Frightful!

When the winter winds blow and the Yule fires are lit, from the north of Scandinavia down to Switzerland, it is best to stay indoors, safely shut away from the dark forest paths and the wild heaths. Those who wander out by themselves during the Yule-nights may hear a sudden rustling through the tops of the trees -- a rustling that might be the wind, though the rest of the wood is still. But then the barking of dogs fills the air, with the hunters behind whooping "Wod! Wod!" a man's voice cries from above, "Midden in dem Weg!" and the host of wild souls sweeps down, fire flashing from the eyes of the black hounds and hooves of the black horses.
The wise traveller falls down at once in the middle of the road, face down. (The Hunt leader spares only those who remain in the middle of the path. Therefore he often calls out to travelers, "In the middle of the path!") If he is lucky, he will take no harm other than the cold feet of the black dogs running over his body. More foolish folk are swept up, coming to earth far from home or left dead behind the furious host. Those who join in the Hunter's cry may get as their share of the booty a piece of human flesh.
The barnyard mud problem has been solved as Fergus and Stewart demonstrate here. The ground is fozen solid as a rock at this juncture. So crunchy hard that the steers hate walking on it and stay in the stall filled with hay. Of course the arctic wind gusts makes everyone want to take cover.
What could cheer chickens up more than some hot popcorn? Not very many things! We had an old Jiffy Pop that needed disposing of as it was past date, so the gals had a treat. They'd barely come out of their coops since last Friday, but the buttery goodness was too hard to resist.Since we are to continue with arctic winds, snow and single digit temps for the next week or longer, looks like we'll have to postpone the Seven Trees Wassail until another TBA date. Sorry folks. Hard to have a bon fire with wind gusts pushing 60mph!
Santa isn’t the only one keeping track of who is naughty or nice. In some Alpine regions of Europe (mainly Austria, Germany & Switzerland), people still carry on celebrations involving one of St. Nick’s lesser known companions, the Krampus.
The name Krampus comes from the Old High German word for claw, apparently referring to just one of this being’s scary attributes. Other less-than-friendly features include a long, long tongue, shaggy black hair/fur, goat's head with horns, and cloven feet. Krampus was usually equipped with a bundle of birch twigs (for beating naughty children), chains (for capturing naughty children) and a pack basket on his back (for abducting naughty children).
The modern tradition goes something like this: On Dec. 5, the day before St. Nicholas arrives with his sack of gifts, local men dress up in goat and sheep skins, wearing elaborate hand-carved masks. They make the rounds of village houses with children. When the kids open the door, they're frightened by Krampus-clad men waving switches at them and ringing loud cowbells. In some towns, kids are made to run a Krampus-gauntlet, dodging swats from tree branches.
One anti-Krampus pamphlet distributed in Vienna was earnestly entitled "Krampus is an Evil Man." As with most old traditions, Krampus has been somewhat commercialized and toned down. Today the tradition often devolves into a mid-winter bacchanal, where scaring kids takes a back seat to heroic bouts of drinking. The town of Schladminger is home to a sort of Krampus convention, with more than a thousand goat-men roaming the town's streets, harassing the town's young women.
The Krampus tradition enjoyed a relatively recent surge in ‘popularity’ right before WW1, thanks to the new-fangled color picture-postcard industry of that time.
There are a few books available (and many online sources) detailing these rather disturbing images. They run the gamut from scenes of children being menaced, beaten and abducted to scenes of older girls and women being sexually harassed (some even feature a voyeur Santa, peeking through the window at the Krampus & victim).
We hope you enjoyed this creepy look into a traditional European belief. I'd much rather find a lump of coal in my stocking than have a visit from the Krampus! 
The last time we climbed St. helens was in August 2003. We had a permit for climbing in 2004, but ended up moving to Whatcom County the same weekend we had planned to climb. Then the mountain got a bit too active for my climbing comfort, and life got rather busy at Seven Trees, so we haven't thought about climbing again until now.
There were a lot of wildfires that summer, which made some of the pictures hazy. This is taken halfway up Helens, on Monitor Ridge. It's not a technical climb, but it is fairly strenuous. I've made 7 attempts with 4 summits. The failed attempts were weather related. It doesn't matter what time of year you climb or what the conditions are at base level. Sometimes you get part way up and encounter a blizzard, or soaking rain, and there isn't much point in risking life & limb for a 50ft view of fog at the crater rim. One year a party had gotten lost, one of them seriously injured, and my party nearly met the same fate the day after. I was lucky to escape with mild frostbite & hypothermia, and definitely learned a lesson on when to turn back.
This shot is looking down the mountain, after coming off Monitor Ridge. As if the hellish scramble over oven-hot sunbaked jagged boulders wasn't tough enough, this point is the start of the final third of the trek. Nearly a 45-degree slog up gritty ashy sand, 2 steps up, 1 slide back. You keep glancing up, seeing tiny little specks that are fellow climbers, already whooping it up on the crater rim, and you think you'll never make it.
When the weather cooperates, you can see 2000ft to the crater floor and watch the new dome steam and rumble. There are frequent rockfalls down the crater walls, and sometimes snow cornices on the edge which can be treacherous. You can see Mt. Rainier, Mt. Adams, Mt. Hood, Spirit Lake (an amazing sight!) and some of the visitor centers from the top.
Although sunchokes (also known as Jerusalem artichokes) are old news to veteran gardeners, they're new to us at Seven Trees. Thanks to our Endorrean friends, we will be planting our own crop of these versatile tubers soon. Or maybe I should say we'll be unleashing these edible weeds, since they tend to take over any space they are given. Luckily we have just the spot. Our paddock 5 fronts a busy road, and already has a nice patch of thimble berries for visual screening, wildlife habitat, and critter snacking. Interplanting with sunchokes will work great there.
Here's a picture of one variety of sunchoke being harvested. And below is another. Moose Tubers (a sub-company of Fedco Seeds) has 3 kinds of sunchokes for sale. Ronniger's has a few as well.
Some "technical" info:
The yummy-looking mashed chokes & tatties above are next on our recipe list. So far we've only tried them roasted with carrots & potatoes with a chicken. Tasty!
Seems a friendly enough fellow... mostly just follows Doug around and does what Douglas does. Including already "MOO" to speed up breakfast delivery... or apparently that's the idea, thanks to Doug. Let's hope this is a habit that doesn't last for either steer.
More neighbor bounty... this in the form of a concord "type" grape from a friend of our neighbor M's grape vines. No one knows anymore exactly what variety grape they are as some old homesteader planted them originally. We decided to turn the lot of them into juice for fresh or canning, and will make a small amount into a batch or two of jelly. M picked them and brought them to our doorstep... how cool is that??
Mark the evil parrot, AKA the worst pet in the world. He likes to march back & forth across his cage top, muttering and yiping. Today one of us dared to touch the potato chip bag, which set off an extremely loud shouting spree, until his treat dish was properly filled.
Magnus, showing off his master sleeping skills. No box goes un-filled on his watch.
In the not-too-distant past, hotbeds were a fixture of nearly every household. Larger versions, in multiples, were used by market gardeners to keep city people in fresh produce all winter long. We're thinking about building one or two as an adjunct to the greenhouse, since they are easier to heat. I'm thinking to start heat-loving plants like tomatoes and peppers in them, and move them to the greenhouse once they are well-grown and the weather is warmer.
I'm sure most gardeners are familiar with coldframes - they create microclimates, that provide several degrees of air and soil temperature insulation, and shelter from wind. Hotbeds go one better by using a bottom-up heat source which encourages plants to grow in even the depths of winter. But where does this heat source come from?
Pony poop! That's right - horse poo composts at a higher heat than other manure, especially when "pre-treated" by making a 4 x 4 ft pile that is turned every 3 days for 9 days. All this moving around starts the fermentation process, and when you pack the bottom of the frame with this stuff, it will provide heat long enough to grow a crop of winter produce. Once the manure has finished "cooking" and the crop is harvested, the poop will have turned into lovely rich soil you can put on your garden.
So I'll leave you with a list of links to explore. Lots of different ways to build hotbeds, so hopefully you can sort out the best one for your circumstances. We're always looking for ways to add to our food supply, especially if we can cut expenses in the process. Hotbeds seems to be a great way to use a ready source of raw material (thanks Gemini!) and also to relearn an "off-grid" skill from the past.
Stewart, demonstrating his "intelligent" look.
Here's the two canine boys, napping. Notice Fergus' choice of pillow....
Aahhh, the after-dinner rawhide cigar. It's a dog's life!
Here's Ryder, vogueing for the camera. He's still a bull, and still for sale, but not for long. He'll get an appointment with the vet in December, and then his next stop will be freezer camp in 18 months or so.