Freshly hand-cut spruce boards |
Bad weather overhead, no flying |
The life of erstwhile city slickers, now telecommuters in a remote log cabin raising chickens, ducks, rabbits, and bees, making beer and wine, and raising vegetables and berries.
Freshly hand-cut spruce boards |
Bad weather overhead, no flying |
Please find my most recent post here, about how to build an outhouse: https://survivalblog.com/2023/10/01/build-outhouse-mrs-alaska/
The following photos are of our two outhouses. The one with the moon and moose paddle door handle is the new one. The other one was built in about 2009.
I am honored to have it featured on SurvivalBlog.com, which, every day, offers informative articles of interest to people who want to live intentionally, and self-reliantly. It includes product reviews, recipes, historical anecdotes, snippets of news from the Redoubt states, and a huge variety of articles, including interesting interviews with people who have "bugged out" to rural locations and describe the strengths and weaknesses of their preparations (See "Owner Retreats" section). If you are interested in the content of my blog, I recommend www.survivalblog.com to your attention.
Find my book for $5 on Kindle here, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZN1FZR9/ref=sr_1_1
Sadly, 2023 was “the summer that wasn’t.” The Land of the Midnight Sun was, instead, the Land of the Midnight Rain and Mid-day Rain. One friend quipped that his location only had three rains - but one lasted 28 days! In fact, local weather reporters said that this has been the coolest summer since 2008. The temperature was not as much of a problem as all the rainy and overcast days. For us, I think the longest stretch of consecutive, sunny days was 4, and those were few and far between.
For someone who tries to raise a lot of our
own food, this was a sad state of affairs. My vegetable gardens were pretty
much useless. Seeds, seedlings, and
bulbs rotted in the ground, and those that grew were leggy and thin. Cauliflower and broccoli never set
heads. Sunflowers never flowered. Even the plants protected from rain in the
greenhouse, were underwhelming.
Fortunately, though, 6 different herbs did well on a covered
porch, so I dried or infused them in cooking oils and we harvested GALLONS of
berries which love this ecosystem in sun or rain. Yea!
Our manual food mill |
In addition to enjoying the wild berries, I have planted many
others, such as haskaps, red, white, and black currants, raspberries,
saskatoons, gooseberries, and strawberries. I enjoy their flowers, foliage, and of course, the tasty fruit, which range from sweetest (saskatoons and strawberries) to tartest (currants and cranberries). All of them are chock full of vitamins and anti-oxidants.
By various preservation methods, we enjoy them throughout the year. Those without big seeds are the easiest to use. Some, I freeze whole, to pop into pancakes, pies, or muffins or snow ice cream in winter. Others I store in vinegar. Most I pressure can for shelf stable juice, jam, jelly, chutney, and other concoctions, like barbecue sauce (See recipe below).
About a gallon of currant juice |
Domestic raspberries spread as prolifically as their wild brethren. My original 15 canes now fill 4 rows, about 14 feet long, each, plus scattered other plots, plus all the canes I have given away to friends or yanked out of adjacent gardens that they invaded. We harvested about 6 gallons and finally stopped because the rain battered the remaining fruit. We use this bountiful harvest in various ways. Bryan recently made a batch of beer with 5 lbs of raspberries. I add some to a batch of pinot noir (that I make from a kit of concentrated pinot noir juice - Fontana brand, about $69 to make 6 gallons). I make many jars of spicy barbeque sauce this time of year with one berry or another. This year: raspberry.
None of the currant recipes I find on line seem to bother about the many seeds, but the variety we planted has lots of them for the size of the berry, and since they are bigger than raspberry seeds, I do not like them in a final product. High-bush cranberries, too, have a large, flat seed. So both of these berries I process into juice, syrup, or jelly, netting 4:1 yield – that is 4 gallon of fruit yields 1 gallon of fruit.
The procedure of separating the fruit from the seeds involves several steps, several counter tops, and makes a mess, so I prefer to harvest many gallons over several days, freeze them, and then set aside several hours to process the fruit, and then pressure can it.
Red currant bushes |
Our food mill came with several grinders, each with different sized holes with helpful usage labels like “salsa”, “berries” and “apples.” However, we found that the “berry” grinder cannot handle the seeds of the cranberries and currants. They clog the mechanism to a full stop, which we then have to dismantle, clean, and reassemble. A MESS. So we use the “salsa” grinder which does not clog, but allows a lot of seeds to escape into the juice bowl. Now what? After I process the fruit, I pour the seedy juice through the large cheese cloth lined colander in the sink. Then I squeeze out as much of the juice as I can into the pot. When I have hens, I feed them the pulp and seeds. When I don't, I dump them in a location where a future bush might be a pleasant addition. Major clean up of sink, table, floor, pots, bowls, and mechanisms ensue.
When I have accumulated about 2 gallons of juice, it is time to pressure can it in order to make it shelf stable for future enjoyment or for gifts. For my size canner, I sterilize 7 quarts or 14 cups of glass mason jars in hot water in the pressure canner while heating the juice on another burner. I ladle hot juice into hot jars, screw the lid onto the canner, and process for about 15 minutes. Easy. If I want to make jam or jelly, I mix a 1:2 ratio of sugar to juice and bring to a gentle boil, cooking it down to thicken it. With a candy thermometer, I endeavor to get the temperature to about 220 F. If all goes well, the mixture will thicken into jam. If not, I have fruit syrup. What’s not to like? I also enjoy drinking the sweetened juice hot or cold.
When I was a single mom, I looked at those small, expensive plastic containers of berries with envy. On occasions when I bought one or two, my boys and I devoured them in a minute. I feel so fortunate now, to live in a setting where so many delectable berries grow so prolifically… even in such a cold and dreary summer, when little else did.
RECIPE: SPICY BARBEQUE SAUCE WITH BERRIES
I make this is large batches. The recipe below is for a small batch, in case you would like to try it out and tweak it for your tastebuds.
Beer: 1 cup
Vinegar: 1 cup
Molasses: 1 cup
Berries: 1 cup of mashed raspberries or 1 cup of currant or cranberry juice (Blackberries would be good, too)
Tomato paste: 1 6 oz can
Chipotle in adobe sauce: 1 pepper, chopped, and a tablespoon or so of sauce
Add herbs and spices of choice. I add coffee and cloves to “darken” the flavor, several cloves of garlic, and chili powder.
Enjoy.
Find my book for $5 on Kindle here, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZN1FZR9/ref=sr_1_1
Please see my most recent post here, in which I calculate the cost of electricity, water, mail, and other utilities that we had to build for ourselves 40 miles from the nearest road in Alaska.
I am honored to have it featured on SurvivalBlog.com, which, every day, offers informative articles of interest to people who want to live intentionally, and self-reliantly. It includes product reviews, recipes, historical anecdotes, snippets of news from the Redoubt states, and a huge variety of articles, including interesting interviews with people who have "bugged out" to rural locations and describe the strengths and weaknesses of their preparations. If you are interested in my blog, I heartily recommend www.survivalblog.com to your attention.
Find my book for $5 on Kindle here, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZN1FZR9/ref=sr_1_1
You might think that the Alaska state sport would be hockey, but I would argue that it is dog mushing. The most famous race is the 1000 mile long Iditarod the first weekend of March, but there are many other shorter, qualifying and alternative races, too, that we all follow. Conversations buzz with references to favorite mushers and favorite dogs. My husband and I live in an area of many competitive and recreational dog mushers as well as long time volunteers who help out at the races.
A Jr. Iditarod racer and volunteers on our frozen lake |
The Junior Iditarod race, for teenagers, used to pass right in front of our cabin. It was fun to a teen on a sled, pulled by a team 10 or 12 dogs, each wearing fabric booties to keep ice from forming between the toes.
One of the state heroes is a dog, Balto, who was supposedly the lead dog delivering life-saving diphtheria medicine from Nenana to Nome back in 1925. Some impresario bought him, showed him at fairs outside the state, and then the dog lived out his dotage at the Cleveland Zoo. A statue of him resides in, of all places, New York City.
In Alaska, several dog mushing operations offer tourist activities. We have friends who work for one near Willow, AK. One of their duties is to take tourists on woodsy excursions by ATVs in summer and sleds in winter, both pulled by a team of strong dogs. (You might be surprised by their size. Mushing dogs, like huskies, are mid-sized, not mastiffs.)
A dog oriented-culture is surely true for most trans-polar regions. Dogs were cheaper to feed and more successful in the cold than horses and mules to haul supply loads and people through heavy snow before the engines. And heck, the warmth and companionship of dogs are welcome during long cold winters, too.
Sometimes we fly to town with Buddy, secured in a dog crate that fits neatly behind the two seats in our little Piper floatplane. He does not like being cooped up, so we always ensure something fun for him upon arrival. First we explore the leafy foliage along the lake where we dock. Then, treat of treats, we drive to one of the many stand-alone coffee kiosks. EVERY ONE offers a treat to accompanying dogs when “their people” order.
Buddy on the kayak's bow |
In anticipation, Buddy jumps into Bryan’s lap, and looks expectantly out the window at the server as though to say “Whatcha got for me?” Most offer dog biscuits but one gave him a plate of whipping cream with a slice of bacon. Our dog practically crawled out the window to move in with that guy!
In towns and outlying areas, we see people with their dogs in every form of conveyance – trucks, planes, rowboats, motor boats, canoes, sleds, ATVs, RVs, and running along with bicyclists and joggers. A number of stores, like Sportsman’s Warehouse, and of course, Pet Zoo, allow dogs inside. Some restaurants allow them at outside seating. I was surprised to encounter a pizza-making craft beer bar with a big fenced yard that did not. Seems like a missed opportunity.
Many people take their dogs to work, especially at “Mom and Pop” businesses. Most of the air taxis have a dog on the tarmac or dock. I have seen pooches lazing behind the counters of a hardware store, a retail shop, and a car repair place, among many other locations. One Veterinarian who was a private pilot made his living by flying out to remote lodges and dog races to care for animals on site. When he retired, he sold his plane to a friend of ours.
Some dogs are beautifully trained to retrieve water fowl for hunters and help with moose hunting. In the past, some dogs were trained to tree bears, but I do not know anyone here who uses that tactic.
What I do NOT see are small dogs. An Alaskan would not be caught dead carrying a tiny dog in a purse or pouch. Up here, we call those “eagle bait.” Interestingly, I have not seen any labelled service dogs either.
When we get together for picnics with human friends, they often bring their dog pals, too. For the latter, I bring some of our homemade dog treats (basically unsweetened peanut butter crackers).
In state parks, it is a rule that dogs must be leashed. Some people want to let their pups run free, but this can be hazardous. If a dog encounters a bear and then runs back toward his people, the running triggers the prey instinct in the bear, who will give chase towards the owner! Similarly, if a loose dog disturbs a cache of food hidden by the bruin, the big guy could be resting nearby and roused to fiercely defend the carrion he was saving for a future meal.
Fortunately, where we live, on a remote lake with a population of 4, Buddy lives a leashless life. He jumps in the lake when he is hot or thirsty, and wanders the property, darting after birds and toads. Because he has seen moose and bear close up through screened windows, he is alert to their scents. We hope he will be a good warning system when dinner is approaching through the woods. The next day, humans and canines will enjoy bear or moose steak on the grill, with a little blue cheese butter drizzled on top.
I have read descriptions of birds luring predators away from their nest of eggs or fledglings by feigning a broken wing or leg, but, until yesterday, I had never witnessed this.
Swans on our lake most of the summer |
In this case, the duck paddled back and forth in short stints, but inexorably drawing Buddy deeper into the middle of the lake. Occasionally, she fluttered mere inches above the water. Her behavior was abnormal, so we wondered if she was hurt.
However, when she reached some particular point in the middle of the 1/2 mile wide lake, she soared off to the east, clearly a capable flyer. Buddy slowed, disappointed, and headed toward the western shore. At that point, we turned our kayak around to retrace our path home. As we did, we saw two, small, fluffy fledglings paddling as fast as their little webbed feet could go, from the shore grasses where their mother had launched her charade. What a clever and effective ruse to distract the Labrador Retriever.
A few days later, Buddy encountered water fowl with an entirely different strategy.
Three trumpeter swans were resting on the far side of the lake, shining bright white against the green landscape. When Buddy spied them, he slowed, trying to figure out what they were because they were SO BIG and stationary. ((Factoids: Trumpeter swans are the heaviest flying bird in the world, and one of the longest: about 40 lbs, 5 - 6 ft long, with a wing span of 6 - 8 ft. What are male and female swans called? Inquiring minds ask. Answer: cobs and pens. Who knew?)
After they glided out into the water, he followed
them at a pensive distance. They commenced
their loud, distinctive trumpeting calls that extend long distances and echo
off the surrounding mountains.
Apparently, they were calling for reinforcements, because two more flew
in from the twin lakes behind our property, forming an intimidating platoon before
the naïve dog. These large and imperious
birds did not bother to fly away from Buddy.
With their strong legs and big webbed feet, they paddled just out of his
range, exhausting him as he swam around them for 10 – 15 minutes. Tuckered out, he decided to leave them alone,
and head to shore, after which he had to run a longer perimeter than usual to
return home. This was a good lesson for
him, because swans can be mean and have been recorded as drowning people that
got too close, and surely other mammals, too. In subsequent days, as the three swans slid past the dock in front of our house, Buddy watched with interest, but made no motion to follow them.
Our dog certainly sleeps well after these outings. What does he dream about? Probably, “I almost caught her…”
RECIPE: FRUIT SHRUB
a shrub is an old fashioned drink, popular when potable water was not always available.
1:1:1 ratio of juicy fruit (or rhubarb), sugar or honey, and a gentle vinegar (like apple cider/white or red wine/rice). If you use stronger white vinegar, use less of it.
Heat a pot of fruit and honey into a syrup. Let that marinate in the refrigerator for several days. Then add the vinegar. Taste after several days. Adjust the proportions.
The vinegar should add a tang, but the dominant flavor should be the sweet fruit.
This is refreshing as is or as an addition to still or sparkling water, wine, or vodka.
Just as in salad dressings or other preparations, vinegar has health benefits in consumption. This is another version.
(The prior article focuses on the Breakup's lake ice and water fowl. This one focuses on rapid changes on land).
Breakup, our term for spring, is FAST.
After a long winter, the snow melts several inches a day in April and May, leaving increasing spaces of muddy soil shaped by serpentine tunnels of voles (meadow mice) and punctuated by 8 months of dog poop. A Southern relative asked me why I wait until spring to pick it up. Why not do so every day? Perhaps she has not spent much time in snow. Warm excretions sink through soft snow. So in spring, we find the scat of moose, coyotes, spruce hens, and our dog, Buddy.
Note how red the calf is. The cow blends into the spruce trunks. |
I shovel his winter poop into four small, galvanized bucket loads and dump it beneath a tree at the edge of our woods, in a low spot behind the berm that edges the lake so it will not defile that water source. On our muddy paths, we find the distinctive oval tracks of 1000 pound + moose along side branches of new cranberry growth snapped off as tasty snacks by these hungry, herbivorous ungulates. It is usually not until early June that we open the curtains in the morning to see a cow munching bushes a few feet away, with one or two gangly little calves nursing beneath her big belly. I look forward to that.
In early May, we harvested about 20 gallons of birch sap before the leaves emerged, but the sap turned milky (bad) fast, and my effort at birch sap wine molded. By mid-May, the first flowers are always those of wild currants, their small and modest mauve and white flowers emerging above snow covered root stock. By the end of May - only two weeks after the yard was mostly covered with snow, I harvested dandelion leaves, flowers, and fireweed shoots for our first fresh salads, accompanied by biscuits flavored with citrusy larch tips. Far less useful growth is the wild sweet grass that reached shin height in a week which, if left alone, would ascend to 6 feet by July and flop over and strangle all plants nearby. So, an urgent, annual spring task of mine, while growth is emerging so quickly, is to weed whack tough, spiny devil’s club, wild raspberries and the wild grass over 7 days, one hour per day to make space and sun for more desirable opportunistic plants.
Birch sap tap |
Why raspberries, you might ask? Who doesn’t like raspberries? Here, they grow in thick stands through underground runners as well as animal and
bird spread seeds. The dense growth is
not allopathic chemically, but physically.
They deter any other plants except nettles and grow tall enough to
entangle the branches of nearby shrubs and saplings. (Elsewhere, we grow five rows of domestic raspberries for fruit)
To reduce the population, I have to use a weed whacker blade to cut through dozens of canes per square yard the first year, after which I can shift to a weed whacker line for several more years. This multi-year effort opens up space for more desirable ground cover to naturalize. It delights me to see the dappled shade beneath birch and spruce populated by graceful ferns, white dwarf dogwood and starflower, pink prickly rose, (which is related to raspberries), and the wild currants, which tumble over and around spruce stumps.
I love my first morning sniff of the outdoors as soon as new
growth emerges. Every day smells sweet,
and different, as a succession of plants come into leaf or bloom. Even the sweet grass, as the name suggests, and alder leaves have a delicious scent.
As I look through the windows of our log cabin, and walk up and down our paths through the property, I enjoy the evolution of two rather large and tangled rose gardens, and large expanses of “lawn” lovely all summer with white starflower and dwarf dogwood as well as domestic strawberries that naturalized into a ground cover along the lake shore.
My weeding efforts generate not only beauty but food and habitat. I increase the number of cranberries I harvest from those pretty shrubs for juicing every fall. The rose bushes grow nearby, where I gather petals for salads and hips (the fruit that follows the flowers) for vitamin C additions to winter teas. Those little spruce and birch grow slowly for about the first 6 years and after that about 2 feet per year, for shade and windbreaks for us, and habitat and food for birds and martens.
This successional development of plants has developed into an enduring interest for me. Although I rather ruthlessly cut raspberries and devil’s club to the ground, I weed whack the wild grasses several inches above, in order to scrutinize what wants to grow here or there if given some sun and space. I wander slowly with a roll of blue flagging tape, leaning down to mark tiny spruce and birch, as well as other slow growing, desirable plants. My goal has never been a suburban lawn of grass. I love the wild plants – but I admit to favoring the ones I extol here vs the invasive growth of alder, devil’s club, and sweet grass, which I endeavor to reduce, but not eradicate, in number and influence.
My newly published book can be found here: https://www.amazon.com/Log-Cabin-Reflections-Off-Grid-Homestead-ebook/dp/B0BZN1FZR9/ref=sr_1_1 I hope that you enjoy it!