Henny Penny Farmette

My hubby and I took a much-need break from the farmette work  to celebrate the Fourth of July at the Alameda County Fair. The fair food smelled delicious (funnel cakes, tacos, burgers, barbecue, and baked goods). We’d already eaten a large lunch so we hurried to the grandstand to see the horses.

Where I grew up in rural Missouri, our horses were not as elegant looking as those beautiful race horses. Ours were draft horses, tall and strong and bred for pulling a hay wagon or doing other farm work. I felt a shudder of exhilaration as I watched those race horses take to the track and run like the wind.

Giant sunflowers in bloom in the Henny Penny Farmette vegetable patch

Friday and Saturday, we did more farmette chores. On Sunday, we attended a lovely “coming of age” celebration. The event was hosted by our Indian friends whose son and daughter had reached the age marking that milestone. Their son received his first dhoti (a male garment symbolizing his transition from boyhood to manhood) and their beautiful daughter wore for the first time a gorgeous silk sari accessorized with gold jewelry. The affair was presided over by the temple priest and involved the immediate and extended family. Although I chitchatted with everyone, I managed to taste almost every dish offered in the all-vegetarian Indian meal, which was yummy!

Next up on our July social calendar is hubby’s birthday. We so seldom have time off to just kick back and enjoy life that we are planning to relish his big day with a trip to the zoo, a sky ride to see the 360 degree-view of the Bay Area, and dinner at Sotto Mare in San Francisco’s North Beach neighborhood (great Italian seafood). We’d previously planned to take some time off to travel to Spain for this birthday, but he got four new jobs to oversee, ending all hope for that trip this year. Maybe next year.

Wild red plums make a tasty sweet-tart jam

Today is Monday and we’re back in the workday rhythm of our farmette. There’s a fence to put in so the chickens have a safer area to free-range, a shed that needs more waterproofing and shelves installed, and tons of plums and apricots to pick. These, I’ll dehydrate and make into jam. I’ve got to harvest honey and put supers on the hives, too, so it’s going to be a busy week.

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If you enjoy reading about gardening, farming, keeping of bees and chickens, along with a good mystery and some delicious recipes for home grown goodies, check out my Henny Penny Farmette series of cozy mysteries: A Beeline to Murder, The Murder of a Queen Bee, and A Hive of Homicides (available online or in bookstores everywhere).

Novel #1

Novel #2

Novel #3

My daughter dropped by for a girl’s day out at the county fair. Summer chores are endless so taking a day off riddled me with guilt–and guilty pleasure.

We strolled under ancient, white bark sycamore trees that towered 50 to 100 feet above us. The first thing we saw as we entered the arched fair-grounds gate were goat pens. The cute little milking goats drew us over, but the odor of mounds of fresh horse manure turned us away. We kept on walking.

We moseyed over to see the sheep with their docked tails (apparently sheep like to chew on the tails of other sheep, so docking the tails eliminates pain and suffering and is more hygienic). We thought the baby goats were adorable. We marveled at how the pigs appeared so pink, healthy and robust. We couldn’t help but stare at the massive bellies and large bags of the dairy cows.

Embarking on the path to the exhibit halls, we relished how cool it was inside, a veritable respite from the heat. We strolled down aisles of quilts, art by high school students, and displays of jewelry. Then it was time to check out the jams. The entries of strawberry dominated the competition, but some included jam made with fig, plum, or rhubarb.

During the dessert competition, pies, brownies, and cakes beckoned us to peer into the glass display shelves. My daughter lamented that she wished they were for sale, reminding us it was time to eat.

We passed on the roasted corn on the cob and cotton candy, choosing simple tacos and Pennsylvania Dutch-style funnel cakes. I washed my meal down with the hibiscus-flavored drink sitting next to a dispenser of white horchata while my daughter stuck with water.

Before we left the exhibit halls and animals, I wanted to see the chickens. That competition must have happened on a different day, so I wandered over to the peacock pens next to the pigeons, finches, and parakeets. The peacocks were lovely but there were no peahens.

We checked out the bunny cages (I didn’t know there were so many kinds of rabbits) and decided against even looking at the reptiles (I tend to dream about them once I see them–and snake dreams aren’t usually pleasant).

All that walking and sensory stimuli wore me out. By the time we arrived home in the late afternoon, I needed a nap. I thought a day off was supposed to rejuvenate you. Instead, mine had done me in, but the trip to the fair gave me gobs of ideas for my cozy mystery series.