Wine and Chicken
If you've noticed I've been having a little trouble keeping up lately, well … you're right. We're in the middle of a major (and overdue) kitchen remodel, and things are in a state of utter discombobulation around here:
We're slowly putting it back together again, but in the meantime, we haven't been able to stay on top of our typical fall food preservation activities. Most things are already done: tomatoes are canned, green beans, okra and broccoli are frozen. But our fruit is just sitting around, waiting to be eaten. We have lots of apples and pears, and they are doing alright since they have a reasonable shelf life — though we'd love to whip up some pies! We're having real trouble keeping up with the small fruit: the second round of raspberries and a third round of strawberries, plus all of our grapes. Normally we'd be in high jam season right now, but we can barely get a dinner together, and it's no fun at all to do the dishes in the second-floor bathroom sink.
Oh, the grapes … we've lost (literal) bunches:
This is is a bowl's worth of Concord grapes that started turning to wine before we were able to finish them fresh. They actually smell delightful, all yeasty and fermenty. If we had time and space, we'd try making some more wine, but it'll have to wait until next year. In the meantime, these slightly fermented grapes are chicken food:
Our youngest three chickens (that's Lizzy in the front, with Louisa Catherine and Rachel not far behind) were all over the grapes, while the oldest put themselves to bed. The young 'uns seem to like them well enough:
They only had a few because it was dusk and time to get home to roost, and I really like to think they got a little buzzed, stumbled up the ramp, and hit the roosting bar snoring.
There's no indication they're drunk, though, and they (wisely) only had a few.
We'll see if the rest of the grapes get eaten or not. I had some myself before tossing them — they're not noticeably boozy, so I'm sure I'm not providing alcohol to minors or anything.