Barn Rules

Well, it has happened. I've missed my first every-other-Sunday posting deadline! I have been writing, but all I've got is about 5 topics in draft mode. What have I been writing about?  Rhubarb. Barn swallows. Kittens. Woodchucks. The quest for the perfect cup of coffee. Guests. Is it spring fever? More likely my brain is otherwise occupied with work (yes, my other job) on top of the regular coordination of laundry, preparing for guests, cleaning, baking, and having some fun time in between. All winter we make lists of projects, then good weather arrives and we have to cram it all in at once. We never sit down. And when we do, we fall asleep!

Here is some food for thought until I get my act together, that is, until I finish a story.  Someone gave me this list of BARN RULES right after we moved in, and I think they are as applicable to life as the Golden Rule:

BARN RULES:
If you open it, close it

If you turn it on, turn it off

If you unlock it, lock it

If you break it, admit it

If you can't fix it, call in someone who can

If you borrow it, return it

If you make a mess, clean it up

If you use it, take care of it

If you move it, put it back

If it belongs to someone else, get permission to use it

If you don't know how to operate it, leave it alone

If it is not broken, don't fix it

If it will brighten someone's day, say it

If you fall off, get back on.

There. I'm "back on" schedule.  See you in two weeks!

Our Country Kitchen

I confess:  I love cooking in a large country kitchen.  Our kitchen has 25 cupboards, 14 drawers, 2 closets, and 9 doors. It also has the original 1880's pantry, providing us with an additional 6 drawers, potato bin, large window, and 7 cupboards--one of which opens on both the pantry side and the dining room side. Very cool.

Both Kevin and I love to cook. He makes most of our meals and breakfast entrees, and I do most of the baking and dish washing. Getting adjusted to this large space was dizzying - literally - and we found ourselves walking in circles and frequently bumping into each other. Sharing the kitchen with your spouse can be pleasingly copacetic, kind of like synchronized swimming, with each having particular specialties, tasks, and timing.  But occasionally the order breaks down and it turns into a scene from Faulty Towers (...Basil!) or Hell's Kitchen (who moved the **bleeping** kitchen shears?). Fortunately, we figured out some things that work well for us, and may also work for you.  

Here's our list:

1) Never walk around the kitchen with a knife pointing outward.  This should seem like a no-brainer, but if your other kitchens were small, then you probably developed some habits that don't transfer into a large space. 
2) Keep all knives sharpened (a sharp knife is a safe knife) and store them in a slotted wooden knife tray in a drawer. Pasquale says "your knifa is lika your besta frienda and no one can hurt you lika your besta frienda."

3) Buy two free-standing paper towel holders so you always have one where and when you need it. 

4) Free yourself:  remove that annoying ring connecting your measuring spoons and cups. Buy a few sets of both and keep them inside the containers of those products you use most often like sugar, flour, popcorn, oatmeal, and pet food. The extras come in handy for multiple ingredient measuring as well.

5)  Keep the counter tops and flat surfaces clear of appliances and decorative items. Anything that does not get used every day does not belong on the counter.

6) Don't store anything in the cupboards above the stove. Ever.  

7) By all means, keep the kitchen shears IN THE KITCHEN and tools in the toolbox!

Another feature of our kitchen is a well-lit corner space next to the laundry room where I do the ironing. I love the feel of a starched napkin or pillowcase and so I toil to provide this small amenity. Last week I discovered I could make my own spray starch by mixing water and cornstarch, and, well, that just about made my day. Ask Kevin. I was giddy.

Of course, improvements can always be made to the current space. So what's on my wish list for our country kitchen?  It is not an automatic dishwasher - I actually enjoy hand-washing dishes. My dream kitchen would have the oven and the cook top as two separate units. Having to share the gas range causes some tense moments. Bing! There goes the timer. Sweetie, please step aside. I need to get into the oven NOW!!!

Bob's Retirement

Our neighbor has a team of six draft horses that he employs for almost every field job on the farm. And he is rewarded for it.  If you compare a horse-plowed field of alfalfa to one plowed by a conventional tractor, you will find the ground is softer and the alfalfa growing taller in the horse-plowed field, the hooves have turned and aerated the soil while the rubber tires packed it down. And though the baling is slower and more labor intensive, the operation is quieter and creates less air pollution. From a neighbor's point of view, this is a good thing.

Bob, who is about 16 years old, is Elam's favorite horse, and they have been working together for about 10 years. Their relationship is one of mutual respect, this nearly one ton horse built for work and the straw-hatted farmer who depends on him. Bob is a natural leader within the team, dependable and often the hardest worker. When the team is grazing in the pasture, you call Bob and he comes, and the others follow. But, they always allow him to enter the barn first.

But even Bob's discipline goes to the wayside when given the the opportunity to flee. One morning, as I drove past the farm on my way to work, I see the team charging down the driveway towards the road, and I quickly realize they are not harnessed. I stop, and Elam motions me to pull the car into the driveway to block them.  I do it, thinking to myself the insurance company will never believe this if I even live to tell the story. But it works: all six horses turn on a dime, and gallop back to the barn. I am momentarily amazed at their dexterity. I wave, satisfied that all is well (and that my car is in one piece), and pull into the road. But, seeing another chance,  they all turn again and this time pass me in a thundering cloud of dust. Elam jumps in the car, and we follow them up past my house. They turn into the field at full speed, the tops of their heads barely visible at the treeline. We stop. Watch. After a few big sighs and some quiet cussing, he asks me to get his brother with his riding horse, and he goes running after the team who are, by now, out of sight. I drive back down the road to his father's house, pick up two of his brothers and a saddle, and back to Elam's to get the riding horse. Mary comes out of the house, smiling, hands me a plateful of cookies, and we're off again to catch up to Elam, the brother riding his horse like a rodeo cowboy. Another neighbor arrives, I am relieved and start for the office again. All ended well, I learned later, and our guests were giddy after watching the whole episode from the front porch. Not only was I late for work, but I had a good story AND cookies!

Besides Bob, there have been other horses we've known: Maude, another favorite, who died unexpectedly after a long, hard day of working in the heat.  Joker - the lazy troublemaker and instigator of the above incident, who was sold off and with good riddance. And the beloved Pet, retired from driving the buggy, and who just this week became a new mother at a nearby family farm.

I have watched Bob lower his head to be petted by the tiny hand of Elam's young son. A little nudge from Bob and a big smile from the boy, I was amazed at the gentleness displayed by a beast of solid muscle whose head was bigger than the two year old. Lately, though, Bob's been halting in the middle of a job and getting tired more quickly.  Elam feels now is the time to retire him, before he's too old for anyone else to want him. Before he gets hurt and before difficult decisions must be made. So, Bob will be put to pasture by a friend who is taking him to Wisconsin. He'll be King Bob, a family pet and retired draft horse. No more leading the team, he'll be living a life of fresh grass and kind spirits. Happy retirement Bob!

It's a Piece of Cake

At 1:00 on Easter Sunday afternoon, I poured myself a glass of wine, and sat down on the front porch to enjoy the warmth of the sun. That feels so good after a cold winter.  Things were under control:  Our nephews, ages 6 and 4, were watching the movies the Easter Bunny brought them. Their baby brother was fed and fast asleep.  Their parents had been gone for two hours already, off for wine tasting and an overnight stay at the Belhurst. A long overdue, and well-deserved break without the kids. Piece of cake, I thought, the next 24 hours will be a piece of cake. 

As an extended family, we have kept busy since they arrived on Friday afternoon. We had make-your-own-pizza night, and ate the hot and gooey creations outside on the porch. We hoofed over to the dairy farm next door, pet the draft horses, and let the baby calves suck on our fingers. We played with kittens. Lots of kittens. We collected duck eggs from a barn, ate a picnic lunch and went to the Children's museum. This morning we flew kites (boy, that Easter Bunny was right on!) under perfect conditions in the field across the road. And all of these activities were interspersed with bike riding and playing in the dirt, and with a little brotherly wrestling thrown in.  The baby, who is 8 months old, watched and laughed, cried, drooled, and chewed on anything you put in his little hands, including a plastic tablespoon. That was his favorite diversion of the weekend.

At some point, however, the calm ceased and we were quickly outnumbered. Discipline and restraint went out the window.  We had no choice but to put everyone in dad's Big Suburban and go for a ride to the playground. But these kids just don't wear out.  On the way home, hovering just above the radio and the road noise were their chants, in stereo,  of "I want ice-cream." The answer of "after dinner" was getting me nowhere.  I had to outsmart them. I had to restore order and authority. Then it came to me. We pulled in the driveway, and I promised a surprise if they went right in and sat down.  "Today," I announced, "we are having dessert BEFORE dinner."  I think I saw, between their cheers of joy and chocolate-covered faces, one little spark of surprise, or was it a quick assessment of the trouble they would be in if their parents knew? Kevin pulled out the largest soup bowls we had, and offered not only chocolate ice-cream, but pudding and crumbled oreos as toppings. To our surprise, not only did they finish their ice-cream, but both boys ate all of their rigatoni, 2 helpings each mind you, without any challenge at all. We did it.

Not having children ourselves, I always wonder how parents get through it. But with a few fleeting moments of self-confidence and by thinking on our feet, we managed. And we had fun. The boys had another memorable weekend at Aunt Michele's and Uncle Sonny's house in the country. Loving these 3 little guys, watching them grow and discover the world.  That is a piece of cake. Chocolate cake, with whipped cream, and cherry on top.

Keep A Goat Employed

Before we opened the B&B we had lots of ideas on what it was to be. It had to be a place where we would like to stay. A home that reflected not only our tastes, but who we are. A home where the innkeepers share their stories, converse over breakfast, help with travel details, but leave you to your privacy. The location of our house, rural and bucolic, is attractive to travelers who want to get away from the city but we also see guests who simply want to experience something different. 

The smallest details often make the biggest impressions.  And for us, that is our guest soap. I never thought much about soap, I suppose, but as innkeepers we considered the following: What if someone has allergies? How could we choose one standard scent? Do we want bars or liquid soap? Which is easier to clean up? Is there a way to incorporate something local here and help a small business? Enter, serendipitously, our friend Marty. Turns out his cousin Charleen raises goats on a farm in Darien Center and (you guessed it!) makes goat milk soap. I called her. Guest sized bars, she said, are no problem. I'll send you some samples.
 

Shortly thereafter, we received a small, sweet-smelling package from Harper Hill Farm containing little paper envelopes of beautiful scents.  Oh. My. Goodness. The variety of colors and aromas was overwhelming, but we managed to choose about 8 of our favorites. Even better, however, was how these soaps felt when you put them under water. They almost melt. Aromatherapy and moisturizer in one small little bar. 

The thing about small-batch soap is it's REAL soap, rich in natural glycerin. No detergents, synthetic colors, artificial foam boosters, petroleum or alcohol. An added bonus for us? She uses lard and milk from her own pigs and goats, herbs from her garden and as many local ingredients as possible. Perfect. 

Guests will find in their rooms a variety of scents from which to choose, and we encourage them to take their bar home with them. They may also purchase full size bars here.

As innkeepers, these unexpected friendships we make along the way become part of our home, to be shared with those who stay with us.  Small businesses have a friendly face behind them and most likely a good story as well.  So we help keep a goat employed. Buy goat milk soap!

What's for breakfast?

Here at our house we are committed to using as many locally produced ingredients as possible. It's is easier than you might think, really, because our region is abundant with small, family-owned farms that promise free-range, Farmer's Pledge, or Certified Organic wares. We enjoy the challenge of creating tasty items that guests will find unique and memorable.

Depending on the day of the week, breakfast is either four courses (weekends) or serve-yourself continental style (weekdays). Our weekend breakfast features fresh fruit, local yogurt, a savory entree, and dessert (yes! dessert for breakfast!). Many venues in the area will offer strawberries, cherries, currants, apples, pears, plums, berries and a few surprises. During blueberry season, we head down the road and load up our buckets with the best blueberries around. We find freshly picked berries to need little enhancement, and so we feature them drizzled with blackberry sauce or with a dollop of whipped cream. When fruit is in abundance, jam making takes over the kitchen, providing the fresh taste of summer for us and our guests all year round. Our property, too, provides a limited yet useful source of fruit, herbs, and flowers for the breakfast table. I'm an early riser, so each morning I put on a pot of coffee and step outside for snippets of posies and herbs while the birds are chirping and the guests are still asleep.

Quite often guests will rave about the yogurt, which is produced about 2 miles down the road. Jersey cow milk, which has a higher fat content than Holstein, gives it a smooth and creamy texture. We add a topping of granola or grapenuts from the local market and a drizzle of honey or maple syrup. Yum.
 

Breakfast entrees are savory, rather than sweet, and feature happy hen brown eggs with yolks the color of ripe apricots. We are always on the lookout for flexible recipes we can adjust according to the produce available, but our vegetable custards, herb crepes stuffed with spinach and feta, bacon-onion tarts, and shirred eggs have become our signature dishes.  No-nitrate bacon, Canadian style or thick-sliced from, share the plate along side goat cheese (chevre) medallions or straw potato cakes, both golden brown and crunchy.  The feta and the chevre come from Lively Run Goat Dairy in Interlaken. This small farm, and others in the area, are making wonderful, small-batch cheeses rich with freshness and aged to perfect sharpness. We hear the cheese makers may be developing a Cheese Trail. Wouldn't that be cool? We think it could be the next big thing in the Finger Lakes.
 
Last, but certainly not the least, is dessert. We keep it fresh and seasonal. Strawberry cake, blueberry cobbler, buttery little tarts and pies...we love serving this part of breakfast. This time of year, while fruit availability is lean, we'll be baking local maple syrup into a walnut pound cake glazed with more maple syrup. Our testers (friends, neighbors, etc) gave us a thumb's up on this new recipe.

Weekday breakfasts are just as substantial and fresh but with a few changes. Self-paced and casual, guests enjoy toasted home-made English muffins and jam, fresh fruit of the season, and muffins or sweet cakes.  Our lemon pound cake with its rich, dense crumb is one of our favorites for weekday guests.

Whether guests will be wine tasting, hiking, or traveling to their next destination, our breakfasts will fortify their journeys and sustain them until dinner. Often is the case, however, where they go no further than the front porch, sitting down and listening to the birds, enjoying the garden, or catching a cat-nap. We hope they are satisfied enough to wonder "What's for breakfast....tomorrow?"

Boys of Spring

How far would you drive to see a particular bird? Tonight, just before dusk, I put on my red tassel cap, tossed my binoculars into the car, and drove about 6 miles hoping to catch the courtship display of the male American Woodcock. I know it sounds nerdy, but conditions were perfect:  Both the wind and rain had stopped, and the sky was white with cloud cover. I arrived at my destination cold...muddy...but full of hope. Lover-boy did not disappoint.

I am a birdwatcher. I can't help it. Watching birds is fascinating. They are amazing creatures. Some travel hundreds, even thousands of miles, twice a year, no matter what. Some feast on early berries for the long flight south, some feast on later berries when they arrive famished and exhausted. And finding a particular species is not as random as I once thought it was. If you had bluebirds in your yard last year, you will probably have bluebirds again this year and next.  Barn swallows? They return every year, probably the same birds or their offspring. A couple of years ago, one particular barn swallow--we call him Bebo--decided that our porch is much nicer and less crowded than the barn, so he found a mate and built a nest. Our guests enjoyed watching the babies fledge one by one and seeing the whole family roosting all in a row at night.

There are times, however, when a storm will blow a bird off-course or something goes wrong with its navigation system, or it passes through just briefly, and we get to see an uncommon bird in our local habitat before it perishes, as is sometimes the case, or moves on. Last Christmas we were lucky to have a visit by a Snowy Owl. He stayed until May.  Once word is out, generally via a posting by someone in the Cayuga Bird Club, people drive good distances to see the birds in the local habitat. You know you have found it when you turn the corner, and there are a dozen cars and giant camera lenses poking out from the windows. You walk over to the first person you see, they ask "Are you here to see the 'fill in the blank'?" and then they point. There it is. We all stand in silence and awe, saluting with binoculars raised. 

Back to the American Woodcock who is, by the way, one of the first spring arrivals.  It's a funny looking bird, brown spots and long bill and a waddle when it walks.  But when attracting a mate, this birds goes all out. I heard the peent...peent...peent and I waited. I was hearing at least two different birds. Without warning, he flew out from the brush in a diagonal trajectory making fast chirping sounds. He climbed higher and higher, spiraling with wings fluttering rapidly. The chirping continued until he was just a speck against the sky. Just as quickly, he dove towards the ground, spinning and zig-zagging nose first, a more melodious chirping marking his descent. Then silence, followed by peent....peent...peent.  I kept watching and listening as he repeated this sky dance three times before the darkness made further seeing impossible. Wow. I can't believe I finally saw it. Funny thing?  Lover-boy will keep doing this even after he's got the girl! 


(photo credit Michael J. Hopiak/CLO)