Now growing corn in Virginia is hardly newsworthy in the Country where it is the main crop. However, after two previously unfruitful attempts, that included not getting a stalk never mind a cob, we were pleased to see two healthy rows of corn complete with cobs. I initially spent some time watching over them, as one does with a new born, but a freshening cow and a plethora of new rescue horses drew me away; watching paint dry might be more rewarding than watching corn ripening, but it is a close call! So imagine my disappointment on returning to the corn rows, expecting to see bounteous fruits ready for picking, only to see some of these:
Aghast, I call on our chief researcher (Jorg) to identify the offending horror, and find out what new blight has descended on our veggie plot. This year the rain has been the main offender, as many of the bugs of previous years seem to be in limited numbers, and rain it seems unleashed this fungus on the corn. Huitlacoche, pronounced WEET-LA-KO-CHEE is well know in Mexico, and by corn growers all over North America. The latter have been trying to eradicate it, without success, for many years. The Mexicans, however, love it, and the article in the link under my photo gives a number of good nutritional reasons to try it. It also transpires that a crop of "corn smut" sells way over the price of regular corn!
Well, Jorg and I have always been willing to try new dishes, and as huitlacoche is supposed to be packed with lysine a nourishing meal of corn smut is on the cards. We'll let you know how it goes, but that evil looking corn cob might just have a saving grace.
The "Ballade des dames du temps jadis" ("Ballad of the Ladies of Times Past") is a poem by the fifteenth-century French poet François Villon which celebrates famous women in history and mythology, and from which came the line "Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan". In French they have the expression "triste" which is a wistful sadness rather than outright depression, and Villon is commenting that, like the snow, life fades away almost without us noticing.
Well that was a long segue into the fact that snow, in depth, finally came to Triskelion Farm last night - all quarter of an inch of it! But worth sharing, as it was real springlike snow, pretty without being a nuisance (or worse) and it too will fade quickly. In the meantime the ravages of rain and cold are hidden for a few brief hours and we can believe that spring is around the corner (even if Punxsutawney Phil says otherwise, and the weather forecast is for 16 degrees tomorrow night!)
Most of the menagerie were tucked up in stalls, just the youngsters braving the flurries. When dawn broke they were happily munching the hay I had put out, and take the snow along with most weather conditions with equal equanimity. They too have comfy stalls when it gets cold and when ice storms are likely; but their preference is for wide open spaces, as evidenced by the rodeo that went on last evening that caused my neighbor to phone and ask if everything was OK. The thunder of hooves across the paddock could be heard half a mile away, but it was all play. The call was appreciated, however, as accidents do happen. Another neighbor, a few miles away, just earlier in the week, had gone through the floorboards of a barn and broken his thigh bone. Unfortunately, he had left his cell phone in his truck and it took him over an hour to get out and call for help. I guess we have all heard of similar stories in rural communities so a watchful neighbor is always welcome.
