Thanksgiving on the Farm

In the past, I've wondered why Thanksgiving, a harvest festival, is held a month or two after the garden has frozen and there's not much fresh food to be had, other than the turkey. This year was different. With a late start, the garden was not in full production until September. Our usual mid-September frost did not happen and the weather stayed pleasant until shortly before Thanksgiving. Thus we had for our harvest meal: carrot raisin salad with carrots freshly dug (although I had to pour warm water on the soil to thaw it before digging the carrots), potatoes unearthed shortly before the ground froze, squash and pumpkin pie from Hubbard Squash newly harvested, dressing made with herbs picked fresh that morning from the garden (parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme).

Friends Barb and Mark brought more pies and salads... and a dragon, Barb's latest creation for Portland's Christmas Revels. Steve and Munazza brought our grandsons Kestrel and Cedrus (not to eat, just to enjoy). 3 1/2 year old Kestrel was not amused, although the rest of us were, when his father appeared to nearly become food for the dragon.




Johnny believes you have to work off all that Thanksgiving dinner, so he put the wee boys to work. Never too young to haul in firewood, Johnny says.


That was fun for awhile, but more fun was climbing the ladder to the loft of the new goat barn under construction...



And feeding comfrey leaves to goats, gathering eggs, and throwing seed out for the birds. The California Quail were very appreciative.




Hikes are mandatory on our farm so, besides the usual Fink Family Farm arboretum tour, we took a short drive to the newly reopened Yoncalla Falls trail. At 1 1/2 years old, Cedrus could only take so much of this exhaustive farm life: he went on strike. Steve had come prepared with a stroller. This was not a trail designed for strollers, but it worked. (So did Steve.) Kestrel was a trooper and hiked the whole trail up and back: he loves bushwhacking. The waterfall at the end of the hike made all that work worthwhile. (Well, only if Mom was holding him, as far as Cedrus was concerned.)










Kids... and parents... and grandparents (whew!) need to sleep after all that activity.

What could be cuter than Kestrel in his skeleton jammies and Cedrus in his snowman jammies?






Thanksgiving 2010 was a harvest of garden goodies and happy memories. And now to rest up...

Snow!

Sunday it seemed as though everyone except us was getting snow. We could see it in the hills above us, but all we had was cold rain and wind. Ugh. So we drove up into the hills to enjoy the first snowfall of the season. We didn't have to go far.... but we went a little too far for our truck with no traction devices and had to back down the slippery mountain road.

Back a bit lower in the no-snow zone, we found that the trail to Yoncalla Falls was open again after having been thoroughly blocked by downed trees for the last two years. Hooray for the hardy souls who cleared it.. no doubt a work crew from the Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde, who are gradually making a trail all the way from Grand Ronde to the coast. We did not hike across Yoncalla Creek to the upper falls on Boulder Creek, but we could see it from the road now that the leaves are gone.






On Monday the higher elevations and higher latitudes (like Seattle) were having blizzard conditions. We were having cold rain and wind. But before I went out to do evening chores, the rain had turned to snow. Hooray!

I was not so thrilled when I went outside. It was snowing horizontally... very wet and very cold. Soon the snow turned to snow pellets travelling sideways about 40 mph... painful as they peppered my face. This was not what I had in mind when I was wishing for snow.

By Tuesday morning (today) the brutal snow pellets had changed to lovely snowflakes drifting slowly down as snowflakes should. Only about an inch of snow was on the ground but that was enough to make things pretty. Much of the snow melted today in the areas not shaded, although light snow showers continued off and on. The shady woods were still lovely this afternoon, though, with nature's artworks everywhere.




Agency Creek was a deep chilly blue and running full. But not as full as it will be in the spring, after the snow above us melts.

The dogs accompanied me on my woodland walk of course. This moss and fern covered stump looked like a howling dog to me, but Shirley and McCoy didn't think so.














We usually wonder if we'll have a white Christmas. This year I wonder if we'll have a white Thanksgiving.

Valentine's Day Hike

Yesterday, Feb. 14, we headed for the hills again, this time to hike a segment of the old Tillamook trail. The Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde are gradually restoring this foot trail that was used by coast Indians before white settlers arrived in the area. The Tillamook area tribe walked inland to spend the winter in a valley near what is now Willamina. Apparently, salmon had a resting spot in Willamina creek and provided food for the wintering tribe. At least, that's the story from a pioneer researcher in the area.

We are not yet sure where the Confederated Tribes will have their trail start and end, but we have hiked a few short segments thus far. The plan is to have the trail go all the way to the coast. The young adult work crew we met last year said the intention is to make it usable for hiking and horseback riding. I am eager to ride that trail when it is ready! Sure would beat charging through the underbrush like Mr. Smith and I do now.



Since the segment we hiked yesterday was quite short, we walked across the road and hiked down a trail to a couple of waterfalls, only one of which we could get to because of downed trees and landslides. Near the falls big Douglas Firs have survived logging, Johnny estimated, for one to two hundred years. We don't often see Doug firs this big anymore.





We explored roads on our way home, finding our way from the falls and Tillamook Trail segment on Yoncalla/Boulder Creek road via Wind River to Spirit Mountain (this is a polite way of saying we didn't know where we were going but somehow made it home). We passed Western Bluebirds flitting about in an old clearcut full of snags. We'll come back in the spring to see if they nest in those snags (presuming we can find that area again).

The forested vistas from the road around Spirit Mountain went on forever, with spectacular cloud formations adding to the beauty.


Near home, Johnny dropped me off at the head of the elusive trail through the woods that Mr. Smith and I had not found on Bad Horse Day. I hiked down through salal, ferns and firs and discovered where the "trail" (using the term loosely) comes out on the old/new logging road below. Next time I ride that road, I'll know where to direct my rambunctious, hill climbing horse. A Pygmy Owl tooted as I neared the logging road, but I could never see where it was calling from.

A nice way to spend Valentine's Day on the weekend of our 43rd wedding anniversary.