November - Time to Hunker Down for the Winter

With Halloween in the rear view mirror, the last piece of miniature candy devoured, the floor littered with their tiny exoskeletons, it's time to settle in, pack on the winter weight and prepare to hibernate for a couple of months. Time to drag out all those little indoor projects that can be accomplished during the shorter days, days when energy is lagging, motivation and attention span is absent altogether. Or better yet, finally settle down to a marathon of movies you couldn't get to during the busy warmer months, snuggle on the sofa with a cup of coffee, a warm fluffy blanket, and a pile of books.

November and its darker days always mean sewing and odds and ends projects for the holidays. The bright studio lights make the short, darker days, less so.  

But not this year! The weather has been INCREDIBLE. No rain or snow, and temperatures much above normal, into the 70s for many days.  It took well into November for us to even see our first frost/freeze and we haven't seen many nights below zero at all.  So plans changed to take advantage of the extended outdoor season.

November 1st I was able to purchase two 7.5 pound cushaw squash for Halloween clearance price, as here they are used as decorations and not as food.  They are one of THE premier pie and eating squash on the market.  I snapped these two up for $2 each and took them home, seat belted into the front passenger seat of the truck like two orphans.  In years past, I have cut them in half, seeded, roasted, scooped the meat out, and simply froze the puree in bags. Last year, my Ziploc brand freezer bags leaked all over the freezer.  What a sticky mess.  It was time to change tactics and experiment.  This year I made the puree and then loaded the silicone sheets of the dehydrator and let it do its thing for a ridiculous number of hours. I then powdered the sheets and vacuum sealed the powder in jars.  From 15 pounds of squash I managed 1 qt of powder.  To re-hydrate, I simply add hot water to Tablespoons of powder until I get the consistency I want.

Another unexpected clearance find was at the hardware store. The heat apparently didn't put many in the decorating mood near the end of the month, and the plethora of mums left on display were showing signs of the one freezing night we had had, as well as just being tired, past peak bloom.  I had stopped at the hardware store for a new bolt, and saw one of those 4 foot square palette boxes in the parking lot greenhouse overflowing with pots of mums.  I asked the manager if they were headed for the distributor for credit, or if they were headed for the dumpster.  He said they were dumpster bound if I wanted them, it would save them room. DEAL!  I loaded up all my truck could carry. These were huge, in 10 inch pots and were about 18 inches across and mounded, every color imaginable.  I placed them on the brick wall at home and let them go to seed, harvested seed and trimmed them down to 3 inches.  The dormant plants I placed in the workshop to keep cool and watered through the winter for regrowth next spring, and the trimmings went to the front ditch where, HOPEFULLY, they'll self seed me some plants. 

Lots and lots of baking goes on this time of year, but as we are trying to behave a little more, I've cut back on that.  I did manage to finally perfect my soft, fluffy, bakery style, 100% whole wheat cinnamon rolls. Yes, I know, cinnamon rolls aren't healthy, but 100% whole wheat makes them a little better, plus after we all had one, I individually wrapped the rest and froze them for later.  That way we didn't eat the whole pan over two days.

More time outside meant more photography and painting this month too.  I cleaned my studio desk out and found some missing inks, and a second gorgeous paintbox from The Little Brass Box Company This one is filled with more earth tones for landscapes.  Miss MoneyPenny , bos #007,is my first box and is filled with primary brights, and is suited for all around painting. The newest box is #1007 and has been dubbed My Precious. Just look at those color samples. ::Drool:: These boxes are individually, handmade in true croft style, by one man, out of brass in the UK.  They are the ultimate gift for the serious hobbyist or professional artist. They are a lifetime purchase and are heirloom quality. I can't say enough about these amazing paintboxes or the workmanship that goes into each and every one of them. (not paid to say this.)

Along the lines of art, kind of, I'll move onto the sewing room.  The new giant cutting table has been a God send. (remember she's from a church LOL)  Having a huge table that if fully covered in cutting mat, that is the right height and I can move all around to work has been amazing.  I'm still working on the body double sewing dummy from bootstrap, kind of.  I finished the first one, made from pique knit, and the measurements are correct, but even as low stretch as the knit is, it is too soft.  I don't feel like the padding is solid enough to dress the dummy and get any quality support out of it.  The bustline also didn't look right and the shoulder height certainly wasn't.  SO back to the drawing board.  I redrafted the pattern and sewed it all over again with cotton duck cloth.  The zero stretch of duckcloth will allow me to stuff the dummy and achieve the correct measurements for draping garments. (no photos yet)

 

I also completed several holiday gifts which, I'll show in December, after they're opened.  No spoilers. haha.

On a trip to the little thrift store I purchased two wool coats for $4 each. Yes, that says FOUR dollars.  They were on clearance as no one wanted them for the month they had been on display.  They were both from the 50s, Edinburgh. Both were pristine, inside and out, but the thread holding them together had dry rotted.  I brought them home and deconstructed them for their wool, which I have been making mittens from.  I couldn't let that vintage Scottish wool go to the dump!

With glorious weather I also took the opportunity to finally install a clothesline.  I've wanted one since we moved here. I just didn't know where to put it.  I finally remembered that my great-grandmother had hers right out the backdoor, running along the sidewalk to her garage.  Deal.  Good enough for her, good enough for me.  Two 4x4x4s, 4 bags of concrete, two deep holes, and some paint later and, tada!, it's a clothesline. 

Of course with a new clothesline, I needed a pin holder.  My mom had one that was made from a small hanger and a baby dress of mine that was stitched across the bottom, it still hangs in her laundry room, unused.  For lack of usable baby clothing, I made my own. BACK to the sewing studio. I traced the hanger for the top part of the bag, and drew straight down and made box corners at the bottom.  I also lined the bottom with a piece of stiff cardboard.  The hole was traced with a saucer, and simply sandwiched between some thin bias tape, top stitched. A fast and easy project. 

November critter report

Suzie is finally as up to speed as she'll ever be. Her back knees will always be weak, when she pulls on a leash or slips, she just sits down. The downside is that her months of lower, recovery activity put the pounds back on, even with being on prescription fat dog, dog food.  So now she's on the same food with no treats, and even tinier rations.  A beagle on a diet is such a joy, but she's getting the hang of it. And with the lovely weather, she and I have been able to take ridiculously long walks to both the state park to check to make the sure squirrels are still up all the trees, and to snort down every ground squirrel hole in our own pasture.

The hens are finally in full molt, but the weather is warm.  Usually they are naked and pin cushions and braving freezing temperatures.  Here is Delmar, sporting a partially grown in, partially falling out hairdo.

With the lake still in liquid form, the bald eagles are still here fishing.  Here is a lovely one above the house, looking down at the laundry, fresh on the line.

The cattle are due to leave at the end of the month, or maybe in December with this weather.  This years calves look great, even Butterscotch.  This was a great herd, no escapes, and they only knocked the electric fence down once, at the end of the month, when the urge for sweet green grass (mine) was stronger than the voltage from the fence.

As for the noodle necks, they're doing their thing.  They eat, sleep, dust bathe, fight, sleep, and keep us constantly entertained. Their fleece is now at the mill and should be back by February.  I love this unfiltered shot.  The red maple was fully in its late Autumn colors when we finally froze.  It lost all its crimson coat in one morning.  We hope you are all well. Thank you for visiting again. Until December (Just WAIT until you see what follows me home in December.)

September snuck in and slipped out.

    It is astonishing how quickly the months and days fly by upon reflection, but each day, at the moment, seems to drag.  Days were filled to overflowing with canning, preserving, drying, and projects. It was a hodgepodge month to say the least.  Many tiny things that felt like they added up to nothing, but all contributed to the greater need to finalize summer.  As always, for everyone thing that was managed, two or more things seemed to get added to the 'to do' list.

   

The garden was still full of tomatoes at the beginning of the month, but it was quickly showing signs of disease, stress, and of just being plain tired. The beans had long since given up, and were trimmed at the ground to let the remaining pods dry on the vine for next year's seed.  The tomatoes were also cut off at the ground to allow all remaining energy to go to finishing any ripening on the vine. Any fruit that showed signs of redness, were sent to the ripening counter and placed under towels to finish before being processed into marinara sauce and canned.  I left the zinnias alone, even though they were being overrun with prairie weeds, as the migrating hummingbirds were using them as an evening resting place and refueling station. I couldn't bare to take that away from them.

The dirty dozen pullets are now going strong, and it is not uncommon for us to collect 14-18 eggs a day from the hen house. It's an incredible number for only 20 laying hens this time of year. 

We've had so many eggs that I have decided to scramble and dehydrate them for the freezer, when light levels drop too low this winter for them to lay.  I've heard they aren't great for re-hydrating and eating, but perfect as a 1:2 ratio for baking (egg water). So we shall see.

Speaking of hen house, a long awaited project was finally completed, which added another to the list, but allows me to move on with yet another needed project that had to be done in order.  The northeast window wing on the chicken run, which was previously like its mate on the southwest wall-a wood frame with a plastic roofing panel as the window covering, was long overdue for replacement.  There was nothing structurally wrong with it. However, during the winter it allowed far too much air exchange at the roof line and both the bottom and the ends had to be insulated to prevent snow and wind ingress.  The insulation was permanent for the winter, and didn't do a banner job of keeping out the wind or the snow. 

I came up with a better, permanent solution.  A plywood wall with inserted windows.  The windows can be opened when the day is nice, and closed when it's not.  They are covered in tiny hardware cloth to protect the birds from predators.  The center window does not open.  I may decide later to build small over hangs for rainy days, and the blaze of the summer sun.  We shall see.

That project had to be finished before the main event could even be measured for.  The lower run needs a new roof.  The underlayment on one corner, which was a scrap of common board, has rotten and needs replaced.  The shingles, which were purchased for $1 a bundle at Habitat, have dry rotted, and routinely blow off in a good storm. I'm tired of chasing them.  So a new steel roof will go on as soon as I measure and place the order.  Then we wait for a nice day to install it.  But that window wall needed done first so I could custom order the proper length for overhang at the end.  

Wet cool days crept in on occasion as well.  It was a dry month, and warm, but at least it felt like Fall.  The clouds came, but not much ever came from them.  Thunder chased the dog into her hiding spots a few mornings, but very little moisture accompanied all the flash and bang. 

Speaking of the dog.  She is healing well. She has her achy days, but who doesn't?  She has her final post-op check-up in early October, so here's hoping they clear her for long walks in the squirrel park.  She naps so well after those.

Chilly mornings of late September, mean the beginning of field harvest season is upon us.  The wildlife starts to move from field to field as the turkey hunters lurk about and the combines gobble up row after row.  The heavy fog this time of year sits just below us in the morning, hiding all but the tops of the tallest trees in the valley. As the sun slowly rises, the air warms and slowly begins to move, causing the fog to look like a giant blanket being fluffed across a giant bed by an invisible hand, it's top rolling and undulating in the dawn. 

The nights are clear, crisp and still allowing for amazing views of the Milky Way.

All of this signals apple season.  As our own trees let us down, yet again, I went up to Martin's as I do every fall, a jar of fresh jelly and a dozen eggs in tow in exchange for tree help and information.  I spend several minutes filling my apple basket with a couple of choice varieties, and head home to process them into apple butter.  The best apples go into the bottom of the climate controlled (moisture controlled) drawer of the refrigerator for snacking. 

My favorite variety from this orchard is the Rosalee.  A tart, and sweet, apple that is great for fresh eating, does not do long term storage well, nor is it a good baking apple.  So fresh it is, with all of its glorious juice dripping down your arm.

By the end of the month the garden has had it, and quite frankly, so had I.  I'm tired of tending, weeding, plucking, canning, begging and pleading.  It's tired and I'm tired.  I trimmed the grape back as far as I dared and gave the bits to the grateful noodle necks.  Any tomatoes that showed any sign of whiting, were picked, wrapped, and placed in a ripening box in order or current ripeness. These are checked weekly and when enough are red, are processed and canned.  I should be doing tomatoes until the end of October.  The dehydrator has been running most days. Did you know you can put 10 pounds of diced onions into a quart jar?!  So far we have dried mixed veg, yellow onions, white onions, spring onions, jalapeno peppers, apples, and celery.

The cattle next door are doing nicely and greet us when they come up the hill on their daily circuit of their grazing grounds.  We still cannot figure out how one had a butterscotch colored calf.  She's a white face and daddy is a black Angus, or is supposed to be.  Nope, he's not an albino, or pigment challenged.

He's butterscotch and lemon marked like a Holstein.  We figure a neighbor's bull must have jumped the fence at some point.  He's a pretty little thing.

Nothing left to do but finish out the month by spreading alpaca manure, gypsum, and chicken manure on all the garden rows and locking the gate behind me. Next year's garden has been planned and the seeds ordered and delivered.

See you in October!

 

August was a slow journey, but flew by.

 I still don't know how that happens. While we were experiencing August, every day slogged as slow as molasses in January, but upon reflection, was as busy as a hive before the first chill and flew by like that final weekend before school starts.

The storms were large, but coming at a much slower pace, requiring the irrigation system to aid in the watering. We were loosing more water through evaporation than was falling from the sky. Only on one evening, did a lovely cold front come through to give us a break from the dreadful humidity, and the dry air provided us a rare, clear view of the Milky Way in July.

August means the start of the fair season. Country fairs come first, but the thought of going in the heat and humidity was off-putting. I certainly had no plans to enter anything this year. I had already entered in our country and all adjoining counties (which is allowed in the rules) and won blue and red ribbons.  Between the challenge being old, the drive, and the weather, I was simply not in the mood this year.

Canning season was underway with a fury. The jar cabinet in the basement was bare, and there was always something in the pressure canner; beans, peas, beef, chicken, stew meats, corn, jellies, sauces, tomato sauce and purees.

Orange Jelly

The grapes came in finally towards the middle of the month and cooked up to the most lovely shade of rose jelly. It was then I had the brilliant idea to enter the State Fair, a four hour round trip. I dreaded that idea until I found out that I could mail my entry. Done.  I entrusted both a jar of the jelly and a jar of my plum duck sauce to the USPost.

More canning and Suzie filled my days of waiting.

Sometime in the month of July, Suzie managed to pull the tendon in her good back knee. In reality it wasn't good. The knee that she came to use with freshly repaired had been neglected so long by her previous owners that she weakened and wore out her other knee.  We still don't know how she did it, but she had surgery and was home on the same day, walking around and being pampered and drugged to the moon for three days, but wanting to play.  She was a little slower for a few days after that, but honestly almost back to her normal self within a week. Although we DO throttle her back and won't let her go on long walks or horse around like a crazy dog, yet. 

In the midst of the canning frenzy, there was, of course, a needed comedic moment. So again, enjoy at my expense.

I had spent the past week canning and have barely come up for air. I was getting 20 pounds of tomatoes every 2-3 days. The peas were done. The greenbeans were done. Plum sauce was done. And I was in in the middle of jelly. Chicken soup was done. Ground beef and stew meat was done. Chunk and shredded chicken was done. I still needed to do sweet corn (it's not quite ripe yet.) Beyond that it's just keeping up with the tomatoes until the frost kills them off. Then I'll just preserve up left overs as they come, spaghetti sauce and such.
Last night I did 10 quarts of chicken soup and this morning I noticed one didn't seal. So I wasn't thinking and dumped it down the drain. It was like that slow motion moment when you lock your keys in the car at the same time you are slamming the door shut. Ya. Shredded chicken down the drain. Of course it clogged the T-joint. I have to unclog it sooner than later, I have 40 pounds of tomatoes on the counter. I can't can without water. I have a cake to bake and dinner to do. SO.....

So here I am with 15 pounds of simmering grapes on the stove (it's a timed thing) and a sink about two inches deep in water, and I have to take the underside apart and clear it. grrrrr.

Then I take it apart only to find the 6qt bowl I've put under the plumbing isn't enough. SO NOW I'm sitting on the floor, with grapes simmering on the stove, a bowl filled to the brim dripping black chicken water onto the old towel I DID have the brains to put under the bowl, and using the flat of my hand to block the pipe from the garbage disposal. OK, NOW WHAT?! (Can you picture this?? It's funny as hell.)

My brain briefly pondered dumping the bowl in the sink. DUH, I can't lift it with one hand while my finger is in the dyke. and oh ya, that water would be going into the broken sink. OK NOW WHAT??? OK need another bowl, pot, anything. Hmmm... So now I'm holding back sludge with the flat of my right hand and turning my body around like some kind of sadistic version of Welcome to Adulting Twister, so that I can reach the pot cabinet opposite the sink on my left, you know the cabinet that holds all my CAST IRON POTS.

I can reach the knob to open the cabinet no problem, but I cannot reach the top of the slide out drawer to pull the 30 pound drawer of iron pots towards me to grab a 6 qt pot. So keeping my hand on the drain hole, I twist more and send my left foot around and up to the lip of the drawer. (God, I'm glad I'm still bendy.)The whole time the timer on the microwave is counting down to turn off the gas for the jelly juice. I snag the drawer, grab the big dutch oven and twist myself and it towards the sink again. Now where to put the damn thing? The other bowl is taking up the room I need and the garbage disposal is in the way. I have to hold the bowl with one hand long enough to get the other away from the hole, then I can two hand it. Geesh, what a smelly mess.get the whole thing drained, and the grey water (literally) dumped down the utility sink in the laundry, and clean the pipes, the cabinet and put the whole thing back together and sanitized. The timer on the jelly juice had 40 seconds to spare. I swept and mopped the floors and dealt with the juice.

What an adventure that was.

They boys took the month of July in stride. What else are they supposed to do?

They spent a lot of time lounging in the long cool grass in the evenings, their afternoons napping in front of the giant barn fans, and their mornings in their favorite shady spots chewing their cud. What a life,eh?

The garden was still plugging along although the tomatoes were struggling. The large hauls of the early weeks of August came to a screeching halt, and became a trickle. I would harvest anything orange or red before each storm to avoid splitting on the day after the rains. My counter top was covered in smaller and smaller piles of tomatoes ripening, awaiting the mill and the simmering pot. Although, I'm sure the men were happy to not come home every day to the house smelling of oregano.

A couple of the beefsteak tomatoes threw me a few giants, which Chris was more than happy to eat atop hamburgers, on salad, broiled with cheese,or simply sliced and salted on a plate.

One of the gorgeous Prairie Grasshoppers. These
are the same species that are known for the great
black plague of hoppers of the prairie lore. In great numbers
they were known to eat anything organic, including tanned
leathers on their march through the countryside. Luckily here, the 
hens keep their numbers in check. 

The literal heart of one of the giant tomatoes.

As the end of the month approached, so did the opening of the State Fair.  A weekday visit was out of the question, as the dog couldn't go too long without company or a trip outside. Doc would be home one the weekend, and while opening day Saturday would be in the humid 90s, and Sunday would be only in the
low 80s and dry, I chose Saturday as other shops I wanted to visit would be open. So off I went to enjoy a couple hours at the fair.  It was a quick trip and a blur but it was a nice outing. Imagine my surprise when I went to the Open Class exhibit hall and came across this!

The Catawba grape jelly from our
vines came in first place, and the plum
sauce came in fourth. I'm happy
with that!

Dewy, hot mornings are August's trademark.

The month of August decided to not end on a quiet note. The thermostat decided to die on the final Sunday morning of the month and no one could come to replace it's digital goodness until sometime on Tuesday.  No thermostat, no AC. Mother Nature having the sense of humour that she does, cranked up the heat and humidity on Monday to feeling like 105'F.  There was no wind at all, and I couldn't get the house cool. That night, with lightning in the distance, we slept outside on the deck, which was only a few degrees cooler than inside the house. We abandoned the deck about 1am when the lightning became too bright and the mosquitoes found us.  Joker that she is, the day the thermostat arrived, was breezy, gorgeous, and only 74 degrees. 

Deep In The Heart Of Tomato Season

Well it's finally happened.  I am officially up to my eyeballs in tomatoes!

Tomato plants are sneaky creatures.

You make sure their future home is rich in nitrogen, calcium, potassium, and toss in some rooting compound.

You plant them after the soil reaches 70 degrees, and then pray that you don't get a late, surprise chill.

You plant them deep, or laying down even, with just the tippy top leaves sticking out of the soil, the whole time apologizing to the once tall, lanky seedling, telling it, "you'll thank me later".

You spend the whole month of June, checking them for worm eggs, and leaf spot, and blight.  The stubby seedlings seem to mock you with each passing day despite your initial enthusiasm, which turns to begging, with then morphs into threats.

Late June finds you in the garden, buckets of fertilizer in tow, looking at scraggly knee high adolescent plants. You start to wonder if you should drag out the tie up strings, but then think against it.  Instead, you walk the rows, pinching off suckers and pruning.

July, and picnic season rolls around, and while the grocery store seems to have plenty of ruby red, ripe orbs, you have trouble even spotting a green marble.  Sigh...

Did I buy mutant, non-bearing, decorative plants?  Did I over fertilize?  Was it too wet? Too windy? Too cool?  Did I look at you wrong?  Was I singing off key? What do you want!? What!? Whaaaat!?

Then it happens.  You go out one morning and suddenly they're 3 feet tall and you find yourself running out of string for tie-ups.  Then they're 4 feet tall and you're looking for old t-shirts to shred and turn into more tie-ups. Green orbs and pear-drops are everywhere!  You look to the sky and and say "please no hail this year, not this year." And the hail passes you by (well, mostly).  The daily routine of walking the garden and pruning is now habit.  Your eyes dart to and fro looking for pests to throw to the giddy hens who so eagerly wait outside the garden fence, their voices high with excitement they pace back and forth for a tasty tidbit.  Worm after worm flies over the fence top, and are happily dispatched.

By the end of July, your daily mosey through the rows, becomes an expedition.  You start to wonder if you should have purchased the giant roll of twine instead of the single.  You begin to consider a pith helmet and a machete purchase from Amazon.  You add a black light flashlight to your arsenal to find the greedy hornworms and brown eyed tomato moths at night when they come out to devour whole plants and fruit while you sleep. The deep green fruit is becoming lighter, and lighter, until one morning......

There she is! Is it? Yes, it IS! Your first red tomato.  You can hardly believe it.  The unforgiving heat and humidity of August, which is the 7th level of Dante's inferno to all other living things, is the very weather the tomato plant lives for.  You pluck your treasure and take it inside.  Some consume this first prize warm and dusty right there in garden.  Was it an apple that tempted Adam? Or was it a Tomato, fresh from the vine?  Others carefully coddle their Precious close to their breast, hiding it from view of the hens, the neighbors, and even hovering spy satellites to gently wash it and place it on the counter.  It's thick red hide glistening under it's perfect green top hat as you contemplate it's demise.

The first week of August provides you enough for a salad and some beefy cuts on a roast beef and bagel sandwich.  Slow and steady wins the race they say, but this is silly. You find yourself addressing the entire garden, tapping your foot as you spray them with their weekly dose of food.  "This simply will not do!" Your pep talk comes out loud, unrelenting, and unforgiving, yet understanding.  You don't even care that passing bicyclists and walkers are listening in.  The troops MUST be told what is expected of them, what they can accomplish, and what their reward will be. (Although I don't know how much of a reward it is to them to be cut up and dropped in a pot, but it is their destiny.)  Patton would be proud.

The troops rally.  By the second week of August you're taking a small bucket to the garden in the morning to harvest.  By the end of the week the bucket has turned into a strong box.
  By the third week, the box has turned into a lug.  Processing tomatoes is turning into a twice a week project.






Almost ripe tomatoes are picked and covered with dark towels on every flat surface in the kitchen to prevent them from splitting after the overwhelming summer downpours.  The poundage tally board keeps climbing; 20 pounds, 40 pounds, 65 pounds, 110 pounds, up and up it goes.

The canning recipes come out and the pressure canner becomes a permanent resident of the kitchen stove top.  Pasta sauce (with and without meat), pizza sauce, ketchup, bbq sauce, and tomato soup, it's all fair game.  As of this posting, the garden as blessed us with 185 pound of tomatoes.  I planted indeterminate tomatoes, so barring hail, wind, blight, fungus, locust or plague we'll keep going until frost, which is usually about October 3-7th.  Even then, I'll work before the frost to harvest any and all light green tomatoes and put them up in the basement for further ripening, which usually nets me another 40 pounds after frost.  It is a crazy work load, that gets insanely tiring by the end of August, but in the dead of Winter, with the North winds howling, popping open a quart jar and hearing that familiar hiss of the seal breaking on a jar of your own tomato soup, is comfort food at its very best. It's the fuel that simmers the fire of the endless planning, blood, sweat, tears, bug bites, sunburn, and manure under the fingernails that the summer season brings. That warm bowl of soup helps set in motion the gardening amnesia that allows you to do it all over again, and again, and again.

That said, here is my recipe for Tomato Soup.  ( I have taken to canning tomato puree made with my KitchenAid puree attachment, which removes the skin and seeds and core and leaves me with nothing but juice and meat in the bowl.  I can do more at a moments notice with puree and I'm not stuck with too many of any one finished product at the end of the season.  So the majority of my processed tomatoes go into cooked down puree.)

• Simple Tomato Soup
• 3 cups chopped white onion (or one LARGE onion)
• 1 tablespoon minced fresh garlic (about two large cloves) OR 1/2 teaspoon of garlic POWDER
• 3 cups water, divided
• 1 quart (32 ounces) of either your crushed (no skins, no seeds) tomatoes  OR 1 quart of skinless, seedless tomato puree 
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano or Italian Seasoning
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt - NO IODINE salt 
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
• 1-3 teaspoons of granulated white sugar, divided
• and have some baking soda handy.

In a three to four quart pot, toss in your onion and about a half a cup of water, and cook at medium to medium high heat,  until the onion is translucent.  At this point, add your garlic and cook for about one minute, stirring to prevent the garlic from scorching.  Add the remaining water, the tomato product of your choice, the oregano/Italian seasoning, salt, pepper, and ONE Tablespoon of the sugar.  Mix and lower the heat and bring to a simmer for 15 minutes.  I then take an immersion blender to make it a homogeneous, smooth soup.

At this point it comes down to personal taste. And you will need to take this in stages, and just don't dump things in all at once.  Each batch of tomatoes, even canned from the store will vary - some are sweeter, some more or less acidic.

If it tastes too metallic- add a little more of your reserved sugar, mix and cook another 5 minutes and taste again.

If it is too acidic - add 1/8th of a teaspoon of baking soda.  It WILL fizz as you mix it in.  Wait another 5 minutes and taste again.  

You can also add more of any of the seasonings to include more onion (in the form of powder), more garlic (in the form of powder) or any of the seasonings above. 

EVERY batch will require a different amount of everything and every person has a different idea of how it should taste.

SO make it yours! Serve with toast, or an ooey gooey grilled cheese sandwich.  Sprinkle it with parmesan cheese and croutons or a flotilla of oyster crackers!

But most of all, sit down with a seed catalog and a notebook and start planning!