I googled pumpkin + cake + easy, because I have a five-month-old excuse not to engage in anything too difficult/cerebral/time consuming. I was looking for a seasonal version of the classic Southern Wine Cake that your aunt used to make if you grew up where I did. (I have two aunts that make it. My Aunt Cricket makes the classic version but Aunt Shirley is a strict Southern Baptist so she substitutes white grape juice for the wine. We call her’s Baptist Cake.  Both are really good but Aunt Cricket’s might just barely have the edge.)

Nothing I found was exactly what I was looking for, so I did a bit of combining of recipes, some improvising and threw in a tried and true hook that I was sure would throw this cake over the top. The result was magical. So good that my husband and step-daughter said it was the best thing I’ve ever cooked. (I went to culinary school and I don’t happen to believe this was true, but still.) So good that we devoured it before I could take a picture. So good that I decided I need to make another one to refine the recipe and photograph it. This cake is as easy as it gets. If you can pour something from one vessel to another, you’ve got this knocked. There is one step that is time consuming but it’s the most important part, so I urge to you to give this a go. And it’s not hands-on time consuming. It just takes a bit of planning.

Autumnal Equinox Cake

Ingredients:

1 gallon apple cider (Yes. 1 whole gallon)

1 cinnamon stick (optional)

2 or 3 cloves (optional)

1/4 cup cinnamon sugar (or 1/4 cup sugar with a tablespoon of cinnamon mixed into it)

1 box Spice Cake Mix* (Duncan Hines or Betty Crocker will do nicely)

1  15 ounce can of pumpkin

4 eggs

1/3 cup melted butter or canola oil

1/3 cup greek yogurt (unflavored, of course)

2/3 cup sugar

Instructions:

Pour the entire gallon of apple cider into a large pot and add the cinnamon stick and cloves if you are using them. Bring to boil, reduce to a gentle simmer and then find something to do of the next hour or so. (Your house will smell heavenly during this process, BTW.) When the gallon of apple cider has reduced to about two cups, it’s done. The apple cider reduction will be syrupy, although it may be hard to tell until you allow it to cool to room temperature. Remove the cinnamon stick and cloves and set aside. Pat yourself on the back– you just made liquid gold.

Preheat the oven to 350 degree. Grease a Bundt cake pan with cooking spray and “flour” the pan with the cinnamon sugar, tapping to coat the pan and discarding any excess.

In the bowl of a stand mixer, combine all the remaining ingredients plus 1/4 cup of the apple cider syrup you just made. Mix slowly until combined and then on medium high for a couple of minutes.

Pour the batter into your prepared pan and bake at 350 until done. (In my convection oven, this took about 50 minutes, but every oven is different so start testing for doneness at about 35 minutes.

Remove from the oven and place the pan on a cooling rack. Carefully pour 1/4 cup of apple cider syrup over the cake while it’s still hot and in the pan. Wait about 30 minutes for the cake to cool, the ever so carefully invert the pan onto a cake round or large plate. Now pour another 1/4 cup of apple cider syrup over the top of the cake as evenly as you can.

Serve with whipped cream, because if you’re going to eat all that cake, why act all high and mighty when it comes to what is essentially a garnish? Drizzle with yet more apple cider syrup and devour the essences of Autumn.

Store any remaining apple cider syrup in a tight jar and store in the fridge for a few weeks or in the freezer for however long you freeze stuff. For ideas on how to use it, see this post, but definitely try it on salmon.

* Once, many moons ago, I did a post about making chicken soup for a house full of people while we were all sick with a nasty cold. In that post, I conceded that homemade chicken stock was always preferable to boxed broth but admitted that we were so sick and so short on time that I was using the boxed. Not long afterwards, I noticed we were getting thousands of hits that were coming from a famous (actually notorious might be a better word) website. I clicked the link and found that someone had posted a link to my soup recipe and the entire forum was outraged (OUTRAGED, I TELL YOU!) because anyone who cares about food would never use boxed chicken broth. Anyone with the slightest taste would rather go hungry than use it, in fact. It was actually pretty funny, now that I think about it, that total strangers were ready to burn me in effigy because I made soup in my own house for my own friends with an ingredient that they didn’t approve of. It’s a funny world we live in these days.

Anywho, I say all of this to say, I get it. Boxed cake mix is the WORST. You would never DREAM of stooping so low as to feed your family boxed cake mix! How could you possible inflict such a plebeian and base concoction on the refine and sensitive palates of your family?!? I should be locked up for even suggesting such a thing, etc. etc.  I wish you peace and send you on your way.

Meanwhile, I’ll be here eating cake.

Though, to be fair, it isn’t always like this.  This summer (and last, too) was pretty mild.  In Augusts past we’ve had brutal days and nights where it’s still 90 degrees at 10:00 at night. Now may days are bracketed by farm chores completed in downright comfortable temperatures.  Three years ago I had to be out by 8 am to beat the awful oppressiveness of it. Evenings I would just sweat through it.

But these last few……..

It’s been perfect.  My friend Lisa and I agree that we can put up with frigid “polar vortex” type winters if it means we can have these summers.

The stream is totally overgrown, but it’s a lot of wildflowers and color.  It’s so difficult to properly photograph.

See that wild morning glory in there? It’s that time!

Alabama, in our pasture wasteland.  The grass (not that we had much to begin with) is all gone for the year.

Happy Sabine.

Roquefort is so “majephtic”.

Sweet Keswick

Yeardley

Basil, who has never lost his cuddliness.

Chicken watering hole.

Our curriculum for the school year is submitted, plans for share dyeing are in the works, Emily the shearer has been contacted about shearing the Angora goats. Our first tentative steps toward fall have been taken.

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More soon…

Mom, Dad, big sister and baby are all doing well– exhausted but very happy.

More as soon as I figure out how to juggle all this.

Ah, well.  Yesterday the flock finally was freed from their heavy fleeces (just in time for temps to plummet and rain to fall all day today). But yesterday. Yesterday was glorious.  Later in the evening there was much more frolicking than I have seen since…..well, last spring.

I love watching Emily work, and I love seeing the wool coming off to reveal the little bodies underneath.

Wembley’s fleece came off in a solid, felted clump, not unlike a rug.  Poor thing. When a sheep has been as sick as she was, it’s no surprise.  I’m sure the three or four baths I gave her didn’t help. But, now she’s well and free of the old fleece and can start a new, healthy coat.

Now, this. This is what I love to see. The colored flock. The sun-bleached outer layer, the darker layer at the skin, and all the variation in between.

The pure Border Leicesters were mostly silver underneath; the Border Leicester/ Cormo crosses were more black underneath.

Our friend Amy came and helped out with hooves, while Emily’s dog watched (and snatched hoof clipping to chew on).. Seriously, she was a HUGE help. And unsurprisingly, Emily can easily manage a sheep one-handed while Amy and I struggled tag-teaming them.

The goats were surprisingly well-behaved for her.

Neve helped out, too, of course!

Cassie.

Lyra

Ursa – who is seriously the tiniest thing once you get her out of her coat!

Wembley the Wonder Lamb.

I know everyone is sad we were unable to have a party for shearing this spring, but trust me, we had a great reason (BABYBABYBABY) that Susan will update y’all with soon enough.

In the meantime, I hope all of your steps are as light and carefree as the flock!

Yes, hello. My name is Adelaide. You show me a fence and I’ll show you a stuck goat!

She does this every. day.

It’s been warm enough the last few days that the dogs have started their summer ritual of hanging out in the stream.

The peas are growing well!

The peonies are going to bloom any second.

The lilacs are blooming now and busy attracting bees and butterflies with their heavenly scent.

The strawberries are flowering.

The broccoli is sprouting.

The Monarda is shooting up fast.

The raspberry bush is taking over!

The azaleas are about to pop.

The dogwoods are showing off.

And Ursa is looking mighty tired of that fleece!

The apple trees are starting to leaf out.

This broody hen is very unhappy that I keep taking the eggs from under her.

But mostly waiting for lambs. I’ve probably spent a hundred nights or more waiting for ewes to give birth, sleeping in my truck or in the barn, or in my bed with a baby monitor propped up on my pillow. Year after year, I experienced the same excitement and anticipation waiting for the very first lamb or kid of the season to be born. Sometimes it felt like it was never going to happen and then, suddenly we were up to our elbows in knobbly knees and pink noses.

I am happy to say that lambing never lost it’s magic for me. No matter how many babies I saw born, no matter how many sleepless nights, no matter how many moments-old lambs I saw take their first wobbly steps, it never stopped being an amazing miracle.

Last year, we decided not to breed the ewes for lambs this spring. Mostly because our flock was at capacity and we didn’t want to have to make any tough decisions about any of the older ewes. When you have a no-kill flock, there is always a trade-off to be made between the old animals and the new.

We also held off lambing because I knew that this year, I would be awaiting a lamb of my very own during lambing season. I am 37 weeks pregnant today, eagerly anticipating the arrival of my very own knobby-kneed miracle.

I am feeling all the things you might expect a very pregnant first time mom to be feeling. Excitement. Anticipation. Trepidation. Discomfort (my empathy for the ewes has increased greatly!).  I can honestly say that I have never been so happy– or so content– in my entire life as I am right now.

But in spite of that, I will miss the lambs this year. I just keep reminding myself how incredibly lucky I was to have that experience so many times.

No one in this world has ever been luckier than me, that’s for sure.

I am enjoying the newly blooming flowers and the pea plants which have begun to sprout.

But the BIG news we are happy to share is that Wembley the wonderlamb has made a full and complete recovery.

When I found her downed several weeks back with a thiamine deficiency, we were pretty worried.  When we brought her home from the vet that evening, we were unsure how she’d do through the night.

She lived in my tub for two weeks before I felt like I could move her out to the sheltered front porch.  But after a few days I was still pretty worried. She was still crooked, and could barely stand on her own. When the nearly three week mark hit and she was walking sideways, unable to lift her head completely, I was really worried. But then, suddenly one day, she decided she’d had enough, and walked around the gate and off the porch.  I took her down to the other lambs (lots of bleating was to be had) and worried yet again how she’d do through the night.

But now? Holding her own at the feed trough and hay bale. Walking straight, no head tilting or any indication of illness other than being a bit skinny still.

The only difference between her pre-illness self and now is that she got used to us being her food-bearers, and consequently is very friendly and cuddly now.

I’m pretty comfortable calling this turn around nothing short of miraculous.

I also learned that immature lima bean pods do not taste like lima beans. They are nothing like eating an immature pea pod. They are actually rather horrifying and require a palate cleanser. I hope I do not make this lima bean mistake again soon.

The garden is situated in a field behind the house, but it is back across a stream—a stream crossed by a cute—but little—bridge. The garden is way too far to run a hose from the house. I thought a pump system would have to be installed to bring water up from the stream or, more likely, bucket after bucket of water would have to be dragged across that bridge—totally impractical. I was very surprised when Erin told me a great solution was in place.

Bridge to the Garden

The solution is none of the above methods, and it is simple, elegant, perfect.

The stream incorporates a lovely little waterfall. A hose has been set, open side up, in the waterfall. It runs from there to the garden.

And it works! Water pours down the waterfall and enters the hose. When the garden-end spigot is opened, there is plenty of pressure to water the garden. Low-tech, simple, and free—beautiful.

Water flows from the waterfall straight down into the hose.

The hose exits the stream...

...runs through the woods...

...and waits in the garden, ready when needed.

Gratuitous goat photo

It was a beautiful, sunny morning, and I found both Emily and Andie hard at work and in good spirits. Emily took the brunt of dealing with the recent deaths and illnesses, but she has years of experience working with animals, and seemed to be able to take this in stride as a sad but inevitable part of farming.  I was so glad to see the two of them upbeat and energetic.

I began searching for Arno almost as soon as I arrived. I had been very worried as to how he might be doing without Agnes. I had a tough time finding him—he is one busy goat. He is very grown up now and is doing just fine—Agnes raised him well. I finally found him palling around with a bunch of the other goats; he then moved on to rambunctiously charging back and forth with all of the sheep (only a few sheep are at Hudson Valley for the summer). Emily and Andie confirmed that he is doing quite well. Below is a cell phone shot of him–my camera acted up. Arno is in the center of the shot, almost head-on to the camera (um, phone).

Arno

Katie, the fourth goat with listeriosis, had been doing very poorly and was close to being put down. However, she has had an abrupt and well-nigh miraculous turn-around and is doing much better. She has her own pen at the moment for TLC and rest.

I also found out that Miss Linda is doing fine—both Odette and Ophelia had reached the point of not being very reliant on her, so Ophelia’s passing has not had the terrible impact on her it might have at an earlier date.

I’m so glad I went to the farm this morning. I had been a little afraid, but what I found there was all good and life-affirming. All of the animals looked healthy, happy, and relaxed (and the people). The garden update—well, that will have to wait ’til another day!

I wish we could have a whole second herd of goats with his gorgeous natural color.

I just wanted to take a moment to show him off to all who have not met him before. I was just about awestruck the first time I saw him…I had assumed Angoras only came in white, but it turns out they also come in shades of black as well as red. As far as I know, the farm does not have a red Angora…yet.

Death is very removed from my everyday life–people die isolated in hospitals, hidden from view. It is easy, in a way, to forget that death exists and is coming for each of us. While nothing makes the loss of these animals “worth it”, I am grateful for this lesson in mortality and the reminder that life is finite and precious.

One of my most important pieces of jewelry is a set of Tibetan prayer beads, each bead carved into the shape of a skull. I suppose it sounds quite morbid, but it serves as a reminder of mortality and the fleetingness of life. One of my coworkers was killed recently, in a brutal, horrific car crash. The morning of the day she died, she sent out one of those sentimental e-mails on how unexpectedly death can come, and the importance of appreciating what–and who–you have now. That e-mail, and the knowledge that she was living each day to the fullest, has been such a comfort to those she left behind. She was well aware of the preciousness of her life. I think such an awareness is a gift, and it is the lesson, and the reminder, I choose to draw from the passing of Agnes, Chipotle, and Ophelia.

Ophelia gets her bottle (while Odette waits her turn)

Ophelia gets snorgled

I have an unreasonable fear of canning, stemming from childhood memories of exploding jars in my grandmother’s basement. I can’t imagine how she managed to make those jars blow up, but it has been instilled in me that canning is dangerous. This puts me at a distinct disadvantage when the garden bounty starts pouring in.

I was thrilled to discover refrigerator pickles–yummy, easy to make, and they keep in the fridge for weeks. And no canning! (Must be refrigerated, and they will spoil eventually.) Today I did a bare bones version:

Slice a bunch of cucumbers into a bowl.

Boil together 2 cups white vinegar, 2 cups sugar, 2 T kosher salt. Pour over the sliced cukes.

Put in fridge and wait at least a day (if you can) before snacking. I waited until they were barely less than burning hot before snacking…

If anyone has a great refrigerator pickle recipe to share, please do. I’m sure there are much snazzier versions than the above…

Susie did not lean toward cold loving crops when planting, and those seem to be the only crops doing well around here. I took a meander around her garden the other day and found the watermelon longing for heat:

That is my pen next to the melon plants for scale and it is hard to see, but it is actually pointing at one of the mushrooms(!) that has sprung up in the garden.

Susie’s garden fascinates me because she has planted many varieties I’ve never tried.  I am endlessly interested in what other people plant. Some of what she has:

Potatoes: Kerr’s Pink, All Blue, and many others.

Charentais melon.  Heirloom variety, reputed to be delicious. Can’t wait to see how this one turns out.

Moon and Stars watermelon. This is one I have grown, with its beautiful speckling of the fruit and even the leaves. Makes me happy just to look at it in the garden. I don’t have much watermelon space and this year I have Mountain Sweet Yellow in my garden, exquisite flavor and it ripens in our tough Northeastern area. (Well, maybe not this year.)

Crystal Apple cucumber. An heirloom white cuke. Looks a bit like lemon cucumber to me.

Black Beauty zucchini. I am open-minded, and I will try this if Susie has any to spare. Meantime I will try to convert her to my all time favorite zucchini, Costata Romanesco. A low yielding zuke—and I believe that is a virtue in a zuke—lots of blossoms for frying and a reasonable amount of fruit. Costata has a delicious nutty flavor. When I bring them to work people actually fight over them.

Boston Marrow Squash. Susie has come up with yet another nifty heirloom, a pumpkin this time.

Peppers: King of the North, Healthy, and others.

Tomatoes: Trophy, Brandywine, Suddoth’s Brandywine, Green Zebra, and others—I’m hoping that between the two of us, Susie and I can have a little tomato tasting this fall.

Susie has many other plants—all look happy but a bit behind due to the rain and cold. Well, not all look happy: the potted tomatoes up by the house were attacked by the chickens and had to be moved within the safety of the garden fence:

A couple of innocent looking chickens:

I am already straying from the garden topic–I want to share this video shot soon after Agnes had Arno. Arno is goofing around, while Agnes never lets him get far from her sight. Very typical of Agnes’s conscientious mothering.

Agnes and her Arno from Linda Campbell on Vimeo.

During farm visits, Arno always seemed to be having adventures while Agnes kept a watchful eye on him. Thank goodness for his strong, independent spirit. He is a resilient little goat.

My friend Grace and I were nosing around at the Fiber Farm a few weeks ago, checking out Susie’s plantings. We saw a little bit of deer damage starting on the shrubs in front of the house. That was no surprise—deer are absolutely rampant in this area, a formidable opponent to gardeners everywhere. The poor things have lost most of their natural predators and seem to constantly be on the verge of starvation. Unfortunately, that has led to great boldness on their part and widespread destruction in practically everybody’s gardens.

Anyway, we were looking around when we saw a most intriguing planting under a tree. An intense back and forth ensued as we tried to identify the plant, which had not yet flowered. Our first thought was tulips, but that was clearly impossible—these plants were in easy reach of any deer passing by, and tulips are deer candy.

Back home I discovered a similar mysterious planting in my back yard. I plant stuff all the time and then forget about it, but I couldn’t figure this one out. But all became clear once it flowered:

Susie and I both successfully grew tulips this year! How Susie did this, I just don’t know. Apparently she is under the protection of the plant gods. I, however, happened to put deer repellant down in the area of the tulips—pure chance, I was trying to protect other plantings there. A deer repellant that can protect tulips is a powerful repellant indeed!

For years I did not use deer repellant at all. Too expensive for one. Then I started using a homemade repellant. It was clear to me the stuff would not work—after all, if it did, everyone would use it.

And then, a miracle. I continue to field questions from the neighbors as to why the deer don’t bother my lilies, my hostas, all my plants that normally would make up a deer salad bar. My recipe for homemade repellant is below. It is important to start application early in the season, before deer have gotten in the habit of snacking at your house every day. (They will even teach this snacking habit to their children, and pass down info about how tasty your yard is from one generation to the next.) I apply repellant weekly, and rotate the homemade spray with a commercial repellant from week to week. I like to use Deer Solution as my commercial repellant because it happens to smell like cinnamon, but any spray should do in the rotation. You just don’t want the same thing every single week—the deer will get used to it.

Deer Repellant

2 eggs

1 cup skim milk

1 cup water

2 TBS liquid dish detergent

Beat the eggs a little and strain them through a sieve. Straining them will help keep them from clogging your spray bottle.

Mix all the ingredients together. Store in fridge in a spray bottle, and apply to plants weekly, or after a heavy rain. No need to let the eggs or milk turn bad and start to smell! It works fine with fresh ingredients.

Some people like to add a little vegetable oil to encourage better adhesion to the plant leaves. Brad Roeller of the Cary Institute has done lots of research on deer damage. His green landscaping tips can be linked to from this page, including his own version of homemade deer repellant.

A final word of caution—deer will eat anything if they are hungry enough! I hope you have great luck if you try the repellant spray, but unfortunately there are no guarantees…

Anybody have any favorite tips for dealing with deer?

And now for today’s unrelated goat photos: