A saucy post!

I had a bunch of tomatoes from my CSA and realized that I needed to make sauce.  There was nothing better throughout the past year to pull out a frozen package of my "garden sauce," and that has fueled my desire to make sure I have plenty on hand for the upcoming long months of no garden fresh anything.  But 12 tomatoes do not really make a whole lot of sauce, so I jumped in my trusty Jeep and headed to the local farm, praying that they would have loads of heirloom tomatoes that I could turn into sauce.  They did!

Excellent.  As I drove home, with the sun blazing down on me, I realized that I never did follow through with the pact I made myself to wear a hat while driving topless in the jeep.  Or in the garden.  Or anywhere, for that matter.  My poor face has been tanned pretty much since March, when I was in Florida, and while the deep tan comes and goes, the sunburns have popped up from time to time, the last being quite a good one that I received while sailing.  Oh, I put on a hat, eventually, but that was ripped off my head by the whipping wind of Buzzard's Bay, and alas, I was once again, hatless.  Which I obviously prefer.

As I drove, (yes, with the sun blazing down on me!) it occurred to me how ridiculously excited I was about creating a big batch of sauce!  For the first time ever, the garlic, peppers and onions will come from my garden, and while I planted a ton of tomato plants myself, that damned horn worm bested me yet again.  I really was hoping to make my very own garden sauce, but then again, I thought, as I drove and screamed to the song on my iPod, if I had had my own tomatoes I wouldn't have had the chance to drive to the farm and then chat with the women who work there, who of course asked why I was purchasing a multitude of tomatoes.  They both got wistful looks on their face when I said I was making sauce, and both said they didn't really have anyone to make sauce for.  I said, but what about yourselves?  And they kind of shrugged and said, well, I suppose ... but I get it.  If I lived alone, I wouldn't make sauce.  I wouldn't really care about cooking, I would just chop up a few tomatoes and eat those for dinner.  But they've had their time for sauce making, they both chimed in on their favorite recipes and experiences.  This is my sauce making time, and I am okay with it.  No, that's not right, I am deliriously happy about making sauce!  And this is the way it goes, as a hormonal, peri-menopausal woman.

Who, while screaming out loud to the music, with the sun blazing upon her, realized she was going to be very screwed with all of the sun exposure.  And that just made me laugh, because why the hell does everything that feels right and good have to be bad for you?  Screw it, I say, to which of course I laughed again, because that has pretty much been my mentality for most of my life.

All of these meandering saucy thoughts brought me back to the chickens.  I have been letting them free range for the past few weeks, and of course, they quite enjoy it.  But when we leave, I feel compelled to put them back into their run, and for the past two days, Maddie, Charlie and I have put on quite a show trying to wrangle them up, with someone yelling and chasing them and the other two trying to act as blockers.  Kind of crazy, but it makes me wonder, why am I bothering?  When I am home, it's not as though I keep an eye on them.  They are out there, fending for themselves, and really, what could I do if something happened?  Probably not much.  And why do I worry about something happening?  Because I did all of that reading because I was so sure I didn't have the capability to raise chickens on my own, and in the end, I realize, of course I can!  They are birds with very little brain capacity, and I happened upon a blog where a woman said just that.  Alas, a blogger who gets that the entire world isn't against letting their chickens run free!  (Quite a few people let fear run their lives, and I do realize this, but I also see how easy it is to vibe into that.  You should have seen us building their run!  I was determined to keep lions and tigers and bears out, at any cost!)  And now, they run free!  They wandered out to the side of the road the other day and I went out and chased them back.  And of course, they went right back, and I thought, well, I'm not going to fence the entire yard!  It's a bit of letting your chickens live their own lives, I suppose, but what I really want to believe is that they are going to be fine.  I heard a sound in the lower field the other morning, and saw a few turkeys, and I thought, okay, there are always turkeys in the lower field, as well as predators of turkeys, and yet, there are still turkeys!  Is it completely naive to believe that I live in a charmed piece of land where little animals can survive?  I have a cat who has been with us well over ten years, and he spends most nights outside.  In other words, I worry and try to turn it into of course there is no reason to worry~!

And then I say, screw it, they will be fine!  And if they're not, they're not.

In truth, it's like not wearing a hat.  I'm going to find out sooner than later what that's going to cost me!  But screw the piper, he's not getting into my pockets!  Those chickens are gleeful when they run outside, they flap around and sing in their little chicken voices, and a life led in happiness has to beat a lifetime of safety in an enclosure.

In fact, I am sure of that.