Her Scattered Gold
Getting on for mid-July now and there were a goodly number of things in the kitchen to be processed and laid by against the winter. Among them were a couple of generous baskets of Golden Beets.
While processing things for the canner and freezer Et Ux commented on how staying out of the cash economy allows one to be immensely wealthy. The cash economy gives one a false feeling of poverty even after what really fulfills your wants and could make you happy is long since satisfied. Without that false focus it is quite easy to feel opulent and to spare.
It is much like the frequent theme in myth and fairy tale such as this one: A poor man lived in a cottage so small that he could open the front door, open the back door, and put the kettle on the hob all without stirring from his chair. One night he had a dream that he went into the town a number of miles hence and there beside the bridge was a pot of gold. He set out for the town, got to the bridge, and stood there in the sun all day where the gold ought to have been. The innkeeper, seeing him an being curious, asked him over and offered him an ale in exchange for his story. When the poor man told his story the innkeeper said, "Much as I suspected, I see you there all tattered and poor wasting in the sun and I said to myself, now that's what comes of a many who follows dreams. I myself have had just such a dream. I came upon a tiny cottage so small I could open the front door, open the back door, and put the kettle on the hob all without rising from my chair. There, under the hearthstone, was a pot filled with gold. Now do I go running off to find it? No, unlike you, I do not follow dreams.
The poor cottager rushed back home, lifted up the hearthstone, and there was a pot of gold.
The gold here being metaphorical. I've looked for that gold too. For years I planted these golden beets and every year the germination has been dismal and the growth and yield worse than that. There were a small handful of beets to be had raw, but never more than that. None the less, I planted them again this spring. The germination was nearly 100%! Nearly every transplant lived and made a bulb.
Like so much scattered gold brought back together, here was a thing of value, all the more outside the cash economy.
About 14 square feet of growing bed yielded 16 pints of pickled beets and four quarts of beet-greens.
I've planted another seed bed of them for the fall. How do I expect to fare? Well, there is a story that goes like this: There was once a gardener who planted a bed so small you could .......
While processing things for the canner and freezer Et Ux commented on how staying out of the cash economy allows one to be immensely wealthy. The cash economy gives one a false feeling of poverty even after what really fulfills your wants and could make you happy is long since satisfied. Without that false focus it is quite easy to feel opulent and to spare.
It is much like the frequent theme in myth and fairy tale such as this one: A poor man lived in a cottage so small that he could open the front door, open the back door, and put the kettle on the hob all without stirring from his chair. One night he had a dream that he went into the town a number of miles hence and there beside the bridge was a pot of gold. He set out for the town, got to the bridge, and stood there in the sun all day where the gold ought to have been. The innkeeper, seeing him an being curious, asked him over and offered him an ale in exchange for his story. When the poor man told his story the innkeeper said, "Much as I suspected, I see you there all tattered and poor wasting in the sun and I said to myself, now that's what comes of a many who follows dreams. I myself have had just such a dream. I came upon a tiny cottage so small I could open the front door, open the back door, and put the kettle on the hob all without rising from my chair. There, under the hearthstone, was a pot filled with gold. Now do I go running off to find it? No, unlike you, I do not follow dreams.
The poor cottager rushed back home, lifted up the hearthstone, and there was a pot of gold.
The gold here being metaphorical. I've looked for that gold too. For years I planted these golden beets and every year the germination has been dismal and the growth and yield worse than that. There were a small handful of beets to be had raw, but never more than that. None the less, I planted them again this spring. The germination was nearly 100%! Nearly every transplant lived and made a bulb.
Like so much scattered gold brought back together, here was a thing of value, all the more outside the cash economy.
About 14 square feet of growing bed yielded 16 pints of pickled beets and four quarts of beet-greens.
I've planted another seed bed of them for the fall. How do I expect to fare? Well, there is a story that goes like this: There was once a gardener who planted a bed so small you could .......
posted by Eleutheros at 8:34 PM
8 Comments:
"Her scattered gold" sounds like a line from an old ballad. Is it?
I've never met those golden beets in the flesh (so to speak). Do they taste any different than the red?
What do you use for the pickling? There were some around here who thought I should fallow the whole garden during this summer of renovations, but I planted it anyway. Might squeeze in some time for pickling...
Madcap: "Her Scattered Gold" is an excellent instrumental tune by Robin Williamson on the American Stonehenge album. It is a comment on the fact that traditional Celtic music has had a greater revival in North America than in the original Celtic lands.
And that we, you and I especially, are part of the Celtic Diaspora, although perhaps on different sides of the parish!
The golden beets taste like a somewhat milder version of the original. The tops of red beets taste just like the root, the tops of golden beets taste just like chard. Both are good.
Laura: The basis of the pickling is acetic acid (in the form of vinegar). The beets have sugar and a lot of spices added (cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, etc). They are cooked until they are hot through, parboiled really, and packed hot into hot jars then water-bathed to seal them.
I'm keeping the new beds shaded and watered in this hellish heat in hopes of an even larger fall crop.
...perhaps on different sides of the parish!
I'm an easy convert. I'll go wherever the music's best.
I'll go see if my library's got a copy of American Stoneghenge.
Golden beets are my favorite! Your filled jars are lovely - I'm jealous.
Heya, happy growing season!
I just found your blog while websearching for info on whether freezing dried sweet corn interferes with future sprouting - we didn't eat our sweet corn fast enough, and I just shelled off the last of the dried ears. No pesticides, so we shared with the aphids and earwigs and whatever else - and they hardly eat much of anything. so I have a few pounds. Your details on the two-step freezing cycle to kill eggs was exactly what I needed. Thank you tremendously!
We're in Davis, CA, northern part of the Central Valley. The growing season here is weird and somewhat year-round, but there are limits to what will grow in the deep 100+ degree summer season.
All I originally intended to comment was "Beets are good raw too." But then I started thinking about what I made a couple days ago, I sliced red beets and celery root into sticks, tossed with cider vinegar and apple-olives. Fabulous mix to top a salad with, tossed with walnuts.
(Apple-olives are a weird experiment that came out completely different from what I expected. "What happens if you give green apples the Japanese umeboshi fermentation treatment?" After a month and a half you get green apples that taste like cured olives with a hint of apple. Great way to make tasty use of those tiny hard green apples that fall off, if you can get a bucketful together.)
hi mate, this is the canadin pharmacy you asked me about: the link
I'm pleased you had good germination this time. While I love pickled golden beets, I love them more roasted in the oven and eaten hot.
This is my first time here so now I'll wander around your blog and see what gems I can find. My instinct tells me there may be a few.
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