BAR NONE NEGRIL

Sometimes a column title jumps right out.  I dealt with moles all summer, part of the territory.  I thought maybe they went to Miami for the winter?  Went out last night to inspect beneath the hoop houses and found a tiny little umbrella drink next to a miniature chaise lounge.  Teeny weeny bar tab on an itsy bitsy plate of nibbled parsnips and turnips.  Say what?!?

Instead of heading for warmer climes the moles have decided that the comfort of my hoops provides an ideal winter vacation spot.  Their tunnels crisscrossing my raised beds, nibble here, nibble there, pesky little nibblers!  So I harvested last night to save the remainder.

Brushed off the snow and ice, lifted the greenhouse plastic, pulled back the frost blanket, moved the hay, and Viola!  Standing in a foot of drifted snow, gathering root vegetables for a winter’s stew.

Now nearly self sufficient, one of the finest moments of my life.

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Fresh parsnips, winter radishes, and turnips.  All went into the pot on top of the wood burning stove, Tres Rustic!