Cupcake Cracked Corn


Today, because I could tolerate it no longer, I dove into the Room of Requirement, kicked arse and took names.

I don’t know WHY it happens, I don’t know HOW it happens, but that room seems to have a mind of its own. I can impose strict, first born, PhD level organizational skills to it, but in a matter of days it starts to deteriorate into chaos once again. I think Entropy himself must have sublet the space without my permission.

I want to see his papers.

Anyway, there was a project in amongst the clutter that I decided I would tackle, once I uncovered it.



It had to be taken off the cob.

So I commenced.


It’s a tedious job of rubbing one cob against another to loosen the kernels. I felt a certain kinship with all people who have worked the land and still work it, without big machines to do this kind of task. I got a blister on my right palm.

Just sayin’.


Eventually, I got it all done. I now have some nice dried corn cobs to start fires with. Not many things go to waste around here.

And because I’m a photography fool, and I have cabin fever, I took a few little portraits…



Here’s the whole harvest:


Now, I cannot really feed this to the chickens. It needs to be cracked.

Enter Mr. P’s hand mill….


This is going to take a while.

And before the day is out, that back room is going to be mine again…..

for a while.


lime wild