All Things Austen

My family (at least some of them) and my friends know I have slight Jane Austen obsession.  I have read all of her novels (she only completed six) at least once, and have tackled at least 6 different editions of Pride and Prejudice (annotated, updated, with zombies and without). One of my girlfriends has even nicknamed me '97 after 1797 which is the year First Impressions (a.k.a Pride and Prejudice) was first unsuccessfully peddled to publishers and the year Austen first started to write what would become Sense and Sensability. 

This past weekend, having 48 hours to myself, and only needing to make sure the farm animals were fed and had clean water (without ice), I viewed two versions of Pride and Prejudice (1995 BBC miniseries and the Keira Knightley 2005? version) and the BBC Sense and Sensibility miniseries (I also spent my time in more productive ways such as doing the laundry, sorting through winter clothes, organizing finances, playing the piano and grading papers). 

Austen's stories are essentially the same; she's a bit of a formulaic writer, obviously by design.  I  know I am obsessed with Austen's novels because everything always works out beautifully in the end.  I also realize that at least half of the female population has this obsession, especially when I see the bookstore beach-read section devoted to Austen spin-offs (in addition to the real literature).  As someone once told me, "Don't we all want to find Mr. Darcy?!" (I was lucky to find someone pretty darn close).  The girl finally gets the guy of her dreams, and then...

Right, what then?  We never find out. All of Austen's novels end right after the guy gets the girl (or the girl gets the guy).  There's adventure and intrigue involved in getting to the point, but then the reader assumes everybody lives happily ever after.

But as we all know, life is simply not that straightforward. Relationships are hard work; marriage is hard work; raising children is hard work; jobs are hard work.  And some of the time all that hard work isn't that rewarding.  A Mr. Darcy or a Mr. Ferris or a Mr. Knightley is not going to come riding up on his white horse to save us from any or all of this, nor would we really want these fictional heroes to do that. 

Instead, I am a firm believer that life is what we make of it (sometimes I have difficulty practicing what I preach).  If we dwell on the negative aspects (the things we want, but can't have; the things that aren't working out) then we will never be satisfied with what we do have; we will always be continuing to search for the perfect world that Austen's heroines seem to end up in.  If, however, we take a moment and realize all the things that are going well, then life becomes that much more beautiful.  Simply having a moment at the end of a hectic day to immerse oneself into a Regency-era English romance, or browsing through the local bookstore with a loved one, or tucking your children in at night; all are little reminders that each day is full of bright moments to cherish.

Turkey Day

We respectfully dispatched seven of our turkeys (5 toms and 2 hens) this morning with the help of some dear friends.  My darling husband awoke at 5:45 to start the fire outside which we would use to scald the dispatched birds before plucking.  Today was also the opening of hunting season, so there were fellow neighbors also outside experiencing the drizzly predawn chill.  I fed the other farm animals, but kept them inside the barns so that they could not see any of the processing (although they obviously still sense it, and with the gun shots from the hunters, they were understandbly uneasy all day).  By 6:30, as first light was just appearing over the hill, our friend Doug arrived to help.  By 7:05, we had captured the first bird with relative ease.  The sage of our hamlet and a dear friend, Jim, showed up moments later (he has had significant experience doing this) and helped with the slaughtering.  Jim's wonderful wife (and a second mother to me) showed up around 8:45 with pecan Belgian waffle batter, coffee and sausage (which was from the pigs we raised this past summer).  By 9:30, when we took a break for breakfast, I believe we had processed 4 of the birds completely; by 11:30 the birds were all bagged, and the processing area was cleaned up.

The well-dressed bird is so much smaller than the living specimen.  What I had assumed was 9-15 lbs, was actually  6-13lbs.  You have to hand it to the survival of the fittest for the "fluffing up" that the turkeys are able to exhibit when they feel under attack.  The last hen we processed in fact, was smaller than some roasting chickens (she was also the easiest to pluck)!  These turkeys actually look more like chickens because they are heritage breeds and not the double breasted variety.  Dark and white meat are even proportioned with heritage breeds so overall it's a moister, earthier flavor.  Furthermore, unlike the butterball variety which has been bred so that they become so top heavy and large that their legs literally cannot support them, heritage breeds are active and agile (if not particularly smart).   To jump back onto my food economics soapbox, it is impossible to raise a healthy turkey, be able to sell it for 90 cents/lb and make any money.  You do the math.  Where are the hidden costs lurking?  Your health?  The demise of the family farm?  The environment? You can find out more about heritage turkeys by checking out The Heritage Turkey Foundation or the Ark of Taste at SlowFoodUSA.  

Aside from the birds, the only casualty was a significantly scraped forearm on me due to a turkey claw.  One of the toms escaped between being taken out of the pen and put into the killing cone.  Using the small amount of brain power he had, he ran towards the back of the barn, and actually "recaptured" himself in the chicken netting.  I was able to grab him, but he scratched me in the process.  After some serious scrubbing with hot, soapy water and applying a layer of neosporin (expiration:  2005?!) I'm hoping there will be no infection (there are days when I wish I had a few broad-spectrum antibiotics lying around). 

I also learned that my soon-to-be sister-in-law (yay!) was also butchering turkeys today out in Montana.  Last time they used a mobile processing unit (would like to have one of those in the area!) but apparently, they were doing it the old-fashioned way today as well.

Of Dirty Living and Rent-a-Rams

I finished Radical Homemakers over the weekend, and I'm looking forward to reading The Dirty Life by Kristin Kimball, an author who left the hectic life of NYC to work and live on a farm in Essex, NY.  The general idea of removing oneself from the extractive economy and towards a productive economy is powerful in my mind.  Honestly, I looked at the painted plywood counter tops in my kitchen the other night from a whole new perspective.  My counter tops are certainly functional and they don't really look that bad.  In fact, unless I point it out, people don't tend to notice. 

Whether this can be attributed to merely reading a book, or the alternative healing treatments I've been receiving, or a midlife crisis, my whole philosophy on enjoying life is not-so-subtly shifting. 

A friend just mentioned that there is a movie out, Affluenza, which I look forward to seeing.  Apparently, its basic premise is that affluence has become a disease.  Again, Shannon Hayes does a much better job at illustrating this whole idea in Radical Homemakers.  People simply aren't considering the hidden costs to living by the philosophy of always wanting/feeling they need more, more, more.  They're so focused on the destination, that they forget about the journey.  Our children are also trained in this idea, starting from the very beginning of their formal education.  Get good grades so you can go to college, and be successful (make a lot of money?).  Today, kids are in it all for the grades, not for the learning and they readily admit this to their teachers.

On a lighter note, our rent-a-ram, George, arrived yesterday.  We're breeding Tess, and two half sisters (one is Rachel's daughter, Velma the other Tess' Velveeta; both born in 2009).  "Auntie" Rachel who failed to get knocked up last year, is spending some quality girl time with the two ewe lambs from this year, far, far away from George.  Hopefully, Tess, Velma, and Velveeta will throw twins. This will mean our flock may double in size next year, and our lamb/wool operation could significantly increase.