How the Boysenberry Got Its Name

While researching which varieties of boysenberry grows well in our climate, I came across a flippin' cute story about how the berry got its name.

 

It's especially charming because it is true.

 

From Wikipedia, of course:

In the late 1920s, George M. Darrow of the USDA began tracking down reports of a large, reddish-purple berry that had been grown on the northern California farm of a man named Rudolph Boysen.^[4] Darrow enlisted the help of Walter Knott, a Southern California farmer who was known as a berry expert. Knott had never heard of the new berry, but he agreed to help Darrow in his search.

Darrow and Knott learned that Boysen had abandoned his growing experiments several years earlier and sold his farm. Undaunted by this news, Darrow and Knott headed out to Boysen's old farm, on which they found several frail vines surviving in a field choked with weeds. They transplanted the vines to Knott's farm in Buena Park, California, where he nurtured them back to fruit-bearing health.

Walter Knott was the first to commercially cultivate the berry in southern California.^[4] He began selling the berries at his farm stand in 1932 and soon noticed that people kept returning to buy the large, tasty berries. When asked what they were called, Knott said, "Boysenberries," after their originator.^[5] His family's small restaurant and pie business eventually grew into Knott's Berry Farm.

As the berry's popularity grew, Mrs. Knott began making preserves, which ultimately made Knott's Berry Farm famous.

The GrandDog's Visit

The beasts were at it again.

 As you can see, Roxie came for a visit. 

 We cleared out the upstairs room for play space.

It's a good thing: they wrestled like a couple of eight year old boys.

What one didn't think of, the other one did.

 Pretty much this is what went down for the whole weekend.

We brought up water, but they didn't drink until their tongues were hanging out. No one wanted to yield.

And then they demanded a snack. (This is Roxie's expectant look)

 A three minute break ...  to catch their breath

 And then right back at it, wrestling and playing.

We showed Roxie how to play soccer. She loved it so much she woke me up at 3 in the morning on Sunday "to go" outside and went right for the ball. I guess she could see it from the bedroom window and thought of that good idea all by herself.

There was a lot of field time with tight supervision, but it didn't help. Roxie does not come back when called. The triangle, the Hubs' whistles, and my strange hooting sound were all necessary to get her back. Thank goodness the sheep were gone or we'd have never seen her again.



So we constructed a makeshift dog run just for a break. See their happy faces being outside for a while and on their own?

New Toy Alert! The Hubs found something fun to do while we were outside. And me? I was running for towels! The dogs were in the mud!

It's Bare Root Time

I got up to check on the hubs who had insomnia and in no time he was tucked in snoring away with the dog at his feet, and here I am totally awake now and it's 2:22am. So the only thing to do was research on planting guides for fruit trees and -- it starts now! in January! for bare root fruit trees.

This is probably not the final list ... still researching the orange and apricot, and as always comments are welcome privately or below, if you have a variety that works well for you.

• Boysenberry it is. They will be planted along No-Man's Land beyond the olive grove. It sits in full sun with a bit of shade in the hottest part of the afternoon summer, and the land sits fallow all year round. The owner of that patch offered it to us to plant if we'd like. I am reading that the boysenberry has woody stalks that need to be cleared out each fall to keep it growing like an adolescent, to maintain good berry production. So a trailing vine, although more beautiful and graceful, won't be as practical to prune as a bush. Good point, Barb. Thanks.

• An Orange tree or Clementine, planted closer to the house and easy to grab a snack as you walk by.  We buy Cuties by the bushel, the sweeter mandarin hybrid oranges with thin skins and juicy petite fruit. I need to research what grows well here, strong root base, and resistant to the occasional cold snap.

• A Meyer lemon - fleshy, less acidic, a hybrid of traditional lemon and oranges. This is a hands down favorite with my friends, reported as easy to grow, full of taste and a deeper yellow color. Thin skinned, heavy in the hand, winter yield that is plentiful but it produces all year round. Thanks for the tip, Texas Tim.

• A Santa Rosa Plum - I have personal experience with one of these in the yard of my first house. The sweet tart delicious fruit is good and juicy, and the skin is firm and a little bit sour. I like the graceful thin branches with deep red-plum colored leaves.  A definite yes.

• An Apricot.  It is one of my favorite fruits, and with such a variety of purposes will be ideal. App-ri-cots. Not ape-re-cots. :)  I need tips on the best and most hardy variety, if you have them. 

• An Apple: Love apples, but there are too many choices to decide right for this season. It's already bare root season, and gotta get it in asap.

• A Blood Red Orange dwarf variety came to us last year from a roadside stand. It has an amazing acidic sweet tart taste with a deep red color. In Italy the tree grows plentifully and is the preferred orange juice served in ristorantes. Here you can get it by the quart, but it costs a small fortune. Our little tree bore fruit in its 2nd year, but we lost them in the move to the farm. This will be planted come spring alongside the garden.

Hardware Sickness

From The Old Fashion Recipe Book, 1977 Edition, Carla Emery writes about Hardware Sickness:

"That's what the old timers call it. One vet tells me that he gets around 200 cows a year with this. It means that your cow has eaten a piece of metal. Cows munch mechanically along and if there is a nail in the food, or close by, it goes down too. Nails, bolts, even timers came up with the remedy and it is still used today. I had a neighbor whose cow ate baling wire. That's a bad one, and she eventually had to be operated on by the vet."

Treatment: "The old timers went to town, bought a magnet and forced the animal to swallow it. If the metal has not progressed beyond the big stomach, this will save your cow. The magnet grabs the metal and pulls it to the bottom of the cow's stomach. It doesn't ever pass out. She has magnet and metal for the rest of her life. But she won't die. There are now small, very heavy smooth oval shaped magnets sold for this very purpose through veterinary suppliers."

Hardware sickness in humans:  Heading in to the hardware store to pick something up and getting caught up with stuff they didn't go in for and probably don't need, and coming out with a cart full of stuff that does not include the thing they went in there to buy.

Treatment: No known cure.

Brine & Wine

We were in Sonoma this weekend for the standing-room-only olive harvesting class with brining and seasoning tips.  Official Instructions, below:

You take some olive trees. Buy a mess of supplies. Add in a nice day to be outside. Pick the fruit til your knees give out. Wash everything thoroughly. Mix up the pickling salt concoction. Toss the olives in. Check and change the water regularly. Scoop off icky stuff on the top that won't kill you or harm the process. And eventually you will have magnificent, tender, crunchy olives to season deliciously any way you want.

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After that happy news, we made our way to the Square, and had time for a stop at the amazing kitchen store and had oodles of fun there before meeting up for lunch at the Girl and the Fig.

I'm not sure any day can claim to be much better than that.

My One and Only

It came to me after watching my son do amazing things with his budget on CraigsList that perhaps we could pick some things up on the cheap. There's equipment to get, and we really aren't sure of all that we will need, plus the whole novice thing that will make things possibly - and most probably - overworked until we get the hang of it.

We researched the types of riding mowers and garden tractors, and surely did not want to be too grandiose and conspicuous with our new equipment. We are surrounded by bonafide, honest engine farmers, and getting stuff too big or flashy would likely set the wrong tone. We want to blend if you catch the drift.

Buying and repurposing things (obviously) appeals to us. So we took up the hunt, wading through the hey! hahaha! look at this one! postings of farm equipment already dead or dying, hoping to find something serviceable and in good shape.

On Sunday night at 11pm after a day of olive brining and hanging out in Sonoma, just before turning in, I hopped on to CL to nose around.  And there she was: a garden tractor and mower with a Kohler engine, good amount of power, Craftsman strong. She was well used but cared for; pretty red color still; stick shift (my favorite); and relatively cheap.

ON IT!

I emailed the guy at midnight and introduced ourselves and asked him to call, which he did early the next day, and the Hubs met him and did the meet and greet and test drive, and by the time I got home from work, there it was sitting majestically in the garage being brushed down like a Quarterhorse.

I thought Penny for a name - <the unit was made in Illinois, Abe's state and Lincoln's face is on the penny> - but he would have none of that. Needs a masculine name. Alright, we'll name the garden tractor something clever and majestic, like Fred.

Maybe now's the time to break the news that I found a CL chicken coop custom made that comes with a couple of live chickens ... only eighty bucks...

Preservative Free 20:13

A tripoley marathon and munchies with good friends was our kind of send off for 2012. We traveled a long ways together.

Starting with a new morning on a new day of a new year is an ideal time for thoughts on paper. What will the year bring?

New beginnings, big and small. Challenges that push us to the limit, but are disguised as opportunities to become reacquainted with the best in ourselves. Losses and gains, and unimagined things that we will use to grow in purpose and humanity.

May your 2013 be delicious and preservative free.

Freezing tomatoes whole: Dip firm tomatoes in boiling water, slip the skins and freeze whole. To use in salads, take out just before mealtime, cut in pieces and mix with salad. They will be thawed by the time it's time to sit down.

Christmas Eve

This holiday, we got the gift of sheep. Seemingly overnight a temporary fence had been strung between metal stakes surrounding our prop and following the roads that flank the open alfalfa fields, and hundreds of sheep were happily munching away.

That was probably one of the most wonderful surprises since moving here, and there have been some serious contenders for that prize. Tom stopped by to drop off a book and said that the shepherd pays him for them to graze. I wonder how it works when they breach the fence and come into our yard. We appreciate the hand with the weeds, but will we also get paid?

Dogs are so great because they are curious and earnest in their desire to explore.  Leashed and well heeled, the Hubs took Sammy out for introductions, especially to the low volt but definitely making a point electrically charged fence.

However.

That lesson was lost once Sam's friends arrived for Christmas and one of the family innocently let them out for their constitutional. The pack wasn't sure what the sheep were, but they intended to find out. They were out and in the back and rocketed through the electric fence before we hit the porch.

The sheep ran for it, of course, and the dogs following a little ways until they noticed something more interesting underfoot. Mud. Gooey, fresh from the rain, perfectly smelly and interesting mud.

Oh man, first the snouts shove in and then they rub their faces and necks in it, and before long plop on their sides and do the back roll thing. All we mortals could do was stand by and weakly holler to them to return.

Getting back through the fence proved more of a challenge, and the Divine Miss S got a shock or two by the sounds of the yip. Fortunate for us they all returned and there is a utility sink in the laundry rm, plenty of space to accommodate a variety of sizes of four legged mudballs, and they took turns.

Once done, with dog cookies and brushings out of the way, and everyone nearly dry, we all curled up on the sofa to watch Miracle on 34th Street, the black and white version because that one's the best.

Our Brand of Christmas

A Definite Guy Job

It's been raining but not enough that the ground won't dry out between innings. The wind kicks up along the flatlands and chatters through the trees. There's nothing bad about that.

Oh, but the water smells bad again, like sulfur. The cold water is fine but what comes out of the shower and kitchen faucet is rotten eggy sour.

It's all bad  - well, except the part where the hubs sprays himself with cologne before work because he thinks his sulfur coated body may not be pleasant to be around, and when he kisses me goodbye it reminds me of our yummy dating years.

And so I put it to the Internet to help with research about this problem, and possible solutions. At first glance, the ideas weren't too grim. *In-The-Know-ers* recommended a couple of solid ideas, such as flushing the water heater and putting an auxilary filter at the well to trap the sulfide particles.

So we're going to divide this project into two parts. The first part which I was surprised the Hubs has never done with owning a house for 15 years, is to drain the water heater. Lucky for him I'm here. I've done this before. Not sure we need to do it, with a 6 month old water heater, but it's worth a try.

And the second part will be in two phases. The first (insane part) is to wrench off the bolt on the side of the well that holds it closed, and - one would guess - stand back, wearing hip waders and praying - while flushing the line until it runs clear. That doesn't sound like a good idea at all.

This idea came from the guy who installed the well, with an offhanded - you don't need to hire this out - it's easy as pie - but seems anything but easy. Maybe for someone in the business who has the knack, but it sounds like it could be ... fraught with peril for us. I mean, it's not a hose with a spigot. What if the bolt won't go back on? Or snaps while being removed? Or drops in the mud as the tsunami of wellwater mud careens toward the house?

It was discussed that Sunday would be a good day for the big well flushout. And if this is accomplished without washing away the gravel drive and the garage, the second part of part two, installing the clay filter, would be done to trap the sulfides forevermore. 

I swear I am not making this up.

The At-Homers

Our holiday tree has priceless heirloom ornaments: a paper mache globe with first grader smiles that are missing teeth; a Santa so heavily antiqued that it resembles an atomic bomb survivor rather than a Christmas ornament; and a glob of clay with broad strokes of red, shaped into a candycane with a kindergartener's name scrawled across the side.

Tangible childhood. 

This year, except for the tree, the holiday lights will stay where they are. There'll be no glitsy display along the front and looping down the posts. In honor of our landing spot, there are garlands with simple natural decorations. This is what gratefulness looks like, as we practice more joyfulness with less stuff.

May 2013 be everything good, and inspiring, and hopeful. May it provide many opportunities to learn how to give and take, and love in large measure. Peace to all, and Merry Christmas.

Randy and Nanci

Random Storm Pics

It was coming down in buckets. And right in the middle
of the worst of it, a rainbow peeked through.

It rained like it would never stop. High wind gusts. Bunnies
hid under the porch and wild grasses burst forth. This
citydog scratched at the door to be out in it the whole time. 



The drive has some rock but is mostly mud. A lot of
 leaves were still on the trees, and the high winds knocked them
off. They created a soft bed to walk on, over the mud.

Inside, 2 kinds of soups were simmered on the stove,
Tuscan Minestrone and a new experiment with
Cream of Potato with bacon, onion and kale.
It tasted good on a stormy weekend.

The first casualty of the Season was a big glass Santa globe
that the Hubs has had FOREVER! We harvested his parts and
now he looks out from his temporary headquarters on the
water cooler. Any ideas on how to replicate his body?

I made this Apple Wreath in 1988. Just love putting it
up at Christmas. I can't believe it has lasted - a straw wreath,
plastic apples, ribbon, glass bulbs and one stout glue gun.

The Hubs h-a-t-e-s glitter but in this case it looks good with the garland
accents around the windows. So please! Nobody touch it...and it won't shed



Blurry pic, but the twigs from the trees outside still have some
 leaves attached. We tried those advertised Command hanging
hooks that are supposed to stick to the wall and not leave
marks when they come down. Waste of money. 

The place did alright except for a leak from the windowbox
in the hall bath and water on the sill upstairs, everything
else was tight and right. Feelin' grateful for that.



Favorite Weekend Moment: when the Hubs figured a
way to plug welcome lights above the cabinets so we could display
the Christmas train in the perfect spot! The grandparents gave Mike and
his first cousin Rory matching wooden trains for their first
Christmas (1982) - they were born 4 days apart.