Skip to content

homestead happenings: ordinary (good) life

August 23, 2012

Col enters my room at 6:45 am, palming an empty beer bottle he filched from the recycling bin.

“I’m ready for an experiment (pronounced “es-peerment),” he announces. Rose follows him in and crawls into my bed. “Can you tell me all the options for breakfast?” she asks (as if we have a breakfast menu).

“Can we all just snuggle for awhile before anyone starts asking for stuff?” I beg them.

The kids lean into me, one on each side. This lasts for 45 seconds before their hands find each other across the soft sand dunes of my body and start pushing at each other. “Guys!” I shout, my tank of creativity on low both at the very start and the very end of the day.

“Can we read the next chapter of The Horse and His Boy and can I have some cherry berry tea with breakfast?” Rose asks all in one breath.

“I’m gonna need some vinegar and baking soda. And a bottle cap.” Col informs me.

I’m so slow in the morning, I can’t even find the right channels to process their words. I just want to savor these warm little bodies and run my hands across their growing heads, in a cocoon of sweet denial, as if this were all that were required of us today.

The next time I find them I’m caffeinated and dressed. They’re hustling between the bathroom sink and their bedroom, no longer contenders for my attention; now collaborators in repurposing various bottles from the recycling bin, which they fill with watercolor paint and water. I can feel the dual notions: watercolors are for painting *and* this is going to end in a terrible mess, tap me on the shoulder. I ignore them and exclaim over the “orange juice” mixed up in the empty Drano bottle.

On the homestead:

:: Just like that the peaches are done. So done, that not only is there no longer a towel amassed with ripening peaches on our bedroom floor, but there isn’t even a single wrinkled peach lying fuzzily around on the kitchen counter. It’s like those days when my children were little and I felt like I’d spend the rest of my life scanning for chokeables and slapping magnets back on the fridge after someone batted them off with Frankensteinian-toddler hands. Except it doesn’t really last forever.

The last peachy thing I made was a batch of Vanilla Bean Peach Butter (fancy enough to be capitalized), which is exotic and expensive enough that if you end up tasting some at our house please remark on how you can actually taste the vanilla.

Not earwig poop, but real $20/ounce vanilla bean seeds!

Vanilla Bean Peach Butter Recipe

Pit and quarter (don’t bother peeling, peels will disintegrate into the loveliness of the peachy color) 20 or so peaches. Scrape the seeds of 2 vanilla bean pods into the peach butter and chop the remaining pods into 1″ pieces and drop into peach butter. Simmer and stir for 2-4 hours (the longer you simmer, the more concentrated, thick and naturally sweet the jam becomes). Add 1/2 – 1 cup honey. Pull out vanilla bean pods and process in Water Bath Canner for 2o minutes, or 35 minutes at 6512 feet.

:: My parents just arrived for a 2 month (2 months!) stay in Durango, where they find regular and refreshing hilarity in the kids’ kidness.

My mom asked me yesterday, “do you just laugh all day long?” 

:: I hosted 45 people in my backyard last weekend for the 6th annual Tour de Farms, an event where people bike around town to see different homesteads. I espoused on edible weeds and the joys of hand-watering and didn’t even once mention pee-fertilizer.

Rose changed 6 times that day, settling on the purple, velour leotard for the tour. 

I heard later from the director of the tour that women were snapping photos of the root cellar on their phones and texting husbands with, “can you build this for me?” Apparently Dan has raised the bar for Durango men. Sorry about that; he’s sort of driven.

:: Every time I gaze down into the root cellar, I am amazed. For the span of this project I’ve been focusing on place to store apples and Dan’s root-cellar physique (I had to check in with Dan recently, making sure he didn’t feel objectified or anything. He assured me he didn’t; he’s good that way), while Dan’s been doing the heavy mental lifting of engineering and physics.

The full truth is that Dan has been toiling in the root cellar like a Wall St. exec, working late into the night by headlamp and reviewing plans in bed. Everyday that he’s not at work, he’s in the hole. We cancelled what would have been our 4th annual Lizard Head camping trip (2nd here, 3rd here) due to peaches and root cellar.

Dan’s happy in there. It’s kind of like the grown up version of piecing together legos.

One of three niches to hold gallon jars.

I missed it when Dan and Jojo laid the lintel, which weighs more than the two of them together. When I asked them how they lowered it 5 feet down into the root cellar, they smiled and said, “tips from our ancient Egyptian ancestors.”

The lintel.

:: Zach (boyfriend of downstairs summer resident) taught Col to play chess last week, which Col loved in that way that I suspect had 75% to do with this nice guy who was not his parent taking interest in him and 25% to do with the game itself.

I’d overhear Zach reminding Col, “now are you sure you want to make *that* move?” So kind.

:: Dan has been a steady acorn assembly line: picking, shelling, grinding and mixing into waffle batter.

“This is wealth; think of the calories,” Dan says. And think of the acorn worms slithering across our floor, which become exotic treats for the chickens. Also, this is the year that I am no longer bugged out by fruit flies who kept a steady vigil on the over-ripe peaches. Last year was the year I got over aphid-phobia.

Acorn waffle batter.

Dan and I celebrated our 10-year wedding anniversary last weekend. We didn’t actually get any date-time, but we ate huge acorn-waffle breakfasts topped with peach sauce; we cracked early beers and served peach bbq deer roast with garden veggies for dinner; we romped in the garden and the root cellar; we played an ear-splitting game of yahtzee with the kids (dice on tile at 9pm – aaahgh). All of which looks a little like ordinary life, which as you know, is a good life. As Dan said, “it’s an ongoing celebration.”

(Had we gotten a babysitter and gone out, I would have enjoyed the hell out of that too).



PS: Col got to do his vinegar/baking soda/beer bottle espeerment, take 1, 2, 3 and 4.

21 Comments leave one →
  1. August 23, 2012 9:26 am

    So many beautiful things! It’s especially exciting that you were able to show off your backyard on the Tour de Farms! (And Rose’s outfit for the tour was definitely a winner! So precious!)

  2. Mamie tkd permalink
    August 23, 2012 9:30 am

    Happy 10th anniversary, Rachel and Dan. A night out would have been nice but I love the way you spent the day, from beginning to end, celebrating what gives such substance to your lives.

  3. August 23, 2012 12:24 pm

    Happy belated anniversary! The tour looks great and I must say, the purple leotard is the perfect attire. Glad you got your peaches put up. The recipe sounds divine. And yes, Dan has definitely set the bar on the root cellar.

  4. August 23, 2012 12:35 pm

    I love you guys. In a non-creepy way. I promise. I love Rose’s outfits, your family’s love of things simple and precious and the way you embrace the goodness that oozes out a life lived fully. Sigh. And Happy Anniversary. You guys are clearly doing it right.

  5. Dan permalink
    August 23, 2012 1:52 pm

    Yea, I love you so much, and always have fun and giggles visiting your work here! Smoooch! Dan

  6. August 23, 2012 7:31 pm

    Happy Anniversary! This is my favorite new quote on life: “it’s an ongoing celebration.” Awesome.

    I’m glad to hear I’m not the only one who hits her mothering low first thing in the morning.

  7. Nasha permalink
    August 23, 2012 8:09 pm

    Rachel et al,
    I am always blown away by the magic of your words and the smile firmly planted on my face after reading them! Thanks for all the delicious lil’ word morsels you deliver! Happy Anniversary!

  8. August 23, 2012 11:18 pm

    i’m sorry. i didn’t catch the rest of the post. i was stopped by the perfect ordinary glory of you and rose presenting your homestead, as you explained and rose supervised like the leotard boss that she is. happy aniversary!

  9. August 23, 2012 11:20 pm

    anniversary with two “n”s.

    also, just in case you’d like to again this year?

  10. August 24, 2012 6:44 am

    happy ten years!

  11. August 24, 2012 8:38 am

    Our peaches are *almost* done. Little tiny ones.

    Happy Anniversary Rachel and Dan! xo

  12. August 24, 2012 3:10 pm

    Wish we lived closer to you guys so we too could take the farm tour and learn about the wild edibles. Happy Anniversary!!!

  13. Brigid permalink
    August 25, 2012 7:35 am

    Saw a foreshadow of a teenage Rose. Pretty in her red dress. love your joy

  14. Sara permalink
    August 25, 2012 2:52 pm

    Love that you don’t skin peaches and curious about the acorn batter

  15. Barb permalink
    August 25, 2012 3:41 pm

    Leotard boss (above) haha, I love that. Rose looks SO old and grown up in the second pic. And yes, belated Happy Anniversary! I remember the fun times of your wedding days – Dan’s Aunt Roberta and I had a glorious day out at Mesa Verde, among other things. Good family times!! Can’t believe it’s 10 years (though John and I just celebrated #27 a week ago!).

  16. Kelly permalink
    August 27, 2012 6:44 am

    Happy Annie! So sad to find out just now about the farm tour. I live in DRO but never heard about it.

    • Rachel Turiel permalink*
      August 29, 2012 10:32 pm

      Darn. They don’t seem to advertise hugely, and it does fill up every year. But, you know, you can just come by someday.

  17. Kelly permalink
    August 27, 2012 6:49 am

    Oh and I am looking for a upick place for apples, peaches, pears, walnuts, apricots, or whatever other yum stuff. Know anyone with too many trees and not enough jars?

  18. September 3, 2012 10:34 am

    Happy Anniversary — you guys are still celebrating, right? :)

    What a wondrous ten years, I am wishing you many more!!


  19. September 7, 2012 4:01 pm

    alright! col and quinn will have to have a chess tournament when they meet someday. the root cellar is looking amazing. so is the peach butter! yummy! and happy 10th anniversary! xoxoxo

  20. September 24, 2012 7:26 pm

    That peach butter sounds so ridiculously, fabulously good!

Thanks for taking the time to leave a comment. I love hearing from you.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s