2009 - Meanwhile, back at the ranch.....

We pause in our historical narrative of work....

I've just started my home batches of all things green walnuts. I've got Nocino, Vin de Noix (aka Perigord Port), Biscotti, and this year, making it's first appearance..... Pickled Walnuts. I was recently certified as an El Dorado County Master Food Preserver and I am putting my new found knowledge to good use.

Here is the first step in the process of pickling the green walnuts. 1) Pick. They are picked when they are one to one and 1/2 inches in diameter. Our family picked. It is much like picking apples, except we only picked from what we could reach. Dad, Paul Clary, found he could pick much higher in the tree using his ATV. We will utilize more pickers and perhaps a cherry picker next year. Another possibility is to stand in the back of a pickup bed truck. Any who...... we could have picked much more had we had these ideas before we picked.

2) The second step is to use a fork to make holes in the walnuts, place them in a quart jar and then fill them with a salt (or brine) solution. They will now sit for one week and we then drain the and subsequently repeat the process. To be continued

1901 - The Work Began

The hard work was harder back then. No machines to clear the land. No cars to drive to town on a whim. They grew their groceries. Our rancher/farmer ancestors had to work outside jobs to make ends meet, just like we do today. Our great grandfather rode a horse from Fair Play to Ione for work. Now that was a long ride! Check out our "Meet the Folks" page on our website, for more info on our family history.

Unlike many of us today, they were frugal. Maybe you had frugal grandparents, too. (I remember the smallest leftovers, carefully preserved in foil in the freezer to be put to good use the following day.) This is important when you try to eek out a living on the land.

They also knew the importance of family. There was the expectation of working together for the common good. Because of their willingness to work hard, the ranch stayed in the family. And when the work was through, there were family dinners, Grange dances, County Fairs, sleeping over at cousins down the road. The walnuts planted by Grandpa sustained my Grandma after his death. Those same walnut trees grew as their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren returned to the ranch at harvest time, picking the nuts from the ground all day long during harvest.

We all savor the memories of laughter, lots of it. Singing together: You Are My Sunshine, Barney Google, Pistol Packin Mama, Chickeree Chick, Mares Eat Oats, When You Wore a Tulip, etc. We savor memories of sleeping up in the attic at Christmas time and actually hearing the reindeer bells as Santa Claus approached. We savor memories of feeding the sheep and weeding the garden. And don't forget the joys of playing in the dirt!

Most of us connect to moments in time, and though we didn't live full time on the ranch growing up, I connect to those savored moments. The beauty of conifer and scrub oak. The quiet. The togetherness. And even the work.

My life long dream to live on the ranch took shape over decades of wishful thinking. It was time to dream with a purpose.