The power of repurposing

A lot of ink has been spilled on the value of repurposing things that are old, broken, torn, or otherwise strong candidates for being thrown away. These are things that are deemed unsuitable for repair for whatever reason. 

The ability to repurpose things is not only ecologically sound, it's frugal. Here are some examples from our own life.

Our best-known repurposing, of course, was to turn old tractor tires into extraordinarily productive garden beds (at our last homestead). For newer readers, the history of our tire garden can be read here and here.

Here in our new place, we were delighted to learn the sellers had left behind a generous stack of sheet metal, bent and battered after being removed from a roof somewhere.

We have used this sheet metal for everything from making garden beds to roofing the woodshed, with more projects still to come.

And of course, there is the issue of my beloved and repurposed mayonnaise jugs.

We have some garbage cans filled with sawdust in the barn which I use to sop up moisture on the barn floor. To scoop the sawdust into a bucket for quick use, I've used everything from plastic shovels to trowels. But the very best thing I've found is a small shovel with a broken-off handle that was left behind by the previous owners when we bought our property. This little shovel has turned into the handiest thing.

Whenever I need something beefy but small and with a short handle, this is my go-to tool, such as the time I spent the afternoon digging dirt out of the cattle feed boxes.

Then recently, the cloth I used to strain fresh milk before putting it in the refrigerator finally got too ratty to be much use. I had been putting off using another cloth because I couldn't find one of just the right size to line the colander I use to hold it (and which fits neatly into the mouth of the plastic jugs I use to store milk). Then one day while hanging laundry, I noticed a bandana that had such a large hole in the middle that it was becoming functionally useless as a bandana. I cut it in half, folded that cut piece in half again, and voilà: The perfect straining cloth for milk. (And I have its other half tucked away for when I'll need it.)

Or how about our constant use of baling twine, the tough sturdy string that comes around hay bales. We carefully save every piece of this twine (rather than throwing it away) because it has a zillion and one uses. In fact, we've joked about christening our property Baling Twine Ranch.

Another item is old ratty tarps. Of what use are tarps that are torn or have holes in them, rendering them useless for keeping moisture off items? As it turns out, they have an extremely important use: Keeping other tarps from wearing out.

When hay is tarped, wind can rub holes in the tarps due to the constant abrasion from sharp pieces of hay. Tarps are not cheap, so it was frustrating to have this happen to brand-new tarps. What we've learned is to double-tarp the hay, laying ratty hole-y tarps down first to take the brunt of the abrasion, then securing newer non-hole-y tarps over the top to shed rain and snow. As a result, we've been able to keep our good tarps intact far longer. I don't know why it took us this long to realize this, but there you go.

We also cut up an old tarp and tacked it over the door frame of a shed as a temporary measure to keep rain out until Don could build a door. It works so well it may become permanent.

Another useful category of repurposed things are old sheets. They can be draped over shop tools to keep varnish spray from adhering to the tools. They can be used as drip cloths while painting (Don far prefers these than plastic drip cloths). Old sheets have so many purposes that we keep a large tote in  the shed so we can grab one whenever we need one.

For that matter, we can use totes that are otherwise broken for such storage purposes.

I'm sure there are many more examples of things we've repurposed, but these are some examples that spring to mind.

What about you? What are some things that would otherwise be candidates for tossing but to which you've given new life?

The hay is in!

Oof, we finally got all our hay delivered, stacked, and tarped.

We had ordered eight tons of oat hay from a local fellow. The cows go crazy over this stuff, so it's well worth it. However the bales – which are a regular small-bale size – are exceedingly heavy because they contain so many oats. They're on the order of 100 lbs each. At our age, Don and I don't relish lifting 160 such bales to get them stacked and under cover.

Thank God for the tractor. When the first two tons were delivered in August, it took us a long time (about eight hours) to get them stacked in the barn, partly because we were trying out various techniques and equipment to make the chore easier, and partly because it was such a tight fit to squeeze the tractor into the barn and place the hay on pallets.

Because of how long it took, we were dreading a triple repeat of this labor (the fellow was delivering the hay in two-ton increments). But we had no option.

Part of the problem with getting the hay stacked – aside from the weight of the bales, of course – was the difficulty in maneuvering the tractor in the tight confines of the barn. We have space in the middle of the barn for a lot of bales, but no space to move the machine to lift those bales into position ... and at 100 lbs. each, Don and I just didn't have the bandwidth to stack them by hand.

The grower delivered the second two-ton load on Oct. 8.

After he left, Don and I had some clearing away to do in the barn.

When that was finished, we prepared to move the bales indoors.

After all the fancy-shmancy planning we did for moving the first delivery of bales in August, the most useful tool proved to be two steel tines Don had custom-made by a metal-working neighbor, which were affixed to a bracket attached to the tractor bucket.

These stabbed the bales firmly.

Rather than trying to stack the bales on pallets in the barn, we decided to forego the pallets entirely and just stack the hay on the floor. This simplified and streamlined matters considerably, and we got that second delivery stacked in the barn in about four hours (vs. the eight hours with the previous delivery).

But when the third delivery arrived...

...we decided to not stack any more hay in the barn. Though there was (technically) plenty of room, the conditions were just too tight for the tractor. Instead, we planned to stack them in the driveway. We tarped the hay for the night to keep the dew off.

The next morning, we laid out pallets in the back driveway, between the house and the barn.

By this point we had realized it was unnecessary to stab the bales with the steel spikes at all, and could simply tumble a bale on top the spikes to transport it to the location. Coupled with the additional elbow room of working outside (rather than the tight squeeze of the barn), we got the third delivery stacked in about three hours.

Not more than an hour after we finished this task, Don came in and said the flock of turkeys that normally hangs out in the barnyard, scratching up the barn-waste pile, was on top the hay bales, avidly searching for oat seeds.

We didn't want the turkeys pooping all over the hay bales, so we shooed them off and lightly tarped the bales for the night.

The next day, the grower brought the final delivery of oat hay.

Once again we tarped the bales for the night.

The next morning we could see the morning sun steaming the dew off the tarp.

This is it. The last two tons to stack.

By this point, though, Don and I were working like a well-oiled machine: Him on the tractor following my hand signals, and me pushing bales onto the steel spikes and then directing Don where to place them.

This time we got those last two tons stacked inside a dazzling hour and a half.

A beautiful sight to see: Three pallets wide, five pallets deep, six bales per pallet, 90 bales stacked on a fairly small footprint.

We only had four bales left over, so we hoisted them one by one onto the hand truck and tucked them into the barn.

After resting from our exertions – and after shooing the flock of turkeys off the bales once again – we tarped the bales for the winter, tying the tarp to the pallets with twine and rope.

I can't tell you how relieved we are to have this chore behind us. With plenty of food for the cows for the winter, now we can turn our attention to other fall projects.

Incidentally, the grower told us he may not have oats for sale next year because he is planning on selling his farm. We were very sorry to hear that since he's a darned nice fellow and sells a wonderful product. We'll have to roll with the punches.

Maybe this applies to lottery winners?

I stumbled upon a bizarre little meme as follows: "When you get rich, remember this."

Rule 1: Tell no one, not even your parents.

Rule 2: Pay off your debts before anything else.

Rule 3: Let the money sit untouched for six months.

Rule 4: Don't upgrade your house right away.

Rule 5: Don't quit your job immediately.

Rule 6: Skip the flashy purchases.

Rule 7: Never go into business with friends or family.

Rule 8: This post didn't reach you by accident.

______________________

Maybe this applies to lottery winners? In any event, I'll keep this in mind in the unlikely event we ever get rich.

Ricotta cheese pizza sauce

A few day ago, I alluded to how I use a homemade ricotta cheese pizza sauce on my pizzas. Many of you were interested in the recipe.

I'm not overly fond of tomatoes, so when it comes to pizza sauce I opt for alternatives such as pesto sauce, Alfredo sauce, etc. When I came across a recipe for a garlicky ricotta cheese sauce, I decided to try it. Don was stopping at the grocery store in town, so I asked him to get me a container of ricotta. The recipe turned out terrific, and I decided I wanted to make a large batch, which I could then freeze into one-pizza serving sizes.

But when I went to the store to get a larger quantity of ricotta and saw the actual price Don had paid, I had an absolute snit-fit – $9 for two pounds, and I wanted at least four pounds of ricotta to make a large batch of pizza sauce. There was no way I was paying that price!

I'd never made ricotta before, but I'm getting a gallon of milk a day, so purchasing the store-bought stuff was, admittedly, a lazy move. Time to learn how to make my own.

Whole-milk ricotta requires only two ingredients (or possibly four, depending on what recipe you follow): Milk and an acidifier. Salt is optional, though it enhances the flavor and helps coagulate the milk proteins. Adding a bit of heavy cream to the milk creates a richer, silkier ricotta.

I started by pouring a gallon of whole milk into a pot. It's best not to use skim milk for making ricotta, as the results will be a cheese that is too dry.

I heated the milk (slowly) to between 185F to 195F.  This step takes 20 to 30 minutes or even longer, and is not a step to be rushed. I stirred the milk periodically.

Once the milk reached temperature, I added the acidifier. There are several different kinds of acidifiers that can be used, including citric acid (mixed with water), apple cider vinegar, lemon juice, or distilled white vinegar. Distilled white vinegar is the default acidifier and works extremely well. I used about two-thirds of a cup per gallon of milk.

After the acidifier is added, the curds should start separating from the whey almost immediately. You can see how the milk started curdling.

Then it was time to cover the pot and let the curds rest for anywhere from 20 minutes to two hours. The longer this resting period, the more curds will form. The curds should not be stirred during this resting period.

Next, I drained the ricotta. The longer it drains, the drier it will become. For a creamier consistency, it should be drained for one to two hours. For a firmer ricotta, drain it for around 24 hours. Somewhat arbitrarily, I drained mine for about four hours.

Here is what the final result looked like.

Trying to use up milk (and maximize the amount of pizza sauce), I made a second batch of ricotta the next day. I ended up with 3.5 lbs (56 ounces) of ricotta.

I stored this in the refrigerator overnight, then made pizza sauce the next day.

The recipe for ricotta white sauce is easy: Eight parts ricotta, four parts cream (or half and half), one part olive oil, and spices to taste. For one pizza, for example, the recipe called for one-half cup ricotta, one-quarter cup of cream, and one tablespoon olive oil (plus spices).

I had 56 ounces of ricotta, therefore I needed to add 28 ounces of cream or half and half (1.75 lbs.) and seven ounces of olive oil. It's worth noting that I measured the cream and olive oil by weight, not volume. Then I added salt, pepper, minced garlic, and basil until the taste was satisfactory. (Your choice of flavorings may vary.)

Adding cream to the ricotta:

Blending the ricotta with the cream was challenging because the ricotta was so thick. I used a potato masher to start...

...then graduated to beaters to blend all the rest of the ingredients and make a sauce.

The final sauce was somewhat lumpy from the ricotta, and that's as it should be.

Then I bagged it up in one-cup measurements for freezing.

In retrospect, I should have bagged up more per bag, anywhere from 1.5 to 2 cups. At any rate, it freezes well.

Labeling.

Now, whenever I make pizza, I can just reach for a bag, defrost it in the refrigerator overnight, and make pizza the next day.

So that's the trick for ricotta cheese pizza sauce. This is my kind of convenience food.