It’s been four weeks for the cherry wine and it’s time to rack, or siphon off, the liquid from the must (this is the fruit “by-product” which has settled to the bottom of the carboy).

I lifted the five-gallon carboy to the kitchen counter the night before so the must would have a chance to rest undisturbed, overnight, and settle once again. {You need the full vessel higher than the empty vessel to which you will transfer the wine).

Next, be sure your equipment is clean and sterile for the transfer.

Once the siphon is going, it will likely empty the carboy in one continuous, steady draw. Make sure the intake is not resting in the must. Remember, the object is to capture only “clean” wine in this rack—leave behind as many particles as possible.

You will probably see a little bubbling activity in this transfer. There will still be yeast present and the agitation will activate it.

Once the transfer is complete, get your fermentation lock on. One fruit gnat carries enough bacteria to ruin the batch (amazing, right?). Find a place for your carboy to call home for the next few months where it’ll be out of the way and the temperature will be somewhat regulated.

Bottling for this batch of cherry wine will occur close to the holidays!

I’m not the biggest fan of fennel. However, it makes for a beautiful display in the herb garden. Its early stages appear feathery like a young dill plant. Later in the summer, the thickened stalks become tinged in a copper color and it shoots upwards in excess of five feet. The seed heads are numerous and bursting with fennel seeds right now—the perfect time to chop them off to stop them from spreading!!

So there I was whacking away at the stalks, when I spotted this beautiful caterpillar balanced on a lower stem. I paused, momentarily, because the stripes were so unique. When I spotted the second one on the stalks, I put down my clippers. What was the connection between these caterpillars and this fennel plant? 

After some online research, I learned adult butterflies feed on nectar plants while caterpillars feed on host plants. Those host plants are singled out by individual species for their ability to feed and nurture a caterpillar. Some butterflies are so picky, there is only one host plant upon which they lay their eggs and feed (such as the Monarch’s relationship with milkweed plants).

The caterpillars on the fennel plant are Eastern Black Swallowtails and feed on fennel, parsley, carrot, and dill. Wow. What a delicate balance?!   I took this picture of a Black Swallowtail in my flower garden two months ago—not realizing how beneficial it would be to have a fennel plant a mere 20 feet away. I think I can learn to love fennel again—because I sure love these butterflies.

Our host, Tracy Toth, continues our tour with Leon Moyer of Moyer’s Chicks Inc., a hatchery in Quakertown, Pa.

If you missed it, click here to view Part One of this webisode.

Our host, Tracy Toth, takes us on a tour of Moyer’s Chicks Inc., a hatchery in Quakertown, Pa.  In this webisode we learn that at the hatchery, the egg definitely comes first.

The tour is a two-part webisode. Click here to watch Part Two.

We bade a fond farewell to our sweet corn a week ago.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, beats the taste of  a freshly picked ear of sweet corn. My husband always plants the old standby “Silver Queen.” It’s been a popular variety with farmers for decades and has a maturity of 92 days. This year, we also planted “Bodacious” which has a 75-day maturity and “Delectable” with an 84-day maturity. The different days to maturity as well as staggered plantings, allow for a sweet corn harvest over several summer weeks if you’re a savvy planter!

I’ve frozen corn in the past by cutting it from the cob, blanching it, and securing in freezer bags. I’ve even canned it—which is fairly time-consuming because of the processing time in the pressure canner. The best way to enjoy it, though, is right out of your garden, right out of the pot, and right off the cob!

Parting is such sweet sorrow…

Our host, Tracy Toth, completes our tour of a riparian buffer while demonstrating how native plant species can support a healthy ecosystem.

I’ll tell you:  make one and a half quarts of grape juice and two batches of grape jelly, that’s what.

I don’t know what kept me from making jelly years ago. When I first started canning, I was drawn toward the jams because it was just a matter of squishing everything up and adding sugar and pectin. I was so proud! But, then, came the turned-up noses of two toddlers to the texture of the fruit and jelly—who knew?  The following year, I relented and began making jelly. WHAT A SNAP?! Why was I intimidated? What was I thinking? 

Jelly is now my preferred route of fruit preservation. I usually drip the mashed fruit overnight to collect the juice and then make the jelly, first-thing, the next morning. However, it seemed the grapes were pouring their juice through the jelly bag yesterday so I was able to make it the same day… make two batches… and collect more than a quart of juice.

And there are four times as many grapes left on the vines!

The third summer we were here I noticed cars slowing and occasionally stopping on the road nearer the pasture. I thought, for the longest time, they were looking at our animals.

One day, while I was out back noticing the tremendous number of butterflies, it dawned on me. The cars were slowing to take in the activity on the wildflowers—all the pollinators that had found their way to the native species we had let “come back.”

I hope this webisode, in particular, serves as a simple lesson in conservation: that something so easy as letting native species propagate a waterway buffer can naturally accomplish so many vital “tasks” that are necessary for a healthy ecosystem. That, and you get to enjoy one heck of a butterfly show!

This week was special for us; we hosted a “ram swap”!

Our dear friend, Linda Cummings (http://guitner.blogspot.com/) from whom we purchased our first Navajo-Churro ewe and ewe-lambs came to our place to meet Shelly Gaines, a breeder from New York. They were to exchange ram-lambs (these li’l guys were born this past Spring). The swap occurred at our place—sort of a halfway point.

Now, these gals are pretty savvy when it comes to the breed. I sure learned a lot from them, such as: “clean” legs, face and belly are desirable (not “wooly”). And as much as we all love the four horns the Churro can possess, ready yourself for some bloody heads when they, inevitably, square off. Of course, the fleeces are truly important too; many breeders are picky…and rightfully so. When it comes time to market your wool, spinners seek out the best. It pays to begin to concern yourself with many of these traits at breeding time.

After the necessary paperwork was exchanged, “Ottawa”, the stunning white ram-lamb went home with Shelly to New York and handsome little “Newman” made the trek back to Linda’s Shepherd’s Loft in Pennsylvania.

We’ll have to keep those guys in mind for the future (wink)…

It’s not “just another butterfly.” It’s an Anglewing — so dubbed because of the angled and ragged edges of the wings.

I might have passed it by if it hadn’t been for my husband, David. He told me it was fluttering about on the porch. I grabbed my camera and my son and we went out to see if we could spot it.

Nathaniel was the first to see it on the stone wall of the house. I could not make it out; it was so camouflaged!  It was easy to spot after it took off because of the vibrant orange paint of the wings — but also hard to capture with the lens because it was so quick!  I managed to snap 30 pictures of this single Anglewing in the following 10 minutes. I’m posting three to show the varied appearances this one, specific butterfly is capable of. Remember: the three pictures are the same butterfly!

The Anglewing is a woodland butterfly–hardly ever visits flowers. It  feasts, instead, on elms and willows as a caterpillar then tree sap, rotting fruit and other decaying matter as an adult.

One of our books suggests planting currants to attract Anglewings (done!) — since some species enjoy currants as caterpillars.

Anglewings enjoy salts from roadways and are one of the very few species of butterfly that can actually overwinter as adults. And to think, I almost never saw it.