May 12
The stock market dropped today in honor of the dead. Why Wall Street in New York feels threatened by events in Los Angeles, I cannot say, but they suspended trading shortly after the market opened.
The market is emotional. You wouldn’t think so, with investors plotting profit margins and EPS ratios. Money is a mathematical exercise. Yet the market remains illogical, rising when it should fall and falling for no reason at all. I have no doubt the emotion will pass. The stock market will reopen tomorrow, and buyers will buy what sellers have to sell, and Los Angeles will go back to the business of faking sincerity.
The news programs still bombard us with images of the airport blowing up. Washington politicians vow vengeance, though against whom they do not yet know. After a few hours, I can no longer stand it. Sarah likes the TV on for background noise. I prefer silence. I take the .22 from its place on the rack and walk the fields. I shoot a couple of jackrabbits. I rarely feel good about that, I do it only because people have hunted the coyotes so the jackrabbits breed unchecked. They eat our garden and our trees and our flowers. The dogs catch one now and again, but the sad truth is, without my regular efforts they would in a short time eat all the vegetation and starve.
The afternoon is warm and springlike. Sarah lets the chickens out to play in the mud. She throws them some kitchen scraps, and they crowd around excitedly, jockeying for position. They're not very picky about what they get. Other than citrus fruits, they'll eat about anything.
I milk the one goat who's already kidded, and Sarah feeds grain to the chickens and gathers eggs. Then we go inside and she washes the eggs while I begin a new batch of cheese. I made Gouda again today, one of my better cheeses. It’s not that difficult, once you know how: heat the milk to the right temperature, stir in the culture and let it set, stir in the rennet and let it set some more. Then I cut the cheese into cubes and let them sit, replace some of the whey with hot water, wait some more, and repeat. Then, when it’s sat as long as it needs to, I strain the curds and press them. Tomorrow, the cheese will be ready to wax, and then it goes into the cheese fridge to age for three months. The hardest part is waiting to find out how it came out!
I milk the one goat who's already kidded, and Sarah feeds grain to the chickens and gathers eggs. Then we go inside and she washes the eggs while I begin a new batch of cheese. I made Gouda again today, one of my better cheeses. It’s not that difficult, once you know how: heat the milk to the right temperature, stir in the culture and let it set, stir in the rennet and let it set some more. Then I cut the cheese into cubes and let them sit, replace some of the whey with hot water, wait some more, and repeat. Then, when it’s sat as long as it needs to, I strain the curds and press them. Tomorrow, the cheese will be ready to wax, and then it goes into the cheese fridge to age for three months. The hardest part is waiting to find out how it came out!
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