  We pulled up into the long driveway, and gasped at the beauty of this haven.  Their home looked like a home you would see in a magazine.  Not the magazines where the houses are pompous, but the magazines like Harrowsmith Country Life, where people love their land and the land in turn loves them.  It was so beautiful.

    We were greeted by this great big friendly dog, it was a pretty nice welcome.  Our second greeter was Owen Harder.  Owen and his wife Jackie own this little piece of paradise.  It really and truly feels like paradise.  Behind where we had parked the van was a pen with pigs.  There were two great big sows and their adorable litter of piglets.  While I was watching the babies, I looked down and noticed the mug caked face of the sow.  This gave me the giggles.  While I was hit with a case of the giggles, said pig climbed into her mug hole and rolled around, which brought on even more giggles, and then she proceeded to shake, not unlike a dog, splattering mud everywhere.  It was great.

    In touring the farm (that they personally built), it became very obvious that everything they did had a sound reasoning to it.  They rotate their animals pens.  This allows the animals plenty of grass and natural food, while it also allows the animals (we saw the pigs and turkeys) to fertilize the whole land.  Owen told us that he moved the turkey pen daily.  The trail that was behind the pen where he had moved them was lush and green (evidence that he is really doing something right).  It was really a wonderful thing to see.  

Are they not the cutest little things?

    Owen and Jackie live off of the grid.  Their farm is powered by solar and wind power.  They do as much of their farm work as they can with their draft horses.  To me it is an amazing existence.  I really admire their work ethic, and ethics.  It was so obvious looking at Owen's face, that he loves this life.  I cannot imagine having that kind of strength and level of commitment to doing the right thing.  Right now both Owen and Jackie both work off of the farm, and then come home and tend their farm.  I honestly cannot imagine that kind of commitment to my dream.

    After we had admired the pigs, Owen told the girls that he had something that they would really like to see.  He was right.  He took us over to see the draft horses.  It's funny, but growing up I never really noticed horses, I mean I "saw" them, but I never really took notice of them.  The thing that is funny about it is that is that horses are really in my bloodline.  My great -grandfather and his father before him, and probably his father before him were blacksmiths in Harrowsmith, Ontario.  When my Dad was a boy he would spend his summers with his Grandma and Grandpa.  Whenever Dad talks about his childhood summers in Harrowsmith, he gets this contented smile on his face.  He would help his Grandfather in the blacksmith shop.  It was here that Dad developed his great love of horses (and lots of scars from them).  I sometimes wonder if Dad's love of horses is just the horses, or maybe even a love of his Grandpa mixed in there.  As a young man my Dad worked at the Greenwood Racetrack exercising horses. Dad loved this work.  He would travel with the horses, it was his passion.  Around the time that Mom was pregnant with me, Dad had to give up his love to care for his family.  Anytime my Dad would sees a horse he sizes it up.  He gives the nod of the head in approval of the horse's care, or a disgusted snort if the horse was not being well cared for.

   Although my Dad was a great horse lover, I never really had much occasion to be up close to a horse.  It was not until Grace decided that she would like to try riding lessons that I ever came up close to a horse.  My friend Laura owns horses, and decided that she would teach riding lessons.  Grace rode this wonderful horse named Caviar.  Part of riding the horse, was getting the horse ready to be ridden.   This mean grooming her.  I would sometimes help Gracie reach the bits of Caviar that she could not reach.  Over time, I fell in love with that horse.  I would groom her, lovingly, and when Laura wasn't looking (not because I couldn't, but because I felt stupid) I would wrap my arms around her neck.  It was almost a spiritual feeling.  It turns out that I love horses.

    When Owen showed us his horses,  I asked almost immediately if I could touch the horse.  After permission had been granted I walked up to the gentle giant and rubbed the top of his nose.  I kept muttering "He's so beautiful".  My Dad gave his nod of approval.  It was really a beautiful thing to see, Owen working with his horses.  There was a great respect between them, respect and love.  Here was this huge animal that could easily kill him, and yet it gently did as it was bidden to do.  It is such a nice thing to see someone who obviously loves and respects his animals.

Owen and Jackie built this beautiful
house themselves.

     In Canada we have become overly dependent upon technology.  We no longer remember how to live off of the land, well majority of us don't.  Remember the Great Ice Storm of 98?  Houses in Kingston were without power for weeks.  We were just very lucky here in Tweed.  I worry about winter storms.  What if our hydro were knocked out?  How would we keep the kids warm?  Owen and Jackie would not have to worry about a power outage, as they do not rely on Hydro for their needs.  All of their power needs are met with solar and wind energy.  If you want to talk about carbon footprints, I'm pretty sure that their carbon footprint is more the size of a baby's toe.  They conduct workshops that teach others how to live off of the land.  There are solar workshops and workshops about working with draft horses.  It sounds like it would make an amazing gift to yourself, or the ecologically minded person in your life.

    We had a really lovely time at Harder's Heritage Farm.  All Rowan could talk about were the horses, and how much he had loved them.  It was funny, because of all of my kids I least expected that reaction from him.  The kids all fell in love with those huge horses.  I don't think that is the last time we will be visiting Harder Heritage Farm.  I plan to give them a call in early spring and order one of those turkeys we saw out in the field.  Thank you Owen for our tour, and for allowing us to see a glimpse of your beautiful life.

    If you would like some more information about the farm or about Owen and Jackie's workshops go to their website and take a peak. hardersheritage.com

I found this neat little clip on youtube, and I thought that you might like to take a peak too.

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