Going Forward

Annie the goat was being mean, mean, mean to the Captain, so she and her cohorts were removed to a different pen. The next day, I found her in the chicken pen, stealing their food. I hobbled out as quickly as I was able and grabbed her up. She had effectively climbed up her cattle panel shelter and used it as a springboard to launch herself into the next corral, where she was free to go where she pleased. Randyman and I moved the fence to prevent any further escape. Two days later, I found her and her friends this time, BACK in the chicken pen once again. I grabbed her up and noticed the gate to their pen was wide open. I shoved them in and made sure it was latched properly. The following morning..they were out once again. Annie had figured out how to open the latch by herself. The gate is now CHAINED securely. If that doesn’t work, my only other option is an armed security guard.

She managed to completely redesign the shelter. 

This is why we cannot have nice things...

It’s been an interminably long month. Storm fronts have brought longer lasting pain and agony and so far there is no relief in sight. I had begged Miss EmmaLouMoo to wait until after we went to town for my infusions to have her calf. She did. She waited until about 20 min after we left. Not only did she not get my drift, she apparently also did not get the memo that I wanted a heifer.

So...meet Ed-a-bull. He’s wild as a March hair but has Emma’s sweet face, big eyes and long thick lashes, whereas, his sister has a rather ugly mug. Who said life was fair?

Prior to this my sweet niece and her son came visiting. Bruno pretty much threw me under the bus and was making over Ky every chance he got, and The Captain did the same. We had fun rendering tallow, eating, playing board games, playing with sheeple, shooting, and watching Ky practice with his crossbow. It was a great weekend.

Em went into ketosis shortly after calving. That is a metabolic disorder in which the output of the cow is greater than the intake and puts them in starvation mode. It is what her mother died from and I have been desperately trying to save her. I loaded her up and ran her into town to the vet where she got a bottle of dextrose IV and brought her home with a gallon of propylene glycol, to administer should she relapse. She did magnificently well for a week, scarfing down her grain and eating her hay like a champ, then relapsed. Nothing seemed to work. I was drenching her with the PG, getting myself slung around the milk room doing it, but managed to get it down her. The vet told me to only give it twice a day for two days and no more. She’s been battling us for a week, but we may be on the winning side now. She’s been out in deep pasture with Ed, and coming in at night to eat hay and grain. 

I went out to check on her tonite for the first time in a few days (TheMan has had to take care of everyone for me lately as I have been unable to do so myself). Her bag was fairly tight so I went ahead and milked out the 2 rear quarters. That was 3 gallons. She seemed happy and went back out to nibble on dinner then go eat grass.

I've been having to use a cane everywhere I go, so I can get back to the house again as pain and weakness have been a constant companion since our last trip to town. It's been determined that the infusion has not been working. (duh). Mister was kind enough to pick up my cane that I dropped and hand it back to me. It's Cider's job to do that, but he ran off to shop for cow pies. It's nice to know someone else has my back.

By day I have rendered 100 lb of tallow for making Whipped Body Butter to sell in the online store , as it is my biggest selling item. I am finding this the best time of year for me to use it as my hands get dry and chapped from pulling weeds and gardening. There are an impressive lineup of handmade soaps to sell now, and anyone wishing to buy several bars of mix and match for discount need to e-mail me with your choices as the website hasn't given me an option for that.

I am still working on getting in fencing for the chickens and radio fencing to contain the dogs by day so they can protect the sheep. All in all, it's a pretty big order just trying to get a few things done.

There have been some major challenges this year, with much sadness. More death in the family, which seems to be becoming a regular occurrence, with almost no time to allow my heart to heal. I've also lost some animal friends. As I lean more heavily on my faith and carry on I am  making some  decisions about the future. Some of these include downsizing and making it easier to get through my days, and easier for TheMan to get through his when I am too incapacitated to do my part, which has been more often than not, lately. These changes include selling the goats, this year's lamb crop and Miss EmmaLouMoo. I am hoping and praying that SushiMoo will be the cow I really need, as she will be my last. Mister is now out with the ranch cavvy and I am praying he does all right, as he fares poorly in a herd situation and at his advanced age it could have serious consequences.

The grass is greening up, a few flowers are making their appearance. Lilacs, tulips, pansies are doing their best to cheer me and remind me of the promise of Easter. As our Lord defeated death and the empty tomb gives promise of new life, so does spring come to lift my spirits. Death and loss and sickness and grief are parts of life on earth and none of us can avoid them, but so is new birth, life, beauty and awe. To paraphrase the apostle Paul, I must remind myself to "Think on these things…"

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Taking the "Punk" out of Punkin Pie

Food! What a topic to write about. I hope this doesn't cause anyone to lose their appetite. It's that time of year again and as I rock back on my porch and reminisce, it makes me think of the many pumpkin pies I have known, and how they have affected my life. Lets take a little trip down memory lane, shall we?

My earliest clear memory of actually making a pumpkin pie, was at my mother's. She had some of those really nifty, decorative pie plates with the nice picture and the recipe written right on the bottom, as part of the ceramic glaze. You know the ones I am talking about.

Mom happily went about making her picture perfect crust, whistling and humming and being all 'homey' as we were going to do this together. She took extra special care to make the edges especially beautiful, as this was Thanksgiving and therefore it deserved special effort. The next 15 minutes found her fussing back and forth, no longer humming OR whistling...but muttering to herself, and clearly frustrated. I could no longer stand the suspense and asked her what was wrong. She responded,

"I CANNOT find that darn recipe!!!Where ON EARTH did i put it???"

She was not happy with my obvious response and I inherited the pie plate. We had store bought pie that year.

Fast forward and you will see me in my own kitchen, cooking with my two young boys. 

"We are going to have a great time cooking Thanksgiving dinner together this year. What fun! What togetherness! What memories!"
I multi-task around the kitchen handling everything else, as I talk them thru how to make dessert. I am pretty sure it was Cody's job to put the sugar in the pie. His older brother Matt, agrees with me on this. What Cody did instead, is beyond me, but suffice it to say, that neither dogs, nor chickens will eat a pumpkin pie with no sugar...and your family sure as heck won't either!!

A year goes by. Another pumpkin pie sits on the table, center stage. We are pressuring Cody to eat his vegetables. He doesn't like vegetables, so we inform him that yes, indeed, he DOES like vegetables, because pumpkin is in fact, a squash!! Cody stops eating pumpkin pie for several years.

Time flies by, the boys have grown up and moved out on their own, but are coming for dinner. Cody sends me a recipe and asks me to PLEASE make this "2 layer, No-bake Pumpkin Pie" made with cream cheese and jello pudding....it has to be good cuz Bill Cosby is on the ad with it! He is willing to give squash another try, so out of great affection for my son, and concern for his health and well being, I assemble the pie and set it in the fridge overnite.

Dinner goes off without a hitch, and I happily bring out the two pies I have made. My own favorite homemade Dutch Apple, and Cody's choice, Bill Cosby's No-bake Pumpkin Pie.
Cody graciously volunteers to cut and serve, as I go about getting the whipping cream. I hear him proclaim

"MOM! You could make a fortune selling this pie!"

I beam happily, and with my best Betty Crocker-Marie Callendar-Martha Stewart toothy grin, I ask him

"It's that good?"

I step around the corner to see the entire family huddled over the pie plate...as I look on in horror, the uncut portion of the pie oozes forward and fills in the space recently vacated by the piece that Cody just removed.

"No, its not! But you'd never have to make another one, because it grows back!"

And that, boys and girls, is how we began the tradition of having Cheesecake at our holiday table.