…and then there was Beetroot

There was beetroot to harvest just a little while ago, and they were all lovely and big, too!

I got just over 1kg of it (that’s 2 pounds for my US friends), which was just enough to try out a pickled beetroot recipe I’d had my eye on for a while. Of course, the beetroot pickling happened at the same time as the cooking of the dinner, as well as some preparation for outings for school etc: why does so much of my canning happen when I’m just so busy I can’t stop to scratch myself? Why not on a sleepy Sunday when not much is happening?

Anyway, after everyone was in bed, and the canner finally got to 94 degrees and stayed there for half an hour, I produced these:

Let me tell you, beetroot pickled with cloves and cumin seed are to die for. There was also a half jar that we’d already hoed into too, but that’s not in the picture… I believe that someone was standing just out of the frame, making noises of appreciation. Yum! We’ve all been gorging on the stuff, and are almost through another jar. Just one to go!

Now we’re trying to figure out where to squeeze in some more beetroot in our bursting veggie patch, because such tasty treats weren’t in our minds when we planned it all out. We were thinking of tomatoes and basil… but that harvest storm is yet to come.

Not just a blip…

… on the radar.

I’ve been quiet again. It’s because I really didn’t know what to say. Let me tell you what happened:

We decided to adopt a rescue kitten. He was from interstate- Western Australia no less – as far from where we are as is possible to get in this big country of ours. Arrangements were made, dates set, and our whole little family took an exciting late-night trip to the airport to pick him up.

We were delighted, as he ticked every box we’d listed as ‘things we want in a cat’: he was big, fluffy, vocal, friendly, smoochy and playful. He wasn’t timid, and liked dogs. He was darkish coloured, so safe to go out in our strong sunshine. Best of all, he had tufty ears, and tufty toes. His tail was like a bottlebrush – long and bushy. His name was Amigo. Here’s a picture:

The sad truth is that Amigo was hit and killed by a car 3 weeks after we got him. He’d only been allowed outside for 4 days, and was still learning what’s what in our busy world. The awful thing is that a few seconds either side of crossing the road when he did, and he’d still be here, sharing our lives.

We were shattered, our hearts broken. Pets dying is always horrible, but a kitten? Somehow more awful. So I’m cross with Life at the moment, and having to deal with the hard questions that children ask when things like this happen isn’t helping.

Sigh. Perhaps Spring being in full swing at present will help, sooner or later…