A Bowl Full of Memories

Good morning, Folks!

I realized last night, much to my chagrin, that it has been a full seven months since I last posted. Good grief! Life is BIG, people!

Facebook has a small part to play, I suppose, but I'm back with a subject that is so worthy of telling the world that I just had to break my unintentional blog silence...

IT'S STRAWBERRY SEASON IN OREGON!!!

Wondrous and amazing as that fact is all on its own, two other things related to this subject fill me with rapturous glee: 1) this year's crop of our own homegrown strawberries is very nearly perfect... and 2) they are so bountiful, I have enough to make STRAWBERRY DUMPLINGS!!!

These luscious, seasonal gems from my childhood are so far from the usual strawberry fare that they cause a very specific chain reaction of sensations when I eat them... the sum of which is, I am rendered helpless to look in any direction but into the bowl of creamy, chewy, not-too-sweet goodness and bob around in the memory-laden cream... eight years old, hearing my Grannee call from the kitchen, "Who's ready for another one?!"

All arms shoot up in the air... even those with bowls still half full of pink, milky loveliness.

My Grannee got the recipe from my Grandad's mother who was a German raised in Russia but had lived in the states long enough to have English-speaking children. This gave rise to lots of interesting pronunciations of foods that are neither truly German nor Russian making it nearly impossible to actually look up a recipe. I have played with both languages a little bit and have decided that the name Great Grandma called them, "Strobensclays," (spelled phonetically) is most likely a mixture of English and German because the Russian translation of Strawberry Dumpling doesn't sound anything like the word she used and is definitely not appetizing. The German word is "Erdbeerekloss," which if you try to smash "strawberry" into the front of it, and say it quickly to a mob of ravenous American kids in a heavy Russian/German accent, could come out sounding like "Strobensclass..." That's what I'm thinking, anyway. Maybe it was her own secret language. Who knows?

So, all this verbosity on my family history is to say that last night I made Strawberry Dumplings for the first time in years, for the first time ever with homegrown berries, for the first time ever for my kids... so that was a pretty big deal for me.

Anna picked, trimmed and cut all the berries which was a HUGE help!


I don't have a written recipe... I just remember what I saw Grannee do and what they tasted like so I have had to cobble together my own imprecise recipe.

For the strawberry filling, I used about two pints of berries for a small batch. Just enough for dessert. When Grannee made them, these golden packets of love were most often consumed as the main evening meal and required five to six times these proportions.

So, to the berries I added about a third of a cup of sugar.

Traditionally, crackers or bread crumbs are crushed up and mixed with the berries. I'm guessing this is to make the berries go further and well, the saltiness tastes really good with the sweet berries. I didn't have enough crackers OR breadcrumbs so I just made sourdough toast and buttered it, let it cool, cut it up into small-ish chunks and set it aside.

For the dough I used a standard Betty Crocker Egg Noodle recipe:

2 cups flour
3 egg yolks
1 egg
2 tsp. salt
1/4 to 1/2 cup water

(Here is where I use a food processor)
Measure flour into bowl, add egg yolks, whole egg and salt. Process until egg mixes thoroughly into the flour. Add water one tablespoon at a time mixing thoroughly after each addition but mix only until the dough forms a ball.

Kneed a couple of turns by hand just to bring it together, check the consistency and to feel like you actually participated in making the dough, then let it rest under a dish towel for about 10 minutes.

Roll dough into a rectangle about 1/8" thick (you don't want it too thin or it will pop when you boil it) and cut into squares.


Back to the strawberries...
Mix crackers/crumbs/toast into the strawberries and place a spoonful in the center of each square of noodle dough.

Pinch the tips of squares together and seal up the edges to make little packets. Try to keep the edges as clean as you can to avoid a bad seal.


Drop the finished packets into boiling water.

Fish them out when they start to float. This takes five minutes or less.



Drain and place cooked dumpling in a bowl and drizzle with heavy cream and melted butter.
Great Grandma used to top with buttered croutons also, but I don't remember Grannee doing it very often and I prefer to put more emphasis on the berries.

Top with fresh berries or uncooked filling for color and a layer of brightness in flavor.

A very important note to make here is that, personally, Grannee thought it was a SIN to boil a fresh Oregon strawberry and while she would make dumplings for everyone else, when it came her turn to eat (after everyone else had been fed, of course) she would boil the noodle dough scraps and top them with the uncooked berry mixture... thus preserving the color and texture of the fresh berries and averting strawberry abuse.


I swear to you, these little beauties are worth every ounce of effort they take and I have never met a soul who didn't say "OH, WOW!" upon their first bite.

As for me and mine... strawberry season just isn't long enough!

Enjoy 'em while they're here, Y'all!!

Snapshot of a bloggers absence

Yep. I've been MIA.

No, I haven't been trapped under anything heavy... except my life.

My life isn't "heavy" like a burden, there's just a LOT in it.

Like your favorite purse... it can be a lot to lug around, but you wouldn't DREAM of being without it or anything it contains!

So, since my last post of actual significance which was... hmmmm... let's see... August 16th! Agh! Shameful! Since then, a lot has transpired and I just haven't had the organization of thought to make it all presentable in a palatable manner. As a result... I am resorting to a list.

Disclaimer:
Due to the fact of linear thinking and a chaotic mind being mutually exclusive, this list is most certainly NOT in chronological order:

• On August 21st, Princess gave birth to our newest heifer: Rosalina. She's ADORABLE and is a constant source of smiles and general amusement. (No. I don't have a picture yet. BAD cow mom! I'll post one when I can get her to hold still long enough to snap a shot.) This brings our herd back up to four ladies. If Sparky doesn't throw a bull calf in February when she's due, we may have to resort to buying our beef. Yes, I know it's possible to "freeze" females... I just can't do it. I'm weird. I know. No shock there.

• We are now down to four cats. On October 24, we had to put down our oldest kitty, Houdini, aka: "Old Pet." It was difficult, but better for everyone in the long run. He was 15.

No, I won't be changing the name of the blog to Fabulous Four Cat Ranch. Lucky Seven it will remain because... well... I'm confused enough and it rolls off the tongue so nicely.

• I'm now buying our coffee beans green and (thanks to the tutelage of Lisa B.!) roasting them myself. It's fun, economical and STUPIDLY easy! I may have to do a tutorial post. If you only knew... You'd kick yourself. James has even gotten into helping out with the roasting from time to time. Purely due to his innate brilliance and good judgment he has become quite the roast master himself with virtually no help from me.

• Also, thanks to Lisa B., I am learning to make my own soap! It's so cool. She has these brilliant formulas she has devised herself and has kindly taught me how to prepare them. Chemistry is so cool! Don't be expecting a tutorial on soap making though as this is top secret, proprietary stuff and if I tell you how to do it, she'll have to kill me. If you would like to experience the loveliness and quality of Lisa's hand made soaps you can purchase them at her Etsy shop. Go there now! Christmas is coming, people!!

• Other ongoing projects: making my own pot cheese and Kombuch Tea. Both YUMMY and fun... though the whole Kombucha culture/mushroom/SCOBY thing vexes James. Yea, it's a little creepy looking while it's brewing, but it's SO GOOD and cheap to make as opposed to buying it. Example: At Whole Foods you can buy what I think is about a 12 oz bottle for around $2. I can make two gallons of the stuff for HALF THAT! Uh huh. That's what I'm sayin'.

• Since October 6th we have been making dinner for twelve every Monday and will continue to until at least the end of the year. Due to completely unfathomable and overwhelming circumstances, our Pastors' family has blossomed from four to eight... six of whom are teenagers. That's a pretty expensive endeavor on ministers' incomes, ya gotta admit. So, when the opportunity presented itself for us to contribute in the form of a dinner once a week, we jumped on it. Really, it's fun for us and such a blessing to get to do something so helpful for people who do so much for us. They are SO appreciative it makes us want to do even more. If only we could.

• We had yet another epic battle with the Tar Weed this year. Yuck! There is no magic bullet for this menace of Biblical proportions. It feels SO GOOD when we can finally mow it down in the Fall.

If anyone has advice for how to safely wipe this stuff out for good, please SPEAK UP!








• Anna got her Red Belt in Tae Kwon Do! So, yes, that does mean I travel with my own personal body guard. Don't let the sweet smile and angelic demeanor fool you...

If you're a board, she's lethal.

Lumber trembles at the sound of her name.

She has never missed a board break.

Her kihaps are a thing of fierce beauty. The stuff of legend around the dojo.

I'm glad she's on MY side!

Go, A-Bomb!!


• James had fun painting my hair for Halloween. We even thought briefly about doing something similar the next time I got my hair colored for real but wisely reasoned that much more than a week past October 31st it would cease to look cool and fun. Rather, I would take on the appearance of a soccer mom trying to pass as a rock star. Not pretty.

I stuck with the tried and true color combo and will keep my rock star fantasy safely confined to the shower.


• Under the heading of "Sometimes 'too good to be true' Really ISN'T" or: "God is totally mind-blowingly generous!" we found ourselves the fortunate recipients of a FREE SPA!!

Yes, you read correctly.

F-R-E-E

S-P-A

To make a VERY long story short... Our church owns a house that had a spa behind it that had to be removed or the insurance company wouldn't cover them.

In the weekly email mail bulletin, buried in the middle was a message that basically said, "if you want it, come get it and it's gotta be gone before the first week of November is up."

Well, as you can well imagine, we were all over that one like syrup on a pancake. We were the first to respond, thanks to the fact that I'm in front of my computer most of the day, and gave the spa a happy new home.

After investing in professional moving services (can you say 700 lbs!) and a small fortune in electrical wiring, breaker and a replaced power relay, it's up and running! Of course we had to shell out some cash to get it set up and working, but we would've had to do that even if we bought a brand new one so we're ecstatic... as are all of our parents' aching backs... :)

Gratitude? We're SOAKING IN IT!!


Well, folks, you are now officially up-to-speed on the dizzying swirl of excitement that is my blissful little life. :) Hope you're all well and happy out there in the blogosphere!

Cheers, Y'all!

So much to say, so little time.

I have tons to write about, even one post half completed and abandoned due to too many things to bake and clean and harvest and can and step on and off of and roast and photograph and eat and now the girls are about to walk through the door in need of a snack and some face time and there goes another day of blogging because I try really hard to ignore this infernal machine once those sweet souls get home but there's just so much to report and I hope it's soon or my head just might explode from all the words building up inside my cranium in that other form of information overload!

{{gasp!!}}

Help me.

Happy Wednesday, Y'all!

The Accidental Afficianado: The Sequel

Alternate Title: Cat Litter Post...

wait for it...

Number TWO!

Sorry for the toilet humor. It can, at times, be somewhat unavoidable.


So. When last we checked in on the cat litter saga, I had relented and turned to the of-questionable-safety, but preferred-by-one-cat-out-of-seven option of clay in one box. The rest were filled with Feline Pine.

Well, guess what? Feline Pine got stupidly expensive for a lumber industry by-product, was still rejected by at least one cat and my success was taking a very sharp dive into... nah...

In addition to six young and healthy cats*, we also have a very old, VERY particular fellow whose cat box record is, shall we say, not spotless. For years I have blamed his inconsistency... and incontinence... on urinary tract infections. There is some accuracy to my hypothesis, but I'll get back to that in a minute.

So, our quest for the perfect cat litter was resumed, much to our dismay, in conjunction with our pursuit of a superior accident-clean-up product. We found "Anti-Icky Poo" (Yes, that is its real name. Don't blame me. I know it's stupid) and a silica-based cat litter that I now can't even find online anymore to show you.

Both products work great. Both are so maniacally overpriced that it would be cheaper to fill your cat box with actual gold nuggets.

The Anti-Icky Poo is totally worth it, though it can only work so well for so long. When the poor Old Guy is saturating the bathroom carpet before you realize what has happened... the product's efficacy is bound to suffer.

In an attempt to help the Old Guy not fall prey to the "He's FIFTEEN YEARS OLD and stinking up the bathroom! How long do you expect me to let him live?!" argument, I took him to the regular vet... three times... for UTI treatment (which they confirmed) without ANY results. I finally turned to a naturopathic vet who immediately informed me that dry food was possibly the worst thing I could feed him next to, oh, I don't know... asbestos! "It's dehydrating him by sucking up what little moisture he's getting from drinking... which, by the way... cats in the wild DON'T DO! They get all their 'water' from their prey."

What the...?

His issues had many layers...

First: He was so dehydrated that "going" was painful and had very bad associations with The Box. Not that going anywhere else was more fun, but it sure didn't make him want to squat in a pile of wood shavings... or in a bed of silica pellets either, for that matter.

Okay. I'm REALLY digressing here.

Sorry.

The silica litter worked great, but with seven cats, it doesn't last the two months touted on the bag. A couple of weeks, MAYBE so that means going through a LOT of fifteen-dollars-a-five-pound-bag litter.

Much to my very temporary glee, I found big, square buckets of something very similar at the feed store for a fraction of the price! There is a reason... the bargain product is what's left after they punch out all those nice, smooth little pellets... and it's sharp as freakin' GLASS... not kitty-pad friendly! Nor is it very nice to bare feet that stumble across the random shard in the carpet.

The packaging was also EXTREMELY WASTEFUL.

I went back to the slightly-more-economical-than-what-I-found-online version... "Litter Pearls." It does work really great. Most of our cats were fine with it... but not all.

Fabulous.

On yet another trek to the feed store I was met with a new and intriguing option in the cat litter aisle... a NEW, healthier and fantastical variety of clay litter! Can it be?

For five bucks, I can afford for it to tank.

I put it in the Old Guy's personal potty and, what do you know... HE ACTUALLY USES IT! He hated all the other litters AND was having health issues that weren't helping matters.

What happened next?

ALL THE CATS were using HIS box. They completely rejected the fancy stuff once they had access to this much better clay product.

"Wundercat," as it is so adorably named, is a combination of clays. It doesn't produce much dust at all and it REALLY does NOT STINK!


I switched the two boxes in the house to Wundercat and left the two boxes in the garage with the Litter Pearls. No one has stepped foot in the garage boxes since the Wundercat appeared. Interesting, 'eh?

The critics have spoken!

So, to finish my story about the Old Guy... He now gets mostly very high quality canned food and sometimes I make or buy raw food. He has access to the occasional bit of kibble and still prefers to drink running water from my bathroom sink. The change in his diet has made a new cat out of him. For literally years he has barely emerged from our bedroom (hence, he had his own box in our master bathroom to encourage its use.) He almost never went outside. He regularly vomited and, the older he got, often had such dry stools... well ... we'll leave it at that, shall we?

As I type, he is sitting in the other office chair with Grace. He rarely vomits except to do "maintenance" and he recently even spent an entire night outside by choice. That hasn't happened in at least ten years! He is much healthier and happier thanks to the naturopath's brilliant information. What's more... he is now so energetic that I have been able to successfully move the cat box out of our bathroom and into the laundry room with the other one. That, folks pretty much constitutes a bone fide miracle!



*As for the SEVEN in Lucky Seven Cat Ranch... I'm afraid we are now down to a Fortunate Five. Boo, our super-friendly 20-poounder, went missing a couple of months ago followed shortly by little Midna. Losing two cats in the space of a month for us is unheard of. Cats are wandersome creatures, though. I hope they mosey home from their walkabout some day.

My sister-in-law's cat returned after five months, so here's hopin'.
























If they are gone for good, though, I hope it is somewhere plentiful in fat, juicy mice and "crunchable birdses."

... And miles and miles of fresh, clean, scratchable sand, of course.



That, Dear Readers (Marty!), concludes the "highly-informative post" I promised you back in June! ;)


I hope you are all enjoying this gloriously much cooler Monday!

My new favorite B&B!

Cozy!

Romantic!

Amazingly affordable!

Best of all...


...it is my very own bedroom!


There's much more updating to be done in the rest of the house, but I really wanted to pay proper tribute to James' and my Divine love affair by starting with our boudoir.

I surprised him with all the accessories, but we painted the room as a family weekend project and got it all done in a day! Go team!




Before: Like, yuck, man.



During: For your next home improvement project, I highly recommend child labor! They have a ball, work for potato chips and soda, and have no idea your totally exploiting them! Now that's what I call a "win/win!"



Ahhhhh... it's just so nice to have an actual grown-up's bedroom and not a storage room with a bed in it.

These little beads dangling off the burgundy *velvet* valance are so sweet,
they just make me tingly all over...

So TRUE!! The picture really doesn't do it justice. Rats.

I absolutely adore walking into our bedroom to the aroma of freshly cut roses and herbs! So rejuvenating and inspiring, I think.

For a couple hundred dollars and a little effort, I'm so pleased with the way it turned out. No, it'll never make it into Portland Spaces Magazine, but I could afford it and it just feels so much better. I absolutely love the way this room looks at night... especially from the outside.

I once walked up the path that runs in front of our house and peeked in the window to see this inviting nest aglow in soft candle light. I thought to myself, "Wow, that looks like a really lovely place to stay... I would love to spend the night here with my Honey... Hey! I can and will every single night of my life. Sweet!"

Slowly but surely, I'm living my dream. I am so blessed!

Folks, it's like the tag line on this blog says... "There is no place *but* home."

Make yours beautiful and inviting to you.


Up next: Operation Master Bath!!

Sharing with the locals

The girls and I got a beautiful surprise this morning when a fawn hopped the fence and began voraciously chowing down on our radishes!



Normally, this is not the sort of behavior I would encourage in the local wildlife, but she was so lovely and bold... looking us straight in the eye as we ogled her from my office window... I couldn't bring myself to shoo her off.

Our radishes far outnumber our opportunities to interact so closely with one of my favorites of all God's creatures. Deer also seem to mark special times in our family.

The last time I saw a deer on our property was my most recent birthday.

The previous sighting in our yard was four years ago on the morning of Anna's sixth birthday when a family of THREE, including a two-point buck (!), waltzed across our grass to our muffled squeals of approval and delight.

Something very cool just may happen today... and if all that turns out to be is the exceedingly rare glimpse of a fawn in our very own garden... that's more than enough for me!

Happy Tuesday, Deer Readers! :)

Orange water and Triskaphobia

We got our water back one week ago... however, it still runs orange. It's the rusty minerals in that good ol' Dundee Appellation soil that make the Pinot Noir so gosh darned good, don' cha know!

I'm still twitchy about washing anything white lest I end up with a lovely array of quasi-tie-died garments in varying shades of burnt umber.


Amid all the water woes came the dishwasher debacle. Dishes in the front half of the machine retain a revolting residue of co-mingled food particles and oily remnants.... mmmm... YUMMY!

The issue was, of course not, as we had hoped, the replacement of the twirly thingy that shoots water around in the top of the machine which we found resting conspicuously out of place on the heating element... that leaves the motor as the culprit.

Interpretation: motors are so spendy, we may as well buy a whole new dishwasher.


As unexpected breakdowns of major appliances/utilities/vehicles tend to arrive in packs of three... I am rapidly developing a paranoia of unusual noises, smells and/or vibrations from any and all major moving and/or vitally important machines in my service.

So, now that you have the most recent update from L7CR, I am off to back up the Macs and stare suspiciously at my truck.

I'm craving doing laundry...???

Photo courtesy of Flickr... though this could be a scene at my house right now.

That is what happens when one is without a reliable water source for three+ days.

We lost water on Sunday morning and have yet to get it back in earnest. We got a new water pump installed and had a day of about half normal pressure. The water pump was not the source of the problem. Thankfully while we had at least a dribble, my brilliant husband thought to fill one of our bath tubs to ensure water for toilet flushing(!) and minimal hand washing. However, as the issue required more investigation and repair we currently have no running water at all.

It is very interesting the things one is forced to consider upon deprivation of precious H20.

For example:

• What am I touching? I can't just wash my hands "willy nilly."

• What do I feed people? The fewer utensils, plates and clean-up the better.

• How much clean underwear do we all have... or lack?

• How does one fill two 60 gallon water troughs with no running water?

• Ever contemplated watering a 40 x 20 garden full of tender, tiny sprouts with a watering can and swimming pool water?

• How does one get ready for work in a dignified office setting when you can't shower? This I can tell you involves a bucket, an empty bathtub and very cold and speedy hygienic practices... Poor James!


These are just a few of the thoughts that have rattled across my brain pan in the past 36 hours.

How do I feel right now?

Thirsty. We have plenty of bottled water, but somehow knowing there's not water in the faucet makes me feel parched.

Dirty. I am very deliberately not exerting enough energy to get all "dewy" as I already feel like every molecule of dust floating maliciously in the air is preternaturally attracted to my skin and fully aware of my inability to bathe conveniently.

But mostly it's a lot like I'm camping in a *really* nice motor home in one of those spaces without the water and sewer hookups... and the bathroom/shower hut is a half mile hike away on the other side of the camp ground.

I hear there is a plumber working up the hill at my in-laws' house connecting by-passing pipes as we speak. The broken pipe, it seems, lurks beneath a concrete slab so re-routing the flow of the life-sustaining liquid is far more practical, and preferable, to ripping up a ton of driveway to fix the leak directly.

God bless the family members willing to dig for hours to expose the pipes and a plumber/friend willing to massage his schedule to make our problem a priority. We would be in dire straights... and stinky for much, MUCH longer... without their generous help!

Whenever we lose water or power I am always forced to think of those living in countries where utilities are intermittent at best or even non-existent. I don't think I take the luxury and privilege of reliable infrastructure for granted until I spend even an afternoon without... and then I feel very guilty for not appreciating them much more than I actually do.

In this particular shortage, I have noticed myself very aware and possessive of half-consumed glasses and bottles of water I spot laying around the house. Suddenly, I see them as opportunities to wash my hands or rinse off a spoon. Maybe give a plant a drink. I am afraid free water has made us more wasteful in its abundance.

I have never really thought, *really* thought about what a luxury it is just to have the opportunity to have a clean body and clothes. Right now, after a shower, all I want is to run my dishwasher and do about six loads of laundry. I can't imagine living permanently in conditions where you can't even count on a safe glass of water to drink, let alone access to enough to wash anything.

It makes it difficult to feel too sorry for myself when I think of our dilemma on a global scale. I mean, if I got desperate for some form cleanliness I could go for a swim in my inlaws' pool. Not so for all those dust-encrusted African kids we see on the big screen TV broadcast in high-def digital cable...

Somehow, when I think about it in those terms I don't feel nearly so inconvenienced and a whole lot more grateful that my "plight" will last a total of a few days and gave me an opportunity to begin to really appreciate how fortunate we are to live where and when we do.

It's the *little things* Y'all... Seriously.

Cows fly

Two weeks ago I put an ad in the local paper and didn't get a single call so I really didn't have too great a hope of generating any interest in Bossy and Daisy on Craig's List, but I thought, "What the hell. It's free, right?"

I got the first hit at 9:45 this morning.

By 10:30 they were sold.

Wow!

The really cool thing about the buyer... He wants them for dairy stock!

That makes me very happy.

So long, Bossy and Daisy. I'll miss you terribly, but I'm oh, so glad you're going to what sounds like a very green pasture.

Pssssst... wanna buy a cow?

Or, more accurately, a cow and her darling calf.



Yes, folks. It causes me great pain to say this, but Bossy and Daisy must go.

We have maxed out our grazing capacity and need to move a couple of my girls on to other pastures. I originally wanted to keep Daisy and let Sparky go, but in a demonstration of my TRUE LOVE for this little beauty, I am choosing what is best for her over my own selfish desires. *sniff* *sniff*

It will be much less traumatic for them... well... and me too, really, I suppose... if we sell the pair together so...

Who wants to start their own herd?!

Common folks! I know there's a frustrated dairy farmer out there among you!

Seriously! The calf is ready to ween. You could have your very own fresh milk twice a day... from your own backyard!

Here's the sitch:

Bossy is 3 years old, Herford, Holstein and Angus. She's a great mom.

Daisy is 3 months old, all of the above breeds plus black Semental.

We'll let the pair go for $985.

Any takers?

Common, Angelina! Now's your chance to commune with your favorite bovine on a daily basis! Just think of the endless supply of prime fertilizer!

Okay. Sales pitch over.

Operators are standing by...

A study in green

Welcome! Welcome! O tender, sweet and crunchy Spring!

O, the succulent, green shoots and pale, infant blossoms so laden with the promise of luscious Summer fruit!

Even my heart is salivating.

Rx for thought...

I just gave our very old cat his antibiotic liquid and was intrigued by the fact that it is BANANA flavored... and not just banana... really BAD banana.*

For a cat.

Is it just me or does it seem for more logical that medicine intended for a feline should be flavored like, oh I don't know, field mouse or maybe even tuna fish?

Banana.

Who's idea was that?


*The reason I know what it tastes like is because I had to mix it up from powder and in breathing in a little of the powder, I got a hit of the very strong and disgusting flavor.

What the Hail!

Torrential Spring hail storm + trampoline = crazy frigid fun!

The deluge was accompanied by booming thunder and wicked-close lightening that had us all stupefied for about thirty minutes.

Take one very impressive display by the Big Guy, add some Chinese takeout and you've got a great Spring Break capper.

Have a great week getting back into "The Routine," Y'all!

Another One Biteth the Dutht

Grathe would like me to inform you all that she lotht her thecond front tooth.

She'th very proud of herthelf.

Thankth a lot and have a thuper Thunday!

Thianara, Y'all!

It doesn't take much

Around here, snow is so infrequent and short-lived we swing into high gear at the first hint of a flake. We'll be lucky if we get a half inch, down here in the balmy lower reaches of Chehalem Valley, but we'll enjoy it like there's a foot of the stuff.


Despite the less-than-profuse amounts of fluffy precipitation, it is still cold enough that water troughs freeze over and the cows are disinclined to graze on the frigid pasture grass.

This December scene...


... is the reason...

... for this stifling, dusty, hot one back in August.

The cats also have a lot of fun figuring out all these crazy white feathers that vanish as soon as they hit one's wet nose... little bits of disappearing cold, white bird?

I am forced to wonder if Boo thinks his chances of actually catching something have skyrocketed due to this brief instance of environment for which he is, at last, suitably camouflaged. Ordinarily, his 20+ pounds of glowing whiteness makes him so conspicuous as to preclude any chance of sneaking up on anything with even the most feeble sense of sight. Were it not for the cat food dispenser, and my constant refilling of it, he would surely starve.

As I'm finishing this post, the snow has been replaced by fat, chunky rain and blustering wind. We're battening down the hatches and drawing precautionary water reserves in anticipation of the impending storm.

I'm soooo happy I had the opportunity yesterday to get out to the store... and to my raw milk place... and, most importantly, THE COFFEE ROASTER!

Weekend housebound caffeine withdrawal...? ::shudder::

Instead, we'll be enjoying the final Harry Potter book by a blazing fire with no need of anything from the outside world beyond weather reports to know how long our blissful seclusion will last.

Except for my imminent treks out to feed my pasture prima donnas, who will undoubtedly find sideways rain as undesirable dining conditions as gently falling snow, the rest of the weekend should prove rich in much-needed, decompressive coziness.

I hope yours is equally rejuvenating.

Peace, Y'all!

What I've Learned From Our Cows...

... so far.

I get the impression they really enjoy "teaching me a lesson" whenever they get the chance.


#1. Over-Grazing is BAD: And I don’t just mean stuffing yourself on appetizers to the point of excruciating pain. It is what happens when good people are forced to do bad things with cows… like having too many of them in too small of a pasture for just long enough that they totally mow down every edible blade of grass that competes with the weeds that aren’t. Among other infestations, it can lead to… and don’t even get me started on... the scourge that IS, Tar Weed.

#2 Tailgating can kill you: Never walk behind a cow or calf closer than about eight feet. One sharp noise or rude comment about their weight and you’ll be waking up, flat on your back in cow poo wondering how to spell “Fractured Sternum.”

#3. Avoid butt-heads: A full-grown cow’s head weighs, I’m guessing, about 60 pounds all by itself. When attached to an irritated bovine, in addition to housing all that pent-up angst and resentment for being treated like some kind of common farm animal, it can also, when swung properly, act as a very effective human catapult capable of slinging the average 150-pound individual roughly six to eight feet. I have personal experience to back up this assertion, in case you’re skeptical about my authority on the subject.

#4. Beware of sticky situations: Cow poo is the lesser-known forerunner of Velcro®. Just try to get it off your boots.

#5. Watch your step: No matter how much room they have. No matter how many times I muck out the barn to keep it a pleasant, healthy place for them to sleep and eat. Every… single… day… somebody leaves a “pie” RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DOOR WAY. I have come to believe this is their idea of a joke. ha. ha. ha. See lesson #4.

#6. Don't let yourself be intimidated: Staring down 600 pound animals on a daily basis takes a certain amount of panache... or at least it does when you're a chick who has only been living closely with cows for about three years. Any large animal vet can tell you that cows are prey animals and they know it. All you have to do is act like you're bigger than them, they believe it and that leaves you pretty much in control.

Right.

I use a combination of a firm tone of voice, sharp movements and bribery to get them to make me think they're submitting to my will. I don't even feel the need to carry a baseball bat when I get anywhere near them anymore so I think I've made brilliant progress... I am, however, not above leaping to relative safety over a stall gate with the grace and agility of a drunken hippo should my projection of confidence and superiority prove unconvincing.

Truth is, I love the big hairy dears. I think they can sense that and choose to let me feel like I'm in charge... at least as long as I keep making with the cow candy and sweet talk...


That's all the barnyard wisdom I have to impart for now.

Until Bossy, Princess and the Girls school me further... Ciao, Yall!

What's Next, Cat Juggling?!

Wondrous Gift From Above or Evil Implement of Kitty Terror?

The nights have gotten quite nippy of late here on the Ranch, so one or more of the four members of the outside-at-night contingent have started weaseling their way into sleeping inside the house.

Sometimes it's blatant. More often, it is a covert operation involving diversion and subterfuge.

They all usually prefer to roam the shadow realm when night falls, finding refuge in the hay bales in the barn when the temps take a dip. But if the weather takes a turn for the very wet or extra chilly, the finagling begins.

Two of the four are very well behaved and can be trusted indoors. The other two are menaces who, after having successfully achieved bedtime invisibility, will make their presence and strong desires known somewhere between 4:00 and 6:00 AM in a most raucous and boisterous display that, should I choose to turn a deaf ear and continue soaking my pillow with drool while pursuing that ever-illusive French truffle the size of an ottoman, will give way to retaliatory vandalism.

We have recently discovered however, that there is, in fact, such thing as Kitty Karma.

Not long ago, our dearly beloved and faithful, fairly low-tech coffee maker went kaput. It was simple featuring only a thermal carafe and timing capabilities, but made great coffee. Upon its demise, my folks generously gifted us a new, state-of-the-art, fancy schmancy model that had been languishing unopened in their garage. It not only brews your coffee and holds it at the temperature of your particular preference, it even grinds your fresh, whole beans and dumps the fragrant grounds right into the filter for you at the precise moment and grind consistency to achieve the most technologically perfect cup o' joe ever devised by a team of overpaid engineers.*


So, there I am, post-alarm, cozily drowsing in eager anticipation of the joyful sound of our new java droid awakening to begin its life of servitude when it happens...

The timer hits 6:55, the grinder whirs and clatters to life and, at that exact split second... the unmistakable sound of 16, startled and terror-filled paws frantically scratching their heated exit from the still-dark kitchen, then thundering down the hallway toward our bedrooms and presumed sanctuary.

In stead of comfort and consolation, they found me, standing there in my jammies, laughing at them in unexpected, payback bliss!

Apparently the sneaky ones had somehow *overslept* and got a taste of what it's like to be startled awake by a harsh and unexpected racket...

"HA!" I say. Double "HA!"

Though I did feel kinda bad for the good, polite, quiet kitties who let me sleep, I savored that first cup from the shee-shee machine with great relish and just a bit of sick satisfaction.

"The new coffee maker is so fast, why don't you set the timer for when you're already up and the lights are on so it doesn't come as such a shock to them when it starts up?" my kind-hearted husband asked.

"What? And deny myself all that sadistic pleasure? Are you nuts?"

Poor kitties. Poor, poor traumatized little kitties...

::snicker::

Now, where did I leave the vacuum...




* Don't get me wrong, it's really a nice machine, but it cracks me up how this thing is supposed to make "making coffee" so much more convenient. Now, instead of: grind coffee the night before; place in filter; pour water into reservoir; activate timer; upon finishing coffee toss used filter... I get to: place beans in grinder the night before, pour water into reservoir; activate timer; upon finishing coffee dismantle the entire machine, clean five separate pieces and dry thoroughly before reassembling... so I can have my coffee ground for me and drink it five minutes sooner! I have to laugh at myself that I love it so much.

"Jiffy Pop," Anyone?

For some reason, these little guys just make me happy.

I don't know why I've suddenly become obsessed with the mushrooms growing in my in-laws' yard. Every time I go out to do my cow chores these days, it seems I can't help but snap a shot of friendly-looking fungus.

I know. It's silly.

Surprised?

Me neither.

The last Rio Samba

This is one of my all-time favorite rose varieties. In warm weather, this buttery yellow gives way to intense, deep oranges and pinks. Its aroma is reminiscent of really good citrus fruit punch.

Just looking at it makes me pine for next June.


Okay, gotta get back to my *job* now.

Oh, and, the cows say "hi."

Ciao, now, brown cow!