More Rain and Green Grape Pie!

We spent much of the last couple of weeks at the farm.  Not much cedar clearing got done, though, because of the amount of rain that fell.  Sometimes it came down by the bucketfuls, sometimes it just drizzled, but we’ve promised never to complain when it rains.  As in this photo, you can almost always see a rainbow, and if you can't see it, you know it's there somewhere.

The dogs don’t complain, either (except when it thunders, of course).  The stock tanks are still full, and there is standing water many places in the pastures.

  

Kota and Colt love swimming and fetching sticks in the ponds, and Rue relishes her time splashing along the shore.  And, they all love racing through the standing water.

The turkeys visited and entertained us each morning, and when we went for walks we could hear the painted buntings singing from the top of almost every tree.  The bluebonnets are gone, now, and other wildflowers have taken their place.  They are mostly small, sometimes an inch or less in diameter.  And if you look closely, many times there are teeny-tiny insects searching for nectar among their petals.

We always eat well at the farm.  (Duh!  John loves to cook and as many of you know, he’s oh-so-good at it.)  This trip was no exception, but this time I also got gold stars for my contribution.  When we were growing up, my mother always cooked fantastic meals, most of them “from scratch” and many from produce grown in our own garden.  She also made jams and jellies from the wild plums that grow at the farm, and sometimes a very special dessert, green grape pie!  These were always special treats, because the main ingredients are only available for a short time…and we had to pick them. 

But I digress.  This trip, the wild mustang grapes for green grape pie had just reached the optimum size.  They can’t be mature, because the seeds will be too hard, so catching them at the proper size is a requirement.  In the photo below, you can see the green-gray leaves of the grape vines blanketing the other vegetation on the tank dam.

And, nestled among the leaves I found these beauties.  

Fighting my way through the brush and briars (being careful to watch for snakes), I picked about 3-4 cups of grapes.  That was just enough for a scrumptious deep-dish green grape pie.  Served warm, topped with vanilla ice cream, it was heavenly.  Sorry, no photos of the finished product.  Cousin Kathy and Eric helped John and me inhale it in a heartbeat.  I will, however, share a favorite photo of my mother slicing one of her pies.  

You can tell by her concentration that this is serious business.  And those pies were just as good as they look.  Thanks, Mother, for passing along your knowledge and expertise along with your love.  We miss you.