Ordinarily we wait until just before Christmas to bring home a tree, mostly because no one is around during the week to water it. This year, however, there seems to be a Christmas tree shortage. According to The Wall Street Journal, this is not the result of supply chain interruption but rather the long tail of Christmas tree growers leaving the business after the 2007-08 recession. It takes about twelve years to grow a Christmas tree.
Trying to get ahead of this, we visited Saltsman’s Christmas Tree Farm, a local favorite just outside the village, but they had only fifteen sad trees remaining. We got this one at Phantom Gardener on Route 9, which caters to weekenders — and where, if truth be told, we’ve gotten nearly every previous Christmas tree. At right you can see the gnomish Christmas tree lot attendant who once again regaled us with his story of when, as a neophyte tree wrangler, he accidentally imprisoned a family in their car by roping the tree through the windows rather than the doors.
Even Norman Rockwell might have been horrified by the amount of food we had at Thanksgiving this year, including a 21.5 lb. turkey, five pies (apple, pecan, pumpkin, hickory, and coconut), and three kinds of cranberry sauce (not readily distinguished from one another). We had Rinda, Erica, Lew, Geoff, Julie, and Stacey visiting, two of whom are vegetarians and therefore not helpful with the turkey.
Sarah gamely hoisted the aforementioned turkey when we picked it up Wednesday from Frank Vosburgh at Kesicke Farm.
The kitchen was a beehive of activity as we worked to produce the two cups of shelled nuts required for hickory pie.
Here’s a drone’s-eye view of our freshly mown hayfield courtesy of the equine photographer for the Landsman Kill Trail Association’s Fall Hunter Pace, which rode through our place Sunday.
Mid-October is quite late to make hay, but we’ve had a very wet season. Herb Stickle and his fleet of Ford tractors (seen here with bailer, tedder and mower attached) cleared out our hayfields this week.
Herb said he made about eighty round bales.
Here is a rare image of our interior swamp, in the woods between our two northernmost hayfields. It’s looking quite pond-like these days.
It’s remarkable how many opportunities we have to improve our roofing situation.
In this shot from the dumpster, you can see the original roof sheathing stenciled “James, R. Bourne, Rhinebeck, N.Y.” Bourne, a Democrat who lost a 1950 Congressional bid, hosted Eleanor Roosevelt in what is now our living room. Back to the cottage, the story is that when the 1916 two–story farmer’s house burned down in 1939, it was replaced by a one-story Sears kit house. The stencil is consistent with that story — you can also find it on the joists in the basement, and it’s typical of kit houses. But I haven’t been able to identify a Sears house that matches the cottage. It seems closest to a Cape Cod model, but who knows.
Today is the day to drop off culinary entries for the Dutchess County Fair. Jen, the defending champion in the marmalade category, entered four categories of jam. We are hopeful for a successful defense of her title.
This weekend we had a visit from Lauren Ballback, Babysitter Emeritus to Sarah, and now counsel to the U.S. Secret Service.
She was accompanied by Hamilton, who, on his most recent visit, dug a rather treacherous hole in the lawn. He was better behaved this time.
Jen gathered a handful of pin cherries on our walk today. Last night we had a surprise visit from Erica and Geoff, on their way from Maine back to Brooklyn, so Daisy is in especially high spirits.
