Tall Clover Farm

When Good Plumbing Goes Bad

Tom

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February 3, 2009

Boz has the right idea: outdoor plumbing

Last Saturday, I found myself wedged in a space better suited for the likes of the Lollipop Guild than for the frame of a man who could body-double for Fred Flintstone. With Teflon tape in hand, 26 useless tools pushed aside, two new wrenches at my knees, and three trips to the hardware store under my belt, I stared down the two failing water shutoff valves with the unflinching focus of a gunslinger. I stood my ground and declared, “This bathroom ain’t big enough for the three of us.” And while that was very true, these two old valves weren’t going anywhere without a fight.

As I do believe my house has a soul and certainly an agenda, I am a mere puppet in its weekly stage show. In fact, I have no doubt that the leaking water valves were its way of hastening the removal of a rococo-inspired particle board vanity. Can’t say I blame it. Unfortunately, the leak had been going on for weeks before I discovered it, so it was now a moldy, buckled, smelly, rococo-inspired particle board vanity—a primordial, sopping stew of all the junk you keep out view under the sink behind closed doors. That day, I learned just how absorbent toilet paper rolls can be.

I confess that even as one handy guy, plumbing eludes—make that—repels me, but there is a lesson to be learned. If six scented candles, a daily dousing of Febreze, industrial grade incense and a Pine Sol scrub-down don’t put a dent in the waft of must in your loo, take a gander under the sink.

Shield your eyes: the view under the sink isn’t pretty.

Art Forged in the Everyday: Train Rails Reborn as Andirons

Tomagrams

Tom

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January 9, 2009

11

Art Forged in the Everyday: Train Rails Reborn as Andirons

Form going beyond function: andirons forged from train rails

Slogging about in a delicate drizzle at a swap meet in south Seattle, I feared that I had stumbled upon the legendary place where tube socks and car parts came to die. Wandering the sad wet drive-in parking lot where blue plastic tarps protected doubtful treasures, I speculated that no item offered for sale had any physical property that would preclude it from being unmarred and unaltered in a landfill several centuries from now—rain had no power with this inventory.

Those who frequent yard sales, swap meets and dubious estate sales, know there is no shame in driving hours only to leave in seconds; there’s always the chance of striking chachka gold. As I made a beeline for my pickup and the nearest espresso stand, a pair of curious objects caught my eye after catching my boot. Rusty and proud, the artful duo possessed a quiet dignity and simple elegance that belied the origins of their fanciful reincarnation; they were train rails cut and forged into andirons — hammered treble clefs for the working man.

For one ten dollar bill and a couple of short-lived arm curls, the andirons were mine. The walk to my truck made me a true believer that their inherent heft was well suited to bear the weight of a 20-ton locomotive. I brought them home to my urban cottage, a wood frame box too pragmatic for the pretensions of a craftsman hearth. An exposed brick wall marked the carbon trace of a stovepipe’s circle. These andirons would have to wait for a house outfitted with a fireplace. For weeks, before being tucked away under a window seat, they sat on my table, admired, adored and cherished as art forged in the everyday.

In an age where patience is measured in seconds and sound bites, I marvel at a forgotten era when scarcity, determination, skill and need could produce something so beautiful and yet so functional. What it would take to forge a solid train rail in to a swan neck keeper of the flame escapes me.

Close to twenty years later in a farmhouse blessed with two fireplaces and two bulldogs, the andirons have come to rest in a well-charred hearth–loved no less then the day I found them. When I build a fire, I often think of and thank the unknown hands and soul that fashioned a tool so fine and artful that it not only fulfilled its intended use by warming my house, but found additional favor in warming my heart.

Boz and Gracie, though avid art enthusiasts, have a greater appreciation for the andirons’ function.

If Winter Comes, Can Spring Be Far Behind?

Nature

Tom

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December 22, 2008

9

If Winter Comes, Can Spring Be Far Behind?

I thought the last line in Shelley’s Ode to the West Wind, a fitting title and tribute to the contrast in seasons as viewed from my back porch; in essence, what we have to enjoy, and what we have to look forward to in the coming months.

Vashon snow covered maple — A bigleaf maple dons its winter white, December 22, 2008

Vashon bigleaf maple in a sea of bluebells — The same bigleaf maple trades snow-laden branches for sleeves of moss and the company of spring’s first bluebells.

Call of the Wild: Bulldogs Need Not Apply

Tom

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December 21, 2008

2

The kind of snow reserved for and measured by terms like ”once every 50 years” has insinuated itself upon my doorstep– a doorstep usually protected by a covered porch that extends 8 feet in width by 24 feet in length. At first, Gracie (above left) and Boz are not so sure what to make of this cold carpet of icy white. The next frame quickly answers the question: note there’s only one set of paw prints and those reveal a very short round trip that ended in reconsideration.

The Spirit of Christmas Drives a Pickup

Christmas

Tom

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December 20, 2008

7

Each year I wonder if, when, or where I’ll cross paths with the spirit of Christmas.

Perhaps in a person, sometimes in a moment, always when I least expect it, the spirit of the season will reveal itself. Usually as an observer, a bystander to generosity, whimsy or a simple act of kindness, I tuck the memory away like a fondly held Christmas card. But this year the spirit had a more direct approach, arriving early and in a pickup truck.

Last Sunday, as Boz & Gracie lured me downstairs with their ramped up barks, I could see a tall constitution of a man peering through my front door window. A friendly smile told me it was my neighbor, Dan.

You see, I’m chainsaw-challenged and most of my firewood is green and not split. Dan, a keen observer and a man of few words, pointed to the dry, split firewood in his pickup and said, “Merry Christmas, Tom.”

The spirit of Christmas overwhelms quickly and tends to leave its beneficiary tongue-tied. Add a bundle of pencil-thick kindling to the mix, and I am without words.

Yes, the spirit of Christmas knocked on my door that day, and in the process reminded me that it’s a regular visitor.

Toasty toes and pampered paws enjoy a fireside warm-up.

A Winter Guest Is Obliged to Stay

Nature

Tom

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December 15, 2008

3

Morning light meets last night’s snow

Last night as I returned home from the south end of the island, the snow was falling with a grace and magic usually reserved for the dreams of my sleeping hours. Flakes as large as feathers erased the sounds of man. The ferns and fir bent gently in their new attire. I walked back to my truck grateful that our Pacific rains had abandoned their scheduled departure long enough to embrace an an arctic downdraft from British Columbia. It’s a collision that’s rare on the coast, but one that leaves those blanketed in its aftermath, smiling.

Planting Perfume: Fragrant Plants You Won’t Forget

Plants I Love

Tom

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December 5, 2008

4

Planting Perfume: Fragrant Plants You Won’t Forget

Fragrance plays a magical role in the garden; it transforms a fleeting moment in time to a lifelong memory, an invisible touchstone to a place, person, or celebration. The potency of its spell is rarely diluted or weakened; instead the delicious scent rests in your mind, awaiting to be awakened when a simple step forward can send you countless steps backward. The perfume of nature is a potent time machine. Plant something fragrant in your garden, capture your corner of the world in a corner of your mind.

Mock Orange a Memory Makes

Here’s a list of some of my favorite fragrant plants:

Philadelphus: spring blooming native Northwest shrub (lewesii), a.k.a. mock orange
Clethra alnifolia: late summer bloom, a.k.a. summersweet, nice billowy shrub, yellow fall color
Oriental Lily: late summer showstopper, easy to grow, gets better every year
Gardenia: one of the toughest plants to grow but “frostproof” is a promising variety for northern climes
Roses: the fragrance of legends (old garden roses and David Austin’s especially fragrant) Abraham Darby, Madame Alfred Carriere, Golden Celebration, Evelyn, Sombriel,
Acidanthera: Abyssian lily, a tender corm producing gladiola-like leaves and heady delicate blossoms in late summer.
Honeysuckle: an old garden favorite that seems indestructible and in some places can be invasive depending on variety.
Lavender: bees love them, people too, need good drainage and good sun
Marigolds: out of favor for some, but for me a childhood favorite, they’re the smell of summer
Chinese Wisteria: The dreamiest vines in my garden, keep them low to prune hard for better blooming. (Cooke’s Special is a real standout.)
Spearmint: a must for ice tea and its rakish cousin, the julep
Clematis armandii: wonderful evergreen vine that’s blooms in early spring in a blanket of white, seems almost tropical.
Violets: Viola Odorata, a very early, unassuming spring bloomer with one of my favorites perfumes

Bulldogs Bothered and Bewildered
Dust mop takes non-sporting group

Tom

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November 28, 2008

6

Boz & Gracie on the porch Bulldogs

Boz and Gracie, a bit out of sorts since their brethren’s recent public slight

It’s the morning after Thanksgiving, the Friday that can’t be mentioned without the word ‘shopping’ in tow. The only shopping this man will be doing is for antacids and ginger ale at the corner store. On another front, one that has left Boz, Gracie and me inconsolable, it’s also the day after the National Dog Show, where the judges’ judgment was also on holiday.

(Are you sitting down?) The Lhasa Apso was selected over the Bulldog in the non-sporting dog group. So far, bacon bits, giblets, bum rubs, and reassurance have done little to assuage their personal takes on the slight. I’ve tried to explain (unsuccessfully) that as with all beauty pageants, the beauty is always in the eye of the beholder. Unfortunately, in this case, the beholders were a bit out of focus.

Decide for yourself (wise readers), view National Dog Show footage on MSNBC of the Bulldog and uh, the Lhasa Apso.

Pick a Pumpkin, Make a Pie

Recipes

Tom

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November 24, 2008

31

Canned Pumpkin Is Good, Too! The Goal Is Pie!

baked sugar pumpkins — I like small sugar pumpkins or Winter Luxury Pie pumpkins for my pumpkin pie; but make no mistake, canned pumpkin is a great option, too, if you don’t have the pumpkins or the time to bake them.

How to Make a Pumpkin Pie from Scratch Using Fresh Pumpkin

I made my first fresh pumpkin pie of the season, entering it in the Vashon Farmers Market annual pumpkin pie contest. I placed third, an admirable ranking considering the winner was a cheesecake and received bonus points for using homegrown ingredients in addition to pumpkin, i.e., cream, eggs and butter. (Note to self: buy a cow.)

It was a fun event and samples of each pie sold for $1 a slice to raise money for the market and I did some serious damage to my cache of cash. I may have come in third but this pie is first rate.

Fresh Pumpkin Pie Recipe (makes 2 pies)

No Fail Pie Crust

1/2 cup shortening
1/2 cup butter
3 cups sifted flour
1 tsp salt
1 egg
5 tbsp water
1 tbsp. vinegar

Cut butter and shortening into flour and salt.
Combine egg, water and vinegar.
Pour liquids into the flour mixture and mix with a fork or slowly in mixer.
Combine into ball, refrigerate for an hour.
Roll, place in pie dish, add filling. This makes 2 crusts.

Fresh Pumpkin Puree

One 3-5 pound sugar pumpkin or winter squash (Galeux d’Eysines)

cut pumpkin into slices (like an apple)
remove seeds
roast in over at 350 degrees until soft
cool
scoop out pulp leaving rind behind
puree pulp in mixer or food processor until smooth
should look like orange mashed potatoes

Fresh Pumpkin Pie Filling and Assembly for 2 Pies

2/3 cup sugar
2/3 cup brown sugar
2 tablespoons all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
2 pounds fresh pumpkin puree
2 tablespoons molasses (real maple syrup is nice too)
3 large eggs
1 cup whipping cream (half and half works, too)

Place baking sheet in oven and preheat to 425°.
Whisk first 8 ingredients together in large bowl to blend.
Whisk in pumpkin, molasses and eggs, then cream.
Pour mixture into pie dough in pie plate.
Place pie on preheated baking sheet in oven.
Bake 15 minutes.
Reduce heat to 325°F and bake until sides puff and center is just set (40-60 minutes).
Cool.
Makes 2 pies.

I adapted this recipe from Epicurious.com’s Spiced Pumpkin Pie Recipe. And I had enough dough and filling to make one pie and one tart; same pie in a different guise.

Upgraded traditional pumpkin pie — Pie 1: an upgraded traditional pumpkin pie

Pie 2 made in a French tart style in honor of its puree from a French pumpkin, Galeux d'Eysines — Pie 2: in a tart pan in honor of its puree from a French pumpkin, Galeux d’Eysines

Ah! on Thanksgiving day….
When the care-wearied man seeks his mother once more,
And the worn matron smiles where the girl smiled before.
What moistens the lips and what brightens the eye?
What calls back the past, like the rich pumpkin pie?
~John Greenleaf Whittier

Galeux d’Eysines Pumpkin: You Had Me at Hello

Growing Vegetables

Tom

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November 22, 2008

5

Galeux d’Eysines Pumpkin: You Had Me at Hello

galeux d'eysines winter squash — Galeux d’Eysines pumpkin: uniquely warty, wonderfully tasty

I’m not sure when I first fell in love with growing things. It’s a fascination I can’t recall not having. Of all the things I’ve grown or now grow, pumpkins seem the most magical to me. A teardrop-shaped seed the size of a thumbnail erupts from the earth with a forthright posture that says this sprout has a lot of ground to cover in the 90 days. Make way!

I suspect if I secured a lawn chair, tumbler of ice tea and enough patience to sit a while, I could witness the vine emerge and wend from compost mound to neighboring furrow like a tendrilled snake. It surely seems that pumpkins grow before your eyes.

The pumpkin pictured above is a Galeux d’Eysines ( Cucurbita maxima ). Some call it a wart pumpkin or ‘bumpkin’ because its beautiful buckskin-colored skin is covered with bumpy warts or calluses. The quirkiness of what’s on the outside belies the beauty of what you find on the inside (just like people): firm, flavorful, non-stringy pumpkiny goodness. I’ve chosen this pumpkin for my pie entry in the local farmers market pie baking contest (Vashon Island Growers Association -www.vashonviga.org). Any way you slice it, this pumpkin is a winner in or out of a pie. Stay tuned, I’ll let you know how I fared.

Seed source: Baker CreekHeirloom Seeds

Roasted Galeux d'Eysines pumpkin — Galeux d’Eysines pumpkin (aka winter squash) roasted and ready for pie, soup or a side dish.

I love this pumpkin, warts and all!