Jammin!

I may not possess the secret of joy, but I think I've figured out the secret of jam: small batches.  Making jam used to be a huge "event" involving lots of time, lots of mess, and mixed results - sometimes jam, sometimes more like a sauce.  I hated lugging up the huge canner, waiting forever for it to boil, and scorching my fruit.  

I almost gave up until earlier this week when I decided to make a tiny batch of jam and see what happened.  I decided to use my stainless steel pasta pot - the kind with the removable steamer/strainer - instead of the large canning kettle.  It worked beautifully as a small canning kettle.  I left the strainer in the pot so that the water would be able to circulate around the jars from underneath as well as on the sides and top.  

I have used Pomona's Pectin in the past with good results, but I used Sure Jell this time, and it worked just fine, even though it was out of date.   If you've never made jam before, most boxes of pectin will include a guide to help you.  Make sure your kitchen is clean, have all your tools ready (it all goes fast at the end), and make sure your jars are clean and free from nicks.  

Today's recipe is for raspberry-peach jam, but you can use just raspberries if you like.  I did a small batch of raspberry jam earlier in the week.  I used raspberries and peaches that I had frozen previously and thawed overnight, and they taste every bit as good as fresh.  This recipe makes 5 pints.

Raspberry-Peach Jam

6 1/2 cups fruit - (4 cups of raspberries and 2 1/2 cups of peaches, fresh or frozen and thawed)
1 1/2 cups sugar + 1/8 cup sugar
1/2 box of Sure Jell pectin - about 1/4 cup
1 teaspoon butter (to prevent foaming)

Put the fruit into an enameled or stainless steel pot with the 1 1/2 cups sugar.  Bring to a simmer and simmer for about 15 - 20 minutes, enough to release the juices, stirring occasionally.  Use a potato masher to mash the fruit into a pulp if needed.

While the fruit is simmering, heat the water in your canning kettle/pasta pot until boiling.  I also heat another small pot of water to just under the boiling point and put my lids in to sterilize them about five minutes before I fill the jars.  Do not boil the lids, just keep them hot.

In a separate bowl, combine the pectin and the remaining 1/8 cup sugar.  When the fruit is ready, USING A WIRE WHISK, quickly stir the pectin/sugar mixture into the fruit.  Turn the heat on the pot up, and bring the mixture to a rolling boil, stirring constantly with the whisk (if you don't stir continuously, the pectin will form lumps in the jam).  Boil the fruit mixture for one minute.  You'll see and feel it thicken up.

Now comes the fast and furious part.  Dip each jar into the boiling water in your canner and then empty it.  Ladle the jam into the jar, leaving 1/4" head space (I use the grooves on the rim of the jar to guide me).  WIPE THE RIM OF THE JAR (it's easy to forget this), remove one lid from the hot pot and place it on the jar, then screw on the cap firmly but not tightly.  Repeat this procedure with all the other jars.

Once all the jars are filled, lower them gently into your pasta pot/kettle.  Make sure the water covers them by an inch or so.  Bring the water back to a boil, and process the jars for 10 minutes.  

My pasta pot will conveniently hold five pints of jam

Remove the jars from the boiling water bath and place them on the counter to cool.  As they cool off, the lids will "pop" to seal the jars.  When they are cool enough to handle, you can unscrew the caps, wipe any excess water off the lids, and screw the caps back on.

Label your jars, and store your jam in a dark place to retain color and flavor.  They are so pretty, it's tempting not to open them.  Spread on fresh bread, a well-made jam will bring back memories of summer, and tea-time is always better with good jam.

Blue Skies Smiling at Me - Raspberry Picking

The raspberries start to ripen in mid-August in this part of Wisconsin, and they are in full swing right around the time the early apples ripen.  Most years I make a trek to Blue Skies Berry Farm, just a 10-minute drive from my house, to pick a flat of the best organic raspberries I've ever eaten.

Paul and Louise, the farm owners, are fascinating and erudite people, and they are committed to sustainable agriculture and farming using organic methods.  Louise told me that when she and Paul decided to raise raspberries, they were told that it couldn't be done organically.  Clearly the experts were wrong, as the berries are large and luscious, and beneficial insects like bees and thousands of ladybugs keep any pests at bay and fertilize the flowers.

The view from inside the main gate of Blue Skies

 Raspberries are clever little fruit.  While many berries are easily visible on top of the foliage,

many others hide discretely beneath the leaves.  The trick to successful berry picking is to look from below and lift the canes to find the treasures hiding underneath.  That's often where the best berries are, and I always feel a little thrill when I find a trove of them where no one has ventured to look.  Is it worth a few scratches and a couple of mosquito bites to find them?  Oh, yes, indeed!

It takes a couple of hours to fill a full flat of raspberries, but the work is quiet and contemplative for the most part.  The sun is warm but not too hot.  A hawk glides overhead, its cry piercing the underlying hum of the bees.  Crickets chirrup at the base of the berry canes.  A few Canada geese make a noisy test flight over the fields, and the bees swirl around unperturbed by human hands. We all share in the bounty.   Everyone and everything is gathering up food for winter, but for now the grass is still green.  We are mindful, though, of the waning of the season as the crimson leaves here and there on the trees tell us that autumn is beginning.

There is plenty for all, though, and tasting is encouraged.  Who could possibly resist?

 Once back at the barn, there are other treasures to be taken home.  Lou and Paul raise a number of vegetables in addition to their raspberries.  I choose some onions, garlic, shallots, and kale to take back.   Fresh, truly fresh, onions are garlic are a treat to be savored and are a far cry from the ones in the grocery store.  

Once home, the berries are carefully checked for any hitchhikers - six ladybugs hid in the pint boxes and were rescued and released into our yard.  The berries are then put into freezer containers and stored in the chest freezer in the basement where they will make jams and cobblers throughout the winter.

Pints and pints of berries!

Fifteen pints of berries is a lot of berries, but they are so worth it!

Summer's End - A Poem

I wrote the following poem in 2006, and it appeared in the Samhain 2006 issue of "Matrifocus - A Cross-Quarterly for the Goddess Woman," an on-line collection of lore, poetry, photos, and writing which, sadly, is no longer being produced.  I've seen bits and pieces of the poem circulating on-line, and it seemed right to republish it here on my own blog.

Summer's End

by Holin Kennen

The gates of summer, once open wide 

like the arms of absent friends begin to close haltingly 

with rusty hinges creaking in cool mornings.

The fireflies that rose in steaming clouds 

from humid backyard lawns
have disappeared overnight 

as though deported to another country,
leaving thrumming cicadas overhead

pulsing like high voltage wires.

Now great baskets of tomatoes

sunset crimson and dusky orange,
delicate raspberries, their jeweled caps 

painting picking fingers purple, with seeds like tiny pearls

sweet and tart with days of rain and sun,

await the sauce pots and canning jars 

to hold their garnet ripening.
Standing at the counter putting up fresh corn 

long after time for sleep
knife swiftly parting kernels from the cob

white and gold, milk dripping
the corgi puppy gnawing fiercely at the one cob left for him
scatters kernels, golden beads 

tossed along the blood red floor.
The pressure of the dimming light 

to hold to growth and life a while longer
knowing that surrender to the dark will come

that gates must close as well as open.
I lie next to you in bed, just touching

listening to distant thunder by the river
your steady breathing, the dog, the cat at the foot of the bed, 

regular as clocks.
Dreaming of red seeds and blood 

the corn, the crimson jam and rust red sauce
as my own last blood begins to flow 

into this jar of late summer night.
Waiting for my womb's gate to close 

to hold inside a few precious ruby seeds,
praying I have harvested enough, put by enough 

to feed me when I'm old.

Hi-ho! Hi-ho! To the Woolen Mill I Go!

"Too many fleeces!"  Too many fleeces!"  I muttered to myself as I re-organized one of the fleece storage areas in my house.  I was putting away the last of this year's purchases, and I realized that if I carded or combed all of the fleeces I currently have all by myself, I would be likely to need surgery on my hands before I was halfway finished.  Surely some of these fleeces could go to the fiber mill for processing, and I could hand process the special fleeces, those which are too long, double-coated, or have too much crud in them to successfully send to a fiber mill.  

Having made the decision, I contacted Blackberry Ridge Woolen Mill in Mount Horeb, Wisconsin, and hauled out two Targhee fleeces for them to process.  I first visited Blackberry Ridge during my first month here in Wisconsin, way back in the fall of 2004.  They have a longstanding reputation of producing nice woolen yarns and roving and creative patterns for knitters.  Their price for carding my washed roving was incredibly reasonable - only $4.75 a pound for anything over five pounds.  The two fleeces I had weighed 12.5 pounds, and anybody who knows about hand carding knows that this would take many, many hours to process by hand.  Paying a little over $60.00 to get this done would save me hours of work to prepare the wool for spinning.

Down the road I went on a sunny day.  The drive through the countryside was lovely, with the fields beginning to turn from green to gold as the corn ripens and the autumn feed crops mature.

There is just a touch of fall in the foliage now, but it will be coming on in full force any day now.

The woolen mill itself is tucked up on the top of a ridge, surrounded by forest.

My fleeces arrive at Blackberry Ridge.

The two fleeces I chose were the First and Second place winners from A - Z Farm in the 2013 Wisconsin Sheep and Wool Festival.  Targhee wool is sturdy but has a lot of bounce and elasticity, and it makes warm and comfy socks, mittens, and hats.

The fleeces will be carded into roving by the 100-year old carding machine shown on the left side of the photo.  To the right side is the spinning machine that turns the carded wool into finished yarn.  It will take 3 - 5 months before the finished roving is ready to be picked up (they have a lot of wool to process), but I have plenty to spin in the meantime.

Of course, I couldn't leave empty-handed, so I picked up about a pound of purple and magenta Corriedale roving to take home with me.  

Coming back home, I had a delightful visit with a member of a small flock of dairy goats who live down the road from the woolen mill.

I've been spinning the new roving, and it should be ready in time for Madison Pagan Pride in October.  

A Weaver Is Born

Harvest at her new loom

My dear wife, Harvest, has been interested in weaving for some time, but she finally made the jump to becoming a "real" weaver this summer.  She has worked on small band looms and simple, rigid heddle looms, but last year she bought a great big floor loom.  It was a real behemoth, and it didn't fit her short stature as well as she had hoped.  The big loom was noisy as well.   She took lessons from a friend but nearly gave up after one batch of towels.  She noticed that Fiber Garden in Black River Falls, Wisconsin was teaching a class on overshot weaving in July, and she decided to give it one more try.

Overshot weaving is a very old style of weaving where the threads "shoot over" each other to produce a pattern.  You can find overshot coverlets, usually in blue and white and sometimes in blue and red on a white background, in antique stores where they command high prices.  In recent years, there has been an interest in reproducing these traditional textiles.  Both Harvest and I have always liked these complex, geometric patterns which resemble kaleidoscope pictures or stained glass windows.

Upon arrival at her hotel room, Harvest was treated to one of many of Wisconsin's "oddities" in the form of a gigantic orange moose and deer sculpture outside her window.  If I was that deer sculpture in the background, I'd be leaping over a barrel, too!

Fiber Garden teaches all kinds of classes and had all the supplies Harvest needed to start weaving.

 They even had a collection of spinning wheels for sale.  Since the looms took up most of the floor space that weekend, the wheels were stashed in the only available space: the bathroom.

 Harvest chose an overshot pattern from her weaving book.  The squares that look sort of like musical notation tell her where to place the warp threads and which treadles to push in which order.

Then she measured out the warp yarns on the warping board.  The warp yarns are the threads that run lengthwise along the fabric.

After measuring out the correct length and number of threads, the warp threads are put on the loom in bundles.  This is sometimes called "dressing" the loom.

The workshop loom - a Schact Baby Wolf loom

Putting on the warp threads

Tying the threads into bundles

Once the warp threads are all in their proper places, the weaving itself can begin.  Harvest experimented with several different patterns and colors throughout the weekend.  All of the patterns are variations of one overshot warp sett called Small Honeysuckle.  All of the overshot patterns seem to have these quaint, old-fashioned names which adds to their appeal.

Experimenting with color and patterns.

The warp threads, which are white and run from top to bottom, are Shetland wool. The colored threads running across the fabric are from Wensleydale wool.



In just two days, Harvest had a huge length of cloth completed.

All this cloth in just two days!

The dark green pattern shown on the left in the photo above was used to make two pillows for our bedroom.

Two new pillows for our bedroom settee.

In addition to finding a type of weaving she loved - overshot - Harvest had found a loom she loved - a Baby Wolf - so I immediately went about trying to find one for her.  The Fates were on our side. Apple Hollow Farm up in Door County had one for sale for a great, and we drove up and brought it home.  The photo at the top of this blog post shows Harvest with her new loom.  

I've been trying to get Harvest to use my yarn to weave for ages, and now she finally says she's good enough to use my yarn.  She is thinking about returning for another class this October.  I only hope my yarn will be good enough for such a gifted new weaver.

Now we just have to find a home for the big floor loom...

FWA!! Fiber Whores Anonymous

Clockwise from top left:  grey Coopworth fleece, burgundy Coopworth roving, white Coopworth fleece, "Tuni-dale" fleece

I am a fiber whore.  I freely admit that I am obsessed with, and possessed by, a love of fiber that, to some (well, maybe lots of) people, would border on excess.  I am absolutely incapable of resisting the lure of good fiber.  One can never have enough.  She who dyes with the most fiber wins, and, besides, if the apocalypse comes, I'll be able to spin and knit sweaters for everybody in town and insulate the house.  To make matters worse, I have no intention of changing.  I do, however, recruit others to share my passion with all things fiber.  I do not pray that my Higher Power will lead me from temptation; I pray it will allow me to ignore the fact that I have more than enough fiber already and really should be able to resist just one more fleece (or roving, or wheel, or spindle).

 To further my evil agenda, I attempt recruit as many people as possible to share my "addiction."  I have demonstrated and taught spinning, I travel to farms to evaluate fleeces for breeders, I have raised and sheared my own sheep, I am the co-coordinator of the fleece show at the Wisconsin Sheep and Wool Festival, and I have inflicted my enthusiasm to such a degree on my dear wife, Harvest, that she has at last become a real, live weaver, which delights me to no end (more about this in a future post.) 

Fiber whores are known for being willing to travel ridiculously long distances in all kinds of weather to obtain a "fix" of fiber, yarn, or fiber-related tools.   I have purchased English Leicester fleece while staying at Colonial Williamsburg. Colonial Williamsburg is one of the few places in the U.S. where this rare breed is being raised, so it seemed only natural to "buy local."  One of my Great Wheels was purchased while on a trip to the Amish area of Ohio.  I had no intention of buying a Great Wheel, but I did have a feeling I might find one and warned Harvest that if I did find one, I was going to buy it.  Mind you, I already had a Great Wheel, but I wanted a better one.  On that same trip, we travelled all over Central Ohio finding fiber and yarn.  It was by chance that I found one of my two Great Wheels, Sophie, in an antique shop.  Harvest made no objection to the price, and we shuffled the luggage in the van to make room for her.

We fiber whores hoard yarn, fleece, spinning wheels, knitting needles, dye, looms, winders, noddy-noddies, and fiber-related tools of all kinds.  We plant dyer's gardens.  I have a stash of fleeces to spin that would probably take me five years to finish if I didn't buy another fleece (which is as unlikely to happen as it is for Hades to freeze over).  My friend and knitting teacher, Mildred, though she has been spinning only a year, is catching up quickly on her own stash of fiber, and Harvest and I are completely rearranging the downstairs of our home to make it more accessible for looms, spinning wheels, and yarns in the hope of opening a small shop.

Given our mutual attraction to fiber, Mildred, Harvest, and I have dubbed ourselves the founding members of Fiber Whores Anonymous - FWA, for short.   We know we are not alone, and we encourage others to come out of the fiber closet, loud and proud, with the cry of, "FWA for all, and all for FWA!"  Fiber whores come in all shapes and sizes, all ages, men, women, and young folk.  Once addicted, there is no cure, only the satisfaction of getting more fiber.  Thank goodness our addiction produces useful things like hats, mittens, and woven textiles. 

Thus it was that The Un-holey (yes, I did spell that correctly) Fiber Trinity of Harvest, Mildred, and I headed down a series of winding country roads in Northern Illinois on a Saturday to the Midwest Fiber and Folk Art Fair for a FWA Adventure.

Mildred and I were immediately halted in our tracks by a fleece show in progress, judged by my good friend and mentor, Neil Kentner.  

The Grand Champion fleece was a stunning grey Coopworth (not for sale, alas), but Mildred and I snapped up a stunning, white, First Place Coopworth fleece before anybody could even get near the thing.  The sheep had been raised by Carol Wagner, and Carol's Coopworth fleeces are in a class by themselves.  This fleece will make beautiful weaving yarn.  That shine on the fleece you see isn't from the bag, it's the fiber.  YUM!  

Of course, since we were talking with Neil, he showed us a "happy accident" fleece from his own farm.  One of his Wensleydale rams had gotten in with two of his Tunis ewes, and the result was what Neil calls a "Tuni-dale."  It was wonderful.  Oh, dear!  Mildred and I bought this one, too.

All this shopping had worked up a real hunger, so we decided to take lunch and take stock.  We headed out to the parking lot to where our meal awaited us.

Harvest had prepared a lunch in true FWA style.  Wine in real glasses with cloth napkins and vintage linens, sourdough bread, grapes, cherries, several local cheeses, hard-boiled eggs, and chocolate biscuits.  FWA folks know how throw a proper tailgate party!

Refreshed and none the worse for the wine, we headed back inside to explore and shop some more.  Harvest snapped up several skeins of yarn to use for weaving.  Back at Carol Wagner's booth, Mildred spotted a grey Coopworth fleece that she couldn't resist, and we both two large balls of dyed roving.  

The alpaca fleeces had been judged earlier, so I snapped a photo of the winning fleece.  Note that it is two colors which can be spun separately or blended together.

The alpaca folks had a very nice display of yarns, and I was able to take a photo of one of their majestic animals.  

Not only were there alpacas at the festival, but there were angora rabbits, too.  The little fellow on the left is called a "Lion Head," and he's not much bigger than a kitten.  The rabbits on the bottom right are angora rabbits which shed their warm fur which is then gathered up and spun to make very soft, very warm yarns.  The rabbits were quite friendly and seemed to enjoy being held by people much of the day.  As you can see, one of them wants to get out of his cage and be held again!

It took several days to wash all the fleeces - a total of almost 18 pounds of wool, but we have some gorgeous fiber to show for it  and great memories of a trip worthy of a true FWA Adventure.