Hungry?
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
chicken lady
I had a pretty great week. I needed one after the tragedy here at the farm.
I heard Spring peepers, I saw two robins land in the field, and some of the perenials are starting to pop their green heads. Spring, is always has that feeling of anticipating Christmas as a child for me. It is like our Mother is ready to give us her gifts again. She is very good like that. Perfect even.
So this weekend, cold crop seeds were bought, plans to erect my greenhouse asap, and tentative plans for the building of breeding pens were discussed.
It is never, ever boring here. Never.
My friend, (that I bought Izzy the Great Pyrenees from) brought over her bunny who was having problems with his digestion. He had wool block. I worked on him for a couple hours. and got him clean,. I gave him lots of hay, and electrolytes. He cleared right up in a couple days. When she dropped him off her 3 daughters came and ooh-ed and ah-ed over the baby rabbits, chicks, ducks, geese, dogs turkeys, and Earl.I forgot how young girls can fire off questions like rapid machine gun fire. I also forgot how loudly they can squeal. There is nothing better than to see pure delight like that. The littlest one got to hold little yellow fuzzy day old chicks. When she was done she just let go and the chick from a standing position, so I showed her how to lower her hands first before she let go. She did, and I praise her. She did this twenty more times, twenty more praises. I now can advertise "handdropped raised chicks"
I sold some Black Copper Marans to a lady who answered my add. She came an promptly paid me full price for my chicks. She mentioned she had a flock of 2011 Lakenvelders that she would like to sell. I really wanted to, but money is tight right now and she wanted a fair price for fifteen birds. Let's say the same price as the grocery bill for a family of five. I told her I would spread the word for her. Meanwhile, I stewed on the fact of getting these rare chickens here, 2011 models, a full flock, gorgeous, with two beautiful roosters. I told her if I sold a rabbit or two, I might be able to buy half her flock. I really wanted them.
After a while, I got a message from a breeder in Arkansas. He wanted a particular rabbit. No, he wanted more. and could I send him a list of what was available. Let's just say he was thrilled at the list, and took off driving that Friday night. Not too long after I got off the phone with him. He was impressed by my English Angoras. The wool density, the body type, and the face and ear set. We agreed on a price, he left shortly after, driving all night and meeting me at 1 pm on Saturday.
I couldn't be happier. My babies were going to a climate controlled rabbitry. Heated, air conditioned, and there is even internet access. he came ready with carriers, drinking cups and we chatted and I said good-bye to my babies, one at a time. I was so happy they were to be with him and his partner. I saw the love at first site, as I handed over my black tort. It is always a joyful moment when people see their rabbit for the first time. No matter how old, male or female, there is the moment of "Oh. Oh, Wow!" It is like all the love I put into them gets sent back out three fold. I whispered a good-bye, love you, have a wonderful life to each, exchanged papers, and off they went.
I just took a big breath when I finished the last paragraph. The kind of breath that when you pull the air in, then out again, it feels like it is feeding your soul, as well as your body. I miss them, I am happy for them, It all feels right. It reminds me that I am on the right path, which helps me body mind and spirit. I love those breaths. I have taken many this week.
So of course I immediately called the lady with the Lakenvelders and said I would buy her whole flock. We set it up for Sunday morning. I asked if that was ok, if I she would be at church, and no, she would not be at church. I secretly liked her already. Everybody goes to church here, except me, oddball me, black sheep me.
I soon get a messaged from my friend again, the friend with the rabbit I have, and first Mom to Izzie, my dog. It seems she bought a baby lamb, but after bringing it home, realized that, she, being pregnant, should not be caring for a baby lamb. I guess they can have the same nasty things that are found in kitty litter, and a couple of other things dangerous to a pregnant woman. She asked if I wanted him. How in the world do I say no to that?
How to Read Signs and Omens in Everyday Life
Great book.
His name is Charlie, because as Sophia let him suck on her fingers, she started quoting this little video. The name stuck. So we do out best to do an English accent when we talk to Charlie.
I am told Charlie is a baby Sulfolk. He is a bottle baby, 10 days old. His mother died, then his twin sister died. Charlie is an orphan. He is so sweet. Follows us around and waked me up to be fed in the middle of the night. Yes, he is in the house. :-) He is a baby!
So, it was time to study, very quickly about lamb care.
Next up, was the trip to the lady with the chickens. She lives an hour or so from me, on wonderful mountain roads, along streams, then rivers, then up to her farm A big farm. I liked her instantly. She has blue-kote splattered on her plaid coat. I was wearing almost the same coat, complete with the blue coat spatters.
She had a wonderful set up. I mean the deluxe coop townhouse set up. We went coop to coop. I ooh-ed and ah-ed. I was just like those little girls who came to my farm, but not as loud. And we talked. She is a small lady, pretty, even in her farm clothes, about 9 years older than me.We were instant friends. Her husband holds a government position. She is ex CIA, and a Bail Bond-Woman. No kidding. We talked about how difficult teens are to raise, we talked chickens and she gave me a good drink recipe. We talked about our kids, and her grandkids, and we talked about our love for the lives we have chosen.
Oh and her chickens. She had a heated building for the brooders, then some freestanding coops, the lovely townhouse coop with all the bells and whistles. She talked to her hens, and so did I. Rusty went and pet her dogs while we traveled to yet another coop. I could have talked to her all day, but it was cold, and spitting snow.
We loaded up the 15 Lakenvelders, then 3 light Brahmas, 19 hatching eggs, one Silkie chick and five Lakenvelder chicks, did the math, and exchanged the paper. Then we made a deal for me to bring my BC Maran Rooster Woodpile, to service her BC Maran hens, and I would get some eggs from them, or something else. We will meet again.
I just got done giving Charlie his bottle. I will need help from my British friends for new phrases or words I can use when talking to Charlie at three in the morning.
I can't wait until daylight to go see my new flock and see if they have left me any Spring gifts.
Life is good. I can say I am recovered. Beyond that. I am stronger and wiser. I am a chicken lady, but not a lady who is chicken. I jumped back in, after licking my wounds, I am so glad I did. A reminder to never give up. If I do, I will miss all of the good stuff, just waiting for me.
Big breath. Want to take one with me and let all the life in? It is going to be OK. Promise.
~crow
I went to visit my bloggy friend Eden and felt like some sychronicty was happening so I came back and joined in to be a part of: Eden's:
I heard Spring peepers, I saw two robins land in the field, and some of the perenials are starting to pop their green heads. Spring, is always has that feeling of anticipating Christmas as a child for me. It is like our Mother is ready to give us her gifts again. She is very good like that. Perfect even.
So this weekend, cold crop seeds were bought, plans to erect my greenhouse asap, and tentative plans for the building of breeding pens were discussed.
It is never, ever boring here. Never.
My friend, (that I bought Izzy the Great Pyrenees from) brought over her bunny who was having problems with his digestion. He had wool block. I worked on him for a couple hours. and got him clean,. I gave him lots of hay, and electrolytes. He cleared right up in a couple days. When she dropped him off her 3 daughters came and ooh-ed and ah-ed over the baby rabbits, chicks, ducks, geese, dogs turkeys, and Earl.I forgot how young girls can fire off questions like rapid machine gun fire. I also forgot how loudly they can squeal. There is nothing better than to see pure delight like that. The littlest one got to hold little yellow fuzzy day old chicks. When she was done she just let go and the chick from a standing position, so I showed her how to lower her hands first before she let go. She did, and I praise her. She did this twenty more times, twenty more praises. I now can advertise "hand
I sold some Black Copper Marans to a lady who answered my add. She came an promptly paid me full price for my chicks. She mentioned she had a flock of 2011 Lakenvelders that she would like to sell. I really wanted to, but money is tight right now and she wanted a fair price for fifteen birds. Let's say the same price as the grocery bill for a family of five. I told her I would spread the word for her. Meanwhile, I stewed on the fact of getting these rare chickens here, 2011 models, a full flock, gorgeous, with two beautiful roosters. I told her if I sold a rabbit or two, I might be able to buy half her flock. I really wanted them.
After a while, I got a message from a breeder in Arkansas. He wanted a particular rabbit. No, he wanted more. and could I send him a list of what was available. Let's just say he was thrilled at the list, and took off driving that Friday night. Not too long after I got off the phone with him. He was impressed by my English Angoras. The wool density, the body type, and the face and ear set. We agreed on a price, he left shortly after, driving all night and meeting me at 1 pm on Saturday.
I couldn't be happier. My babies were going to a climate controlled rabbitry. Heated, air conditioned, and there is even internet access. he came ready with carriers, drinking cups and we chatted and I said good-bye to my babies, one at a time. I was so happy they were to be with him and his partner. I saw the love at first site, as I handed over my black tort. It is always a joyful moment when people see their rabbit for the first time. No matter how old, male or female, there is the moment of "Oh. Oh, Wow!" It is like all the love I put into them gets sent back out three fold. I whispered a good-bye, love you, have a wonderful life to each, exchanged papers, and off they went.
I just took a big breath when I finished the last paragraph. The kind of breath that when you pull the air in, then out again, it feels like it is feeding your soul, as well as your body. I miss them, I am happy for them, It all feels right. It reminds me that I am on the right path, which helps me body mind and spirit. I love those breaths. I have taken many this week.
So of course I immediately called the lady with the Lakenvelders and said I would buy her whole flock. We set it up for Sunday morning. I asked if that was ok, if I she would be at church, and no, she would not be at church. I secretly liked her already. Everybody goes to church here, except me, oddball me, black sheep me.
I soon get a messaged from my friend again, the friend with the rabbit I have, and first Mom to Izzie, my dog. It seems she bought a baby lamb, but after bringing it home, realized that, she, being pregnant, should not be caring for a baby lamb. I guess they can have the same nasty things that are found in kitty litter, and a couple of other things dangerous to a pregnant woman. She asked if I wanted him. How in the world do I say no to that?
 |
| black sheep |
How to Read Signs and Omens in Everyday Life
Great book.His name is Charlie, because as Sophia let him suck on her fingers, she started quoting this little video. The name stuck. So we do out best to do an English accent when we talk to Charlie.
I am told Charlie is a baby Sulfolk. He is a bottle baby, 10 days old. His mother died, then his twin sister died. Charlie is an orphan. He is so sweet. Follows us around and waked me up to be fed in the middle of the night. Yes, he is in the house. :-) He is a baby!
So, it was time to study, very quickly about lamb care.
Next up, was the trip to the lady with the chickens. She lives an hour or so from me, on wonderful mountain roads, along streams, then rivers, then up to her farm A big farm. I liked her instantly. She has blue-kote splattered on her plaid coat. I was wearing almost the same coat, complete with the blue coat spatters.
She had a wonderful set up. I mean the deluxe coop townhouse set up. We went coop to coop. I ooh-ed and ah-ed. I was just like those little girls who came to my farm, but not as loud. And we talked. She is a small lady, pretty, even in her farm clothes, about 9 years older than me.We were instant friends. Her husband holds a government position. She is ex CIA, and a Bail Bond-Woman. No kidding. We talked about how difficult teens are to raise, we talked chickens and she gave me a good drink recipe. We talked about our kids, and her grandkids, and we talked about our love for the lives we have chosen.
Oh and her chickens. She had a heated building for the brooders, then some freestanding coops, the lovely townhouse coop with all the bells and whistles. She talked to her hens, and so did I. Rusty went and pet her dogs while we traveled to yet another coop. I could have talked to her all day, but it was cold, and spitting snow.
We loaded up the 15 Lakenvelders, then 3 light Brahmas, 19 hatching eggs, one Silkie chick and five Lakenvelder chicks, did the math, and exchanged the paper. Then we made a deal for me to bring my BC Maran Rooster Woodpile, to service her BC Maran hens, and I would get some eggs from them, or something else. We will meet again.
 |
| the new flock on the block the lakenvelders |
I just got done giving Charlie his bottle. I will need help from my British friends for new phrases or words I can use when talking to Charlie at three in the morning.
I can't wait until daylight to go see my new flock and see if they have left me any Spring gifts.
Life is good. I can say I am recovered. Beyond that. I am stronger and wiser. I am a chicken lady, but not a lady who is chicken. I jumped back in, after licking my wounds, I am so glad I did. A reminder to never give up. If I do, I will miss all of the good stuff, just waiting for me.
Big breath. Want to take one with me and let all the life in? It is going to be OK. Promise.
~crow
I went to visit my bloggy friend Eden and felt like some sychronicty was happening so I came back and joined in to be a part of: Eden's:
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
look ma! no hands
A snow storm came on thundering in on Sunday. We lost power here at the farm about 6.00pm. Trees and power lines were snapping all over West Virginia, and Virginia. I didn't know the extent, but I knew it was going to be a a rough clean-up. Power lines that travel through the mountains, through places there are no roads to access. I thought about the line workers, out there trying to fix the broken wires and blown transformers, while customers bitched and complained.
We decided we better go get some supplies. Yes, during the storm. Also, after the electricity went off. If it was up to me all this would be done before the storm, but Rusty has a sort of fearless style. This storm was no different than the hurricanes we faced in Florida. I like to feel prepared. Just some fuel, water and canned goods. Nothing crazy. Him, Oh, just some beer, perishables and doughnuts to last us through. If the inevitable happens, then we venture into the storm. Although this is exciting and filled with heart stopping action, driving on mountain roads that have not been plowed nor will see one, does make me white knuckle the door handle, and hold of my breath, as if that will help. Maybe it does. So off we went. Snow, wet heavy snow, falling down fast, while temperatures slowly dropped. Off we went to get my water, fuel and canned goods.
We ended up stopping a few times to see if people needed a tow. Most were ok. But at the Family Dollar store a woman was having a hard time getting her car out of the steep parking lot and onto the road. I got out and talked to her while Rusty and another guy tried to find a solid place to connect the chain to her car.
When the guys hollered to have her turn the wheel so the could connect the chain, she did so with her foot. The woman had no arms.
We chatted some more, until I wished her well, jumped back into the car, and we pulled her and her car up and onto the road. Stopping traffic. Success.
She was not afraid. This woman with no arms, got into her car and drove to the store, by herself in a bad storm, to pick up a few things.
I thought of my white knuckle grasp and of my fear. she had neither.
The power came back on this afternoon, Tuesday. I was collecting water from rain buckets and I saw a light turn on.
All is well. But it feels weird with all this noise and light. I guess you get used to what has been taken from you. It becomes normal. You adapt.
Just like the armless lady who drives in snow storms.
~crow
We decided we better go get some supplies. Yes, during the storm. Also, after the electricity went off. If it was up to me all this would be done before the storm, but Rusty has a sort of fearless style. This storm was no different than the hurricanes we faced in Florida. I like to feel prepared. Just some fuel, water and canned goods. Nothing crazy. Him, Oh, just some beer, perishables and doughnuts to last us through. If the inevitable happens, then we venture into the storm. Although this is exciting and filled with heart stopping action, driving on mountain roads that have not been plowed nor will see one, does make me white knuckle the door handle, and hold of my breath, as if that will help. Maybe it does. So off we went. Snow, wet heavy snow, falling down fast, while temperatures slowly dropped. Off we went to get my water, fuel and canned goods.
We ended up stopping a few times to see if people needed a tow. Most were ok. But at the Family Dollar store a woman was having a hard time getting her car out of the steep parking lot and onto the road. I got out and talked to her while Rusty and another guy tried to find a solid place to connect the chain to her car.
When the guys hollered to have her turn the wheel so the could connect the chain, she did so with her foot. The woman had no arms.
We chatted some more, until I wished her well, jumped back into the car, and we pulled her and her car up and onto the road. Stopping traffic. Success.
She was not afraid. This woman with no arms, got into her car and drove to the store, by herself in a bad storm, to pick up a few things.
I thought of my white knuckle grasp and of my fear. she had neither.
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| the river |
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| out on a main road following a plow truck |
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| I take photos between breath |
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| we made it home, and drove up the hill to tuck in all the animals |
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| home sweet home, in darkness |
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| the next day, the sun is shining and the temperature warms up |
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| it is so beautiful, even after the melt |
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| sling was here... now a chicken holds his place |
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| red, white and blue |
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| home |
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| nestled in |
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| the uphill barn house |
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| I let the ducks out to stretch their legs |
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| they think about it for awhile |
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| the geese love it |
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| happiness |
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| the turkeys seem unaffected |
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| penguins |
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| the four sebastopol geese |
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| beautiful moon |
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| big bear, the great pyrenees after a long night |
| juney, the puppy |
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| Izzy, inside the barn house, resting. good girl |
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| inside, snug as a bug we have an american chinchilla rabbit family |
The power came back on this afternoon, Tuesday. I was collecting water from rain buckets and I saw a light turn on.
All is well. But it feels weird with all this noise and light. I guess you get used to what has been taken from you. It becomes normal. You adapt.
Just like the armless lady who drives in snow storms.
~crow
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Guest Post: Rusty - A Recipe for Happiness
OK So Crow begrudgingly logged me in to do a guest post. Again. I like think that it is not my ego (but thanks for all the kind words on previous guest post) so much as it is the contemplative state I achieve on Friday or Saturday nights, knowing that the next day's schedule allows for a few extra ales or lagers, and a few more minutes or sleep, or the satisfaction of knowing that (although I love my job) the coming day is full of productivity on things that make Crow and I happy. Full of elbow-grease and tidying up loose ends and maybe shoveling a stall or two, or sorting through salvaged produce for crisp greens for the various fowl, or splitting old locust logs into kindling and smallwood burners for the kitchen woodstove...
Those things make me happy. So if you see what Crow and I do here, and you see the level of happiness, keep in mind that it is mostly because those day to day things are things that we knew would be enjoyable, and difficult, all at the same time. This place is a paradise, but only for those who find satisfaction and peacefulness is hard work and the expenditure of effort for things they can call their own. At least that is my view of it. Crow's may differ, depending on the day, phase of the moon, etc... I don't really know. That is a secret I haven't shared here. Despite our connectedness and beautiful story of meeting each other, and how well we mesh, I generally have absolutely not goddam idea what she is on about, usually. For example, a few nights ago I came home from work:
She had sent me an email while I was at work, telling me about all the kind folks in one of her "Duck Groups" or "Poultry Groups" (Sorry if you are a member and reading this, you really DO all sort of blend together for me, but NOT for Crow) who had heard about the subject matter of the last post (sorta my fault) and had started sending gift certificates for a certain hatchery, lets call it "Bob's", so she could replace the losses. Her email read (and I am paraphrasing "Holy SHIT! I was really sad but so many kind people are offering to send stuff to help replace what I lost because they heard the story and that makes me feel better, but Holy SHIT! What if I use that to get more and then something bad happens to them?" So I emailed her back something like "Please take some pork chops out of the freezer. I think we also have some frozen turnip greens. I will be working a little bit late. About the ducks and chickens, etc... we will talk when I get home, but I think they are just being nice, so you are not obligated to create a miracle just because they are being nice. Thank them for being nice, and then stop feeling guilty or whatever subtle emotion you are feeling that I don't have words for and can't really understand. Also, please feed Izzy I forgot to feed her last night."
Because the farm stuff is my weekend interest, while throughout the week I do ecological consulting. I can't explain what that entails, because its mostly just doing what I think is appropriate and billing various clients. Crow, however, knows each animal like it was her baby. They are all her babies.
So I got home from work, and eventually started to unwind on the couch, killing time while reading various news on my laptop. Crow spoke up (that is her favorite time to tell me stuff) "So they sent all this gift certificate stuff to Bob's, I'd like you to look at this breed of duck, because it might be hardier than the runners."
"Who?" I asked, because the 'Bob's' name didn't ring a bell.
"All those kind people who sent certificates so that I could replace the losses" Crow said.
"Right, they sent the stuff. I get that. So what are you asking?" I said.
"Well I am wondering about the etc. etc. etc. at Bob's for the stuff they sent." said Crow.
"Who?" I asked
"The nice people" said Crow.
I wanted to scream, but I didn't want to scare Bella the beagle who was on my lap doing her traditional Bella weaseling. I just nodded and said "MmmHmmm" because I was too tired to explain why I kept asking "Who?" Bob's is. It grew quiet again. I went back to reading.
She spoke up again "I was talking to Nicky and she was telling me etc. etc. etc. about Bob's, so what do you think about etc. etc." Here was my chance, so I asked her, very plainly "Who?"
"You know, Nicky," said Crow, "remember when she came here and she was moving and she brought all the ducks and geese..."
I wanted to scream again. Who in the hell was 'Bob's'? (By the way, Nicky, I will never forget you, your talks and subsequent visit here with Crow injected a whole new level of interest, and you gave her so much trust, and you got to eat a part of Slingblade, and we shared a smoke... I knew who she was talking about when she said Nicky :-) "
So that is my example of how I hardly ever know what she is going on about. Just one example. There are probably lots of them, more than I even know. But it doesn't matter, because I know who she is, and she knows who I am, and even if we don't know what the other is talking about, we know where they are coming from.
But I don't know if any of the readers here really know where I am coming from. Probably very few, because I have only posted a few entries here. So tonight I thought I would share something at the core of where I am coming from. Yes, I know, that was a long prelude. That is because I was doing lots of other stuff in the interim and couldn't figure how to transition. So here goes - a recipe for happiness. I made this tonight and I am eating it right now. It is a local variation on Chili con carne:
1 1/2 lbs. fresh ground pork sausage with Taylor's spicy seasoning
1 1/2 lbs. fresh ground venison
2 TBSP. of olive oil (unless the venison was ground with some fatty meat, in which case you won't need oil"
1 small can of RO-TEL diced tomatoes and green chilis
1 small can of RO-TEL tomato sauce with green chilis
(I say small can because I can't be bothered to read the label. I just know that it is good. I'm guessing about 8 ounces each)
5 medium, juicy tomatoes, diced
Two large green bell peppers, diced
One quart of fresh-shelled October beans grown by the neighbor (I don't know of a supermarket equivalent, not sure if there is one or not)
Two cups of soaked pinto beans
Four cups of soaked kidney beans
One large onion
Twelve - 16 oz bottles of a hoppy IPA (Harpoon is OK, Lucky Star is also nice, but feel free to have fun with this one)
5 TBSP Coarse ground black pepper
3 TBSP coarse salt
2 TBSP fine paprika
1TBSP fine cinnamon powder
1/2 cup cola (RC, if you can get it :-))
1TBSP crushed, dried Cayenne
Finish at least two bottle of IPA before starting.
Brown the sausage in a large stock pot. Don't drain it. Taylor's doesn't add fat, anyway. Add half of the spices, at various intervals, as you feel like it, while having another IPA. Let the sausage get really brown. If it starts to get too hot or smell of burning, sploosh a little of the IPA on it to cool it. Keep stirring it. Try a hard plastic spatula, then a metal one. Spend a few minutes looking for the spatula - if you find it in the dishwater then rinse it really well and continue. Butter knives work OK, too, just make sure you don't let the sausage stick in the stock pot.
Once it is nice and brown and the whole house smells of sausage, open the ROTEL cans. Both of them. Pour them onto the sausage and stir. Add some IPA if you want, maybe just a sploosh. Whatever amount feels stylish and awesome. Taste the stuff in the pot. Taste some more. Spoon out a little bowl of it and eat it, and get another IPA.
Set that pot on the back burner, on low heat. Get out a frying pan and place the ground venison in it, along with the olive oil, on medium heat. Chop the hell out of it with the spatula (either one, but if you are using a teflon coated pan, go easy with the metal spatula) as it browns in the oil. At some point, it will be about half brown and half pink. That is a good time to spread it all over the pan evenly and get another beer. Yeah, I don't know what happened to the other one, either. No way in hell I already drank the whole thing.
Go ahead and start the hunt for the cutting board. It will take awhile. Once you find it, you should probably have another drink. Then find the cinnamon and the paprika. I am not even sure what the paprika adds, its just that I did it once in my chili and I thought it was great so now I always use it. We don't use paprika in anything else that I know of, so between chili cooking intervals it has a way of hiding in the very back of the highest cabinet, behind the green food coloring and the dog antibiotics with two tablets left. Because it is such a high cabinet you may want to push a stool over, but remember that the three legged ones are unstable. So have another drink, muster up your willpower (it all smells so good at this point) and push the tekewood Balinesian bench across the hardwood into the kitchen and stand on that. It is very stable.
So now, the venison is ready to be seasoned. If you can't remember whether you did already, or not, its OK. Just do it again. Then stir it up some more and finish that current beer while you add the soaked beans to the other pot that has the sausage and stuff. Stir all that, and crank the heat up to halfway between medium and high. Drink.
Stir the venison. Do that same cool-off trick you did with the sausage, keeping in mind that you should drink more than you cool with, because the pan is shallow and you don't want to spill the beer onto the burner. Taste the vension. Clear your palate with beer. Add some of the red pepper. Taste again. Finish the current beer.
Did we chop the pepper and onion yet? Who cares, if we did, we're good, take a break and have a beer. If not, we're good, do that now and have a beer.
Add that stuff, the vension, the chopped pepper and onion, and any drained, soaked beans that you havent added, to the stock pot. If there is anything else laying around that looks like it might belong in the pot, put that in, too. If you drained everything correctly, the stock pot is almost full to the top with a really thick, steamy mess of ground meat and beans. It needs more liquid. Sacrifice a beer, except for one big gulp. Stir it all up. Put the rest of the spices in, and put a lid on the stock pot. Turn the heat down to simmer and go feed the dogs. Surf the web a little and have some more beer.
After awhile, you will smell the sweet gloriousness wafting in from the kitchen. That is your cue to taste it. Add whatever you think it needs. Probably nothing at this point. Ladle a large bowlful and kick yourself that you didn't think about cornbread. Grab another beer and settle onto the couch, and smile to yourself that life is so awesome.
Those things make me happy. So if you see what Crow and I do here, and you see the level of happiness, keep in mind that it is mostly because those day to day things are things that we knew would be enjoyable, and difficult, all at the same time. This place is a paradise, but only for those who find satisfaction and peacefulness is hard work and the expenditure of effort for things they can call their own. At least that is my view of it. Crow's may differ, depending on the day, phase of the moon, etc... I don't really know. That is a secret I haven't shared here. Despite our connectedness and beautiful story of meeting each other, and how well we mesh, I generally have absolutely not goddam idea what she is on about, usually. For example, a few nights ago I came home from work:
She had sent me an email while I was at work, telling me about all the kind folks in one of her "Duck Groups" or "Poultry Groups" (Sorry if you are a member and reading this, you really DO all sort of blend together for me, but NOT for Crow) who had heard about the subject matter of the last post (sorta my fault) and had started sending gift certificates for a certain hatchery, lets call it "Bob's", so she could replace the losses. Her email read (and I am paraphrasing "Holy SHIT! I was really sad but so many kind people are offering to send stuff to help replace what I lost because they heard the story and that makes me feel better, but Holy SHIT! What if I use that to get more and then something bad happens to them?" So I emailed her back something like "Please take some pork chops out of the freezer. I think we also have some frozen turnip greens. I will be working a little bit late. About the ducks and chickens, etc... we will talk when I get home, but I think they are just being nice, so you are not obligated to create a miracle just because they are being nice. Thank them for being nice, and then stop feeling guilty or whatever subtle emotion you are feeling that I don't have words for and can't really understand. Also, please feed Izzy I forgot to feed her last night."
Because the farm stuff is my weekend interest, while throughout the week I do ecological consulting. I can't explain what that entails, because its mostly just doing what I think is appropriate and billing various clients. Crow, however, knows each animal like it was her baby. They are all her babies.
So I got home from work, and eventually started to unwind on the couch, killing time while reading various news on my laptop. Crow spoke up (that is her favorite time to tell me stuff) "So they sent all this gift certificate stuff to Bob's, I'd like you to look at this breed of duck, because it might be hardier than the runners."
"Who?" I asked, because the 'Bob's' name didn't ring a bell.
"All those kind people who sent certificates so that I could replace the losses" Crow said.
"Right, they sent the stuff. I get that. So what are you asking?" I said.
"Well I am wondering about the etc. etc. etc. at Bob's for the stuff they sent." said Crow.
"Who?" I asked
"The nice people" said Crow.
I wanted to scream, but I didn't want to scare Bella the beagle who was on my lap doing her traditional Bella weaseling. I just nodded and said "MmmHmmm" because I was too tired to explain why I kept asking "Who?" Bob's is. It grew quiet again. I went back to reading.
She spoke up again "I was talking to Nicky and she was telling me etc. etc. etc. about Bob's, so what do you think about etc. etc." Here was my chance, so I asked her, very plainly "Who?"
"You know, Nicky," said Crow, "remember when she came here and she was moving and she brought all the ducks and geese..."
I wanted to scream again. Who in the hell was 'Bob's'? (By the way, Nicky, I will never forget you, your talks and subsequent visit here with Crow injected a whole new level of interest, and you gave her so much trust, and you got to eat a part of Slingblade, and we shared a smoke... I knew who she was talking about when she said Nicky :-) "
So that is my example of how I hardly ever know what she is going on about. Just one example. There are probably lots of them, more than I even know. But it doesn't matter, because I know who she is, and she knows who I am, and even if we don't know what the other is talking about, we know where they are coming from.
But I don't know if any of the readers here really know where I am coming from. Probably very few, because I have only posted a few entries here. So tonight I thought I would share something at the core of where I am coming from. Yes, I know, that was a long prelude. That is because I was doing lots of other stuff in the interim and couldn't figure how to transition. So here goes - a recipe for happiness. I made this tonight and I am eating it right now. It is a local variation on Chili con carne:
1 1/2 lbs. fresh ground pork sausage with Taylor's spicy seasoning
1 1/2 lbs. fresh ground venison
2 TBSP. of olive oil (unless the venison was ground with some fatty meat, in which case you won't need oil"
1 small can of RO-TEL diced tomatoes and green chilis
1 small can of RO-TEL tomato sauce with green chilis
(I say small can because I can't be bothered to read the label. I just know that it is good. I'm guessing about 8 ounces each)
5 medium, juicy tomatoes, diced
Two large green bell peppers, diced
One quart of fresh-shelled October beans grown by the neighbor (I don't know of a supermarket equivalent, not sure if there is one or not)
Two cups of soaked pinto beans
Four cups of soaked kidney beans
One large onion
Twelve - 16 oz bottles of a hoppy IPA (Harpoon is OK, Lucky Star is also nice, but feel free to have fun with this one)
5 TBSP Coarse ground black pepper
3 TBSP coarse salt
2 TBSP fine paprika
1TBSP fine cinnamon powder
1/2 cup cola (RC, if you can get it :-))
1TBSP crushed, dried Cayenne
Finish at least two bottle of IPA before starting.
Brown the sausage in a large stock pot. Don't drain it. Taylor's doesn't add fat, anyway. Add half of the spices, at various intervals, as you feel like it, while having another IPA. Let the sausage get really brown. If it starts to get too hot or smell of burning, sploosh a little of the IPA on it to cool it. Keep stirring it. Try a hard plastic spatula, then a metal one. Spend a few minutes looking for the spatula - if you find it in the dishwater then rinse it really well and continue. Butter knives work OK, too, just make sure you don't let the sausage stick in the stock pot.
Once it is nice and brown and the whole house smells of sausage, open the ROTEL cans. Both of them. Pour them onto the sausage and stir. Add some IPA if you want, maybe just a sploosh. Whatever amount feels stylish and awesome. Taste the stuff in the pot. Taste some more. Spoon out a little bowl of it and eat it, and get another IPA.
Set that pot on the back burner, on low heat. Get out a frying pan and place the ground venison in it, along with the olive oil, on medium heat. Chop the hell out of it with the spatula (either one, but if you are using a teflon coated pan, go easy with the metal spatula) as it browns in the oil. At some point, it will be about half brown and half pink. That is a good time to spread it all over the pan evenly and get another beer. Yeah, I don't know what happened to the other one, either. No way in hell I already drank the whole thing.
Go ahead and start the hunt for the cutting board. It will take awhile. Once you find it, you should probably have another drink. Then find the cinnamon and the paprika. I am not even sure what the paprika adds, its just that I did it once in my chili and I thought it was great so now I always use it. We don't use paprika in anything else that I know of, so between chili cooking intervals it has a way of hiding in the very back of the highest cabinet, behind the green food coloring and the dog antibiotics with two tablets left. Because it is such a high cabinet you may want to push a stool over, but remember that the three legged ones are unstable. So have another drink, muster up your willpower (it all smells so good at this point) and push the tekewood Balinesian bench across the hardwood into the kitchen and stand on that. It is very stable.
So now, the venison is ready to be seasoned. If you can't remember whether you did already, or not, its OK. Just do it again. Then stir it up some more and finish that current beer while you add the soaked beans to the other pot that has the sausage and stuff. Stir all that, and crank the heat up to halfway between medium and high. Drink.
Stir the venison. Do that same cool-off trick you did with the sausage, keeping in mind that you should drink more than you cool with, because the pan is shallow and you don't want to spill the beer onto the burner. Taste the vension. Clear your palate with beer. Add some of the red pepper. Taste again. Finish the current beer.
Did we chop the pepper and onion yet? Who cares, if we did, we're good, take a break and have a beer. If not, we're good, do that now and have a beer.
Add that stuff, the vension, the chopped pepper and onion, and any drained, soaked beans that you havent added, to the stock pot. If there is anything else laying around that looks like it might belong in the pot, put that in, too. If you drained everything correctly, the stock pot is almost full to the top with a really thick, steamy mess of ground meat and beans. It needs more liquid. Sacrifice a beer, except for one big gulp. Stir it all up. Put the rest of the spices in, and put a lid on the stock pot. Turn the heat down to simmer and go feed the dogs. Surf the web a little and have some more beer.
After awhile, you will smell the sweet gloriousness wafting in from the kitchen. That is your cue to taste it. Add whatever you think it needs. Probably nothing at this point. Ladle a large bowlful and kick yourself that you didn't think about cornbread. Grab another beer and settle onto the couch, and smile to yourself that life is so awesome.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
puzzled
We had a little tragedy here at the farm. Due to a heater in the uphill barn house too much carbon monoxide built up and suddenly took out many of my ducks and chicks. Everybody up there is either a rabbit, a hospital patient, or too young or fragile or precious to be mixed in with the flock. I lost many. Too many to list.
I originally thought it was the food or water and in a panic removed it all, but when more birds began to die, that had been fed different food and different water, I knew it was not that. It happened too quickly if it was an illness, as they would have got sick at intervals. Not all drop at once. By the time I figured it out, more were going down hill. Rusty and I rushed to open windows and pump fresh air in. We desperately picked up ducks and brought then to the windows, attempted to keep them awake so they would keep breathing and cycle the carbon monoxide out. We worked on everybody. Talking to them, holding them. Trying to will them back, when they had no more will in them to come back. For many it was too late.
All I could do after the house aired out was to make them nice cozy nests and keep warming lights on. After being emotionally and physically exhausted, I said goodnight to them and tucked them all in.
This morning, as much as I had hoped for the best, it was somewhat expected to walk in and see that all the birds that were affected badly the night before, did not, in fact, make it through the night. I guess I went into shock, and systematically picked up dead birds and stacked them in a box. I then cared for all of the survivors and went outside with ice pick in hand to break the thick ice in the all of the water bins and pools. I broke the pick doing so.
It has been a tough week.
Last week, I found out the results of my thoracic MRI on my back. Basically, from discs 5-6 all the way to 10-11 are bad. That was just the middle back scan. I have yet to have them do a scan on the cervical or lumbar. The neurologist said it would likely get worse.
Also, I found out that my 24 hour heart holter showed "frequent PVCs" (nothing new just documented) and some sort of tachycardia event. I have an appointment at the cardiologist. I went through all of this in FL. Beta blockers make my blood pressure drop too low, and heart anti-arrhythmia medicine makes my heart go crazy.I was set to get a cardiac ablation in FL, but my heart specialist felt the need to tell me how I needed to find Jesus and gave me a bible at one of my appointments. He had obviously saw what I listed as my religion when I was in the cardiac unit at the hospital. A heart ablation is when they go in through your groin up the main artery to the heart and kill the misfiring cells. Imagine, me letting this doctor burn this witch's heart. I left and never went back to him. I refused to pay the copay too. (I am so tough.) My primary doctor was LIVID when he found out and called the specialist up while I waited in the exam room. The walls were thin. He was mad, swearing mad. I was supposed to go to another specialist, but I moved and I have been busy healing myself, and stuff here.
The weird thing is, I feel, as a whole person, much better than I ever had. I feel healthier, even though all hell might be breaking loose around me. I feel more strong, satisfied and centered.
How is that?
Anyway, I was not happy hearing I was worse. I am better, damn it! I hated loosing the very little ones I had brought in or raised up, and had an obligation to protect. I do not like things happening that is beyond my control... because I would have to admit that there are things that are beyond my control. Ok. Fine I admit it. BUT. I do not have to succumb to it. I do have control of how I react to what life gives me and what I choose to do with it.
Not everything was tough this week.
I learned a whole bunch. I got many surprises.
An artisan crow necklace came from Nicky, my wonderful friend who when moving to Scotland gave me her ducks and geese to care for. I held the clay crow pendant in my hand today, thinking of her.
A card from my Mom and Stepfather that said they were proud of who I have grown to be.
A box of hospital supplies, from my dear bloggy friend. I mean everything. More about this later.
Same friend left a song for me... One of my very favorites that I haven't heard in a long, long time. It was spooky that she left this for me. Good spooky. I got the chills.
Today I received an awesome homesteading book from my brother with a live lizard that hopped out of the box when I opened it. (Spooky time) Immediately, I had to look up the Animal Medicine Card for the Lizard. I mean I had just got done stacking up dead birds, when I came inside and sat down to open the box. Here is what the lizard card says:
Just tonight and out of the blue, I got something back that I wrote to a friend when I first moved here. (He is a healer, a clergy man, and obviously a tad in tune with the flow.) Here is part of what I wrote:
I know the body is the last red flag that the ship will go down if you do not go down to the hull and see the hole. I have to tell my cells and organs that have lived so long in battle, that they/we have won. I have to go there, not for long, but I have to visit the core. I travel as not a victim, but as a victor.
I would say my ship is sailing despite the rough seas. More good spooky stuff.
Today, as I told my bird friends or (friends with birds) about my farm tragedy, I got messages of love and support. Offers to help, and loads of compassion. When something like this happens, what you need most is to feel loved. I do. Nobody judged me, as I tried very hard not to judge myself.Thank you all.
Perhaps in all of this is the answer to my question above:
How is that?
I guess I have to add it all up. All the pieces to the puzzle are always right there in front of us on the table of life. One just has to figure out how to put together all the pieces.Nothing like death to make you go back to the basics of puzzle solving.
I better stop rambling and get some sleep.
good night, or good morning-- good everything
~crow
I originally thought it was the food or water and in a panic removed it all, but when more birds began to die, that had been fed different food and different water, I knew it was not that. It happened too quickly if it was an illness, as they would have got sick at intervals. Not all drop at once. By the time I figured it out, more were going down hill. Rusty and I rushed to open windows and pump fresh air in. We desperately picked up ducks and brought then to the windows, attempted to keep them awake so they would keep breathing and cycle the carbon monoxide out. We worked on everybody. Talking to them, holding them. Trying to will them back, when they had no more will in them to come back. For many it was too late.
All I could do after the house aired out was to make them nice cozy nests and keep warming lights on. After being emotionally and physically exhausted, I said goodnight to them and tucked them all in.
This morning, as much as I had hoped for the best, it was somewhat expected to walk in and see that all the birds that were affected badly the night before, did not, in fact, make it through the night. I guess I went into shock, and systematically picked up dead birds and stacked them in a box. I then cared for all of the survivors and went outside with ice pick in hand to break the thick ice in the all of the water bins and pools. I broke the pick doing so.
It has been a tough week.
Last week, I found out the results of my thoracic MRI on my back. Basically, from discs 5-6 all the way to 10-11 are bad. That was just the middle back scan. I have yet to have them do a scan on the cervical or lumbar. The neurologist said it would likely get worse.
Also, I found out that my 24 hour heart holter showed "frequent PVCs" (nothing new just documented) and some sort of tachycardia event. I have an appointment at the cardiologist. I went through all of this in FL. Beta blockers make my blood pressure drop too low, and heart anti-arrhythmia medicine makes my heart go crazy.I was set to get a cardiac ablation in FL, but my heart specialist felt the need to tell me how I needed to find Jesus and gave me a bible at one of my appointments. He had obviously saw what I listed as my religion when I was in the cardiac unit at the hospital. A heart ablation is when they go in through your groin up the main artery to the heart and kill the misfiring cells. Imagine, me letting this doctor burn this witch's heart. I left and never went back to him. I refused to pay the copay too. (I am so tough.) My primary doctor was LIVID when he found out and called the specialist up while I waited in the exam room. The walls were thin. He was mad, swearing mad. I was supposed to go to another specialist, but I moved and I have been busy healing myself, and stuff here.
The weird thing is, I feel, as a whole person, much better than I ever had. I feel healthier, even though all hell might be breaking loose around me. I feel more strong, satisfied and centered.
How is that?
Anyway, I was not happy hearing I was worse. I am better, damn it! I hated loosing the very little ones I had brought in or raised up, and had an obligation to protect. I do not like things happening that is beyond my control... because I would have to admit that there are things that are beyond my control. Ok. Fine I admit it. BUT. I do not have to succumb to it. I do have control of how I react to what life gives me and what I choose to do with it.
Not everything was tough this week.
I learned a whole bunch. I got many surprises.
An artisan crow necklace came from Nicky, my wonderful friend who when moving to Scotland gave me her ducks and geese to care for. I held the clay crow pendant in my hand today, thinking of her.
A card from my Mom and Stepfather that said they were proud of who I have grown to be.
A box of hospital supplies, from my dear bloggy friend. I mean everything. More about this later.
Same friend left a song for me... One of my very favorites that I haven't heard in a long, long time. It was spooky that she left this for me. Good spooky. I got the chills.
Today I received an awesome homesteading book from my brother with a live lizard that hopped out of the box when I opened it. (Spooky time) Immediately, I had to look up the Animal Medicine Card for the Lizard. I mean I had just got done stacking up dead birds, when I came inside and sat down to open the box. Here is what the lizard card says:
"Lizard medicine is the shadow side of reality where your dreams are reviewed
before you manifest them physically.
If you have a Lizard totem, listen to our own intuition above anyone else's.
Pay attention to your dreams for they show us
what we do not perceive when awake.
Dreams are shadows showing your fears and hopes.
Make a dream log and record your dreams.
Look for your symbolic and reoccurring dreams and study them carefully.
Lizard can also teach you to become more detached in life.
Sometimes it is necessary to separate yourself from others
to accomplish what is necessary.
Lizard helps you awaken the ability for objective detachment.
It can show you how to break from the past."
Just tonight and out of the blue, I got something back that I wrote to a friend when I first moved here. (He is a healer, a clergy man, and obviously a tad in tune with the flow.) Here is part of what I wrote:
I know the body is the last red flag that the ship will go down if you do not go down to the hull and see the hole. I have to tell my cells and organs that have lived so long in battle, that they/we have won. I have to go there, not for long, but I have to visit the core. I travel as not a victim, but as a victor.
I would say my ship is sailing despite the rough seas. More good spooky stuff.
Today, as I told my bird friends or (friends with birds) about my farm tragedy, I got messages of love and support. Offers to help, and loads of compassion. When something like this happens, what you need most is to feel loved. I do. Nobody judged me, as I tried very hard not to judge myself.Thank you all.
Perhaps in all of this is the answer to my question above:
How is that?
I guess I have to add it all up. All the pieces to the puzzle are always right there in front of us on the table of life. One just has to figure out how to put together all the pieces.Nothing like death to make you go back to the basics of puzzle solving.
I better stop rambling and get some sleep.
good night, or good morning-- good everything
~crow
Saturday, February 4, 2012
do you think I can do it?
He wouldn't be a pet.
Well, you know he would be a pet. But he would not stay a pet. He would become food for my family.
Should I? Rusty thinks I am too mushy. I think I can do it. All I have to do is trade him for a goat. That's it. I eat beef. So, how would this be any different than buying a burger or going out for a steak dinner?
Do you all think I can do it?
He is cute.
Well, you know he would be a pet. But he would not stay a pet. He would become food for my family.
Should I? Rusty thinks I am too mushy. I think I can do it. All I have to do is trade him for a goat. That's it. I eat beef. So, how would this be any different than buying a burger or going out for a steak dinner?
Do you all think I can do it?
He is cute.
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