It’s 9:00 PM.

I’m just in from putting an electric fence around my meat birds.  They live in field houses that I drag around the pasture.  A weasel is getting in. Four birds in four days.

Tired and trying to find something for dinner.

House is empty. Kids are at their Mom’s.

I have a large bowl of black currants that I picked yesterday.  What the heck am I going to do with a bowl of currants? And when am I going to do it?

I might as well attempt an assault on Mt. Washington… tonight… leaving here, climbing the mountain, running back down and getting back in time for chores in the morning. Possible, I suppose, but damned unlikely.

“Facts for Farmers,” a wonderful 1867 volume that hangs around the house alternately giving me great ideas and pointing out my inadequacies, says currants make a delightful wine.

If farming has taught me just one thing it is this: You put your head down and keep going, as fast as you can,  no matter how overwhelming it gets.  It will all get done eventually — and that which doesn’t get done wasn’t important after all.

Currant wine is on the docket for Monday night.

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2 Responses to Currants

  1. turtledreams says:

    Hi Dave,
    I imagine the heat is making those heat distortions in the air. Also with the hill there will be some air movement.
    Speaking of black currents, are they old legacy currents or are they the new blessed ones you have to get a permit for. I have for quite a long time have been interested in getting some currents to add to my other fruit bearing flora. I am particularly fond of current jelly. I remember when the ag folks came to the farm my dad had in melvin village to erradicate the plants because of the disease they carried that affected White Pines I think. Funny what sticks in ones mind.
    I still plan to saunter up your hill sometime soon. In my retirement I seem to be busier than ever. Hope you are well and progress with the myriad of tasks that lie in your path. See you sometime before too long.

    • epsomdave says:

      They are the blessed ones. Needed to register them with the state and tell them how close to pine trees they are. They are black currants, not the little red ones like my grandmother had. Hers were tucked out behind the farm about a half mile from any pine trees. I remember them being a big secret.
      All’s well, visit when you can. Look forward to seeing you. Best.

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