That’s my (legendary?) Buck-mug, which I took with Buck‘s permission from his grill and diner in Burwell way back in the mists of time.
Up here in the middle of nowhere, we are using a French press (aka plunger pot). The coffee that is slightly more mellow with our home drip machine tastes a bit edgy here, but I’m getting used to that. Yes, along with the extra steps it takes to rinse the grounds off the press-parts out by the long grass (aka substitute for a compost pile).
Posted at 10:22 PM |
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Good thing I did this yesterday; it’s all rainy today. The Guru and I walked from tree to tree in the upper orchard area, tasting apples and picking a few here and there for the applesauce. Some cooked to mush and some didn’t. Too bad I didn’t keep track for pie-making….
My sense is the apples had better size, and less scab this year. And less icky problem areas that had to be cut away before cooking, in general.
Is this an effect of climate change? Har.
Posted at 12:02 PM |
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It’s all too easy to lose tools in the grass. I’m trying tree-hanging to keep them visible. Not gonna lose these gloves, though.
We worked on the downed cherry. Chain saws get my anxiety levels up. Soooo dangerous.
Posted at 10:22 PM |
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Sunny; mostly. Windy, more and more.
Lots of mature-tree issues. Sigh.
The little stuff, like this mushroom and its sentinel bivalve shell, seems to be fine. Whew.
Posted at 2:20 PM |
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