Our Cinderella Pumpkin and Hallowe'en

On one of our September visits to Orchard Hill Farm, along with the usual selection of wonderful veggies, fruits, herbs and flowers, we were told we could help ourselves to some brilliantly coloured Indian corn and a pumpkin.

Now, I'm not talking about a Charlie Brown's pumpkin patch kind of pumpkin. I'm talking about a full spectrum of shapes and sizes from tall and slender to wide and squat, some with deep ridges and some almost completely smooth, and colours ranging from creamy white to deep, deep scarlet. I must have been standing there looking like I'd just moved from the big city because Michelle approached to recommend what she felt was the most beautiful variety;
the Rouge Vif d'Estampes, or Cinderella Pumpkin.

The Rouge Vif d'Estampes "is deep red-orange, flattened, heavily sutured and was the prototype for Cinderella's carriage pumpkin". I had to agree, it really was the most incredible looking pumpkin I have ever seen. We put it, and the corn, in our front room to enjoy.

Fast forward two months ...

Recently, while visiting Martha and Ken at the farm, I noticed what looked like a pumpkin which had been dropped from a ladder, sitting squashed on a baking sheet. When I asked what had happened, Martha explained she had simply baked her entire pumpkin in the oven (pricked a few times to let the air escape) and a piece of which was the base of the soup we had just eaten (which was really yummy). So, after we had enjoyed looking at our beautiful scarlet pumpkin for as long as we could (until November 17, in fact), I put the whole thing on a sheet and baked it at 250f until it collapsed (about an hour).
A word of caution; these babies hold a lot of moisture, so prick your vents towards the top and expect alot of juice when you slice into it, after it cools.

As for Hallowe'en, apart from one suspicious character offering to do some cheap home repairs, our first ever real Trick 'r Treater came in the form of a very scary skeleton.

Our other, run-of-the-mill, carved pumpkin may well have survived the ride home from the store on Robin's bike and a fall off the make-shift window display table, but the morning after Hallowe'en, somebody enjoyed kicking it down the street.

At least we didn't get egged!

Our new (middle-aged) son

Yesterday, following a whirlwind of interviews and test “walkies”, we brought home our new son, Frankie, from Barkin Rescue.

He’s 8, which is slightly shy of middle-age for a poodle, even tempered, calm and cute as a lamb.

Let the sun shine in

Now that our trees have shed most of their leaves and the days are slowly getting colder, we've removed the trellis roof of our deck and our dining room now receives hours of warming sunshine (most days). We've hung a bird feeder (thanks Dad) right outside the window we dine at, affording us full views of our feathered neighbours. So far we regularly have sparrows, chickadees, nuthatches and cardinals. We also have a Dad-made platform which holds whole corn cobs for the blue jays and squirrels.

We have a finch feeder loaded with Nyjer seed (thanks to you-know-who) attracting house finches (no Goldfinches yet) and a suet feeder which so far is only attracting a Downey Woodpecker. Above the main feeder, Robin placed branches pruned off our Rose of Sharon bush to give some cover for feeding birds that might look yummy to passing hawks and, as the deck is raised, those feeding on the seeds that fall (like our juncos) are offered some protection from the local cat (until I can convince it's owner to put a bell on it's collar).

We're in the process of extending a heating vent from our furnace to help warm the room in the morning and evening, when the sun is too low, and we'll soon be insulating the crawlspace below.
In the meantime, it's warm socks and long-sleeves for me (I'm always hot anyways) and warm socks and an anorak for Robin (who'd wear a sweater at the beach).

It's all worth it to feel the glorious warmth of the sun while we're eating our breakie.

And, speaking of our pals ...

Our great friend Joanne was one of a small group of Native Elders invited to meet the Dalai Lama in Toronto. There are great pics on Joanne's blog and you can see her grandson Zachaire receiving a blessing. Zach seems as joyful as His Holiness! Joanne's daughter Tammy was lucky to be taking the pictures and therefore was able to enjoy it all, first-hand. You can learn more about Joanne and her work on her website, Healing Works.

Joanne, Tammy and Zachaire travelled to St. Thomas in September so that we could meet Zach who was born not long after we moved.

While here, Tammy helped me not burn our dinner on our new BBQ, which I had never used. I had received a crash course the previous week from friends Soo and Scott who had also come for a visit (they were horrified that I thought I needed to douse the charcoal with fuel in order to start the fire), but my new skills had never been put to the test. I stacked the bits of cardboard, newspaper and briquettes as per my training and everything went ahead tickety-boo. Well, we did loose a few bits of sliced veg but I perfer to think of that as seasoning the flame.

Omega - the new Snake Oil?

Here’s my conflict …

Fact 1; World fish stocks are depleted, due largely to over-fishing (not exactly news, though it doesn’t appear to be sinking in).

Fact 2: Omega 3 fats are the worlds leading supplement, and the cheapest, most popular source is from fish.

Hmmm … see any problems?

Like the bottled-water industry, we’ve fallen for the whole Omega snow- job, hook, line and sinker (pardon the pun).

Now I’m not saying Omega 3 fatty acids aren’t an important consideration; quite the contrary …
- Canada Food Guide recommends at least two Food Guide Servings (75 grams each) of fish each week.
- America's National Institute of Health recommends 650 mg of EPA and DHA daily.
- American Heart Association recommends eating a variety of types of fatty fish at least twice a week. Those with heart disease should get 1 gram of omega-3s (containing both EPA and DHA) per day, preferably from fatty fish.

But the Omega madness isn’t about people popping a couple capsules every morning. I’m talking about huge companies that McManufacture breakfast cereal, soy milk beverages, fortified eggs, freezer waffles, orange juice, yogurt. It’s a huge list of products growing daily; soon we’ll see PC Tuna, fortified with fish oil!
As well, there’s still some uncertainty whether our bodies can effectively convert the fat from non-fish sources (flax, nuts) into usable acids and, if so, how much do we actually absorb, so again, fish is our best choice. I know PC, Natrickso, Queldogs and everyone else are just using my fear of cancer and heart disease to lure me into purchasing their omega fortified cheese and flax nachos, but since we try not to purchase any food with more than five ingredients, we’re not buying their stuff anyways.
And, I don’t eat fish, so what’s a boy to do?

Well, recently while listening to BBC radio (via their website) I heard an interview with a man from Switzerland who was promoting a Vegan Omega 3 (Water4life). He claimed that the reason fish had this Omega 3 in their fat was because of the algae they consumed. His point was to go to the primary, sustainable source for a better product, and stop depleting fish stocks further. My first instinct was that this was too simple a solution; harvest the oil from a sustainable plant rather than an endangered living creature. But my research confirmed his claim and one such product is even available in little St. Thomas!


So the omega-hucksters can keep their fortified puffed rice cereal and their “healthy” toaster tarts. I’m gunna make like a fish and eat pond scum, and sleep a bit better for it.

Busy gal

Our pal Emily (you remember … pretty brunette, studio shop in Toronto’s Distillery District, master embroiderer, mother to super-cute Claire and wife to brainiac Mike), is right in the eye of the storm; the storm called Christmas.

Firstly, she’s re-invented her previously pretty-smart website (www.emilyhamill.com) into one which more closely resembles her work; sophisticated, integral, honest. She is, after all, the real thing; an artisan.

Then, she’s been profiled in November’s Canadian House and Home Magazine (a full page called Style Files – look for the cute pic!).

And now she’s full-steam-ahead prepping to Toronto’s huge Christmas One-Of-A-Kind show. I’ve also heard from a reliable source that little Claire was decked out as Max (from Where the Wild Things Are) for Hallowe’en, courtesy of Emily’s talented tailoring.

And what’s next for our stitching vixen? Stay tuned …

Measure twice ...

We’ve recently been concerned about the sudden appearance of “bumps” on our cat Buster’s throat. They felt like blisters or hives, seem to slowly come and go, and had begun to increase in size. After a couple of weeks, we asked S-I-L Dana for some advice. She said it appeared to be an allergic reaction – possibly to the new cat food we had begun introducing Buster to, a few weeks prior. We immediately began to switch her back to the previous food (which she preferred anyway due to it’s higher fat content).

But once we heard the word “reaction” we began to seriously consider another concern we had; the state of our newly painted basement floor. When we moved-in, the basement was completely unfinished and it had been recommended to us that we seal it with masonry paint, to help ward off dampness. After further consultation at our local Home Hardware store, we did exactly that; a rather big, very stinky job of painting four walls and the floor. The basement did indeed seem drier and looked much better. A number of weeks ago, the paint began to disintegrate in high traffic areas (such as there is “high traffic” in a two person house) and we noticed we occasionally tracked fine dust upstairs into the main floor. Could this be Buster’s allergen? We re-read the volumes of text on the left-over, half-full can of paint (can 5 or 6 I believe) and it indeed said “Not for use on floors”. Unwilling to take any chances, we’ve begun scrubbing, with water and a couple of wire brushes, the entire basement floor. For the dozenth time, we learned the old carpenter’s lesson; “measure twice, cut once”. We should have read everything two times (or once, very carefully) as the removal is more than twice the job of painting.

As for Buster, she’s healing nicely, due to whatever irritant we’ve removed, and to the fact of Robin playing pet nurse twice a day, cleaning, medicating and drying her throat. Fingers-crossed we haven’t made any other such mistakes, or will make any such mistakes again.