Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?

It's a sorry state of affairs when it is more cost effective to herd with a couple of diesel trucks than it is with horses. 

The "cowboys" shook a bag of creep, threw it in the back of the truck, and drove off.

And the cows just followed along.

Gives new meaning to the term "drover."

'Course bovines aren't known for having brains. 

The guy bringing in the stragglers (you can see him in the background of the first picture) said it was easier to round them up on horseback.

But i guess there just ain't no arguin' with The Man.

Or the Accountant.

Manger Heads

 

These are the manger keyholes that Splendora squeezed herself through the day she discovered cookies.

Can you imagine that?

Of course, i might just squeeze myself through one of those to get to a handful of cookies, too!

Okay, maybe not for cookies, but CERTAINLY for one of Breezy's cheesecakes.

 I love talking to the girlies when they have their heads in the manger.

One of my favorite farm things is watching them munch hay from the diary side.

You can love on them and talk to them, pull their ears and give them treats, but they can't step on your toes.

Or untie your shoes.

Or your shorts.

Chickory thinks it is cute to pull dangley strings.

Be sure to wear a belt if you walk into the doe yard.

Velcro tennies are a good idea as well.

She hasn't figured out Velcro, yet.

I love the manger.

It was custom built by Jed, just for me.

It holds an entire square bale of hay.

Lots of mangers only hold a partial bale, or a few flakes.

This means you get hay stickies and nasties all over you when you fill it.

Then you have to take a shower or you itch all day.

BUT....when you are the proud owner of a Custom Built Manger, you can usually brush off the stickies and nasties.  Or most of them, anyway.

(A couple of years ago i wore my favorite cool and comfy shirt to bring in the hay from the field after baling. A year later i was still picking tiny pokies out of the weave of the fabric, and it was a shirt that went through the wash every week.  Hay is some insidious stuff, y'all.) 

The only problem with the manger is that the chickens like to sit eggs in there.

They find it much preferable to the zillion dollar nesting boxes in the specially constructed Pullet Palace.

Whatever.

Speaking of chickens, Earl is fine, thanks for asking.

Am about to decide she thinks she is a dog. 

She believes she should come in the house like Jewels and Maka.

She insists on being fed with the Boyz.

She is hanging out at the back door like the freeloaders.

She follows me around the homestead and chatters while i do chores.

And when i drove up to house yesterday, she was a part of the melee that greeted me at the car door.

It has gotten to where i go out the front door and walk around the house, just to avoid the stupid chicken.

My life is ruled by animals.

The Most Beautiful Goat In The World

Words escape me.

Every time i see this picture i laugh.

Can't even think of a caption to do it justice.

She just doesn't know when to quit. 

And the sad part about it is, for all her...shall we say, physiological issues...she has the best topline in the barnyard.

Sigh.

Family Photos

Ya know how hard it is to get a good group shot of your kids? 

Well, it is even harder when they are goats.

I was hoping for One Big Happy Family shots, so i brought out the big guns....Fig Newtons.
Best i could get was groupings.
First, may i present our Senior Does:

Becky, Chickory, Dosidoe, and...um...Cherry

Although Cherry B. qualifies for "Senior Doe" according to age, i hesitate to include her in the Sr. Doe picture.   Heck, i hesitate to call her a "doe" at all.   {Don't tell Jethro, okay?  That can be our little secret.  We all know why she is here, and why she ain't goin' anywhere.}

And then we have the Junior Does...

Maud, Paris and Splendora


Note the wallflower in the background...Maud STILL hasn't figured out the cookie thing, but obviously Paris and Splendora have.

I took about a zillion shots just to get these two marginal pictures.

A lot of the problem was that the girls insisted on mugging for the camera.

I just missed the one where Paris was holding up one hoof and doing the "horns" thing behind Dosidoe's head.

They are all such goats.

Gone Too Far

Ok, this whole Earl thing is getting out of control. 

Earl the Pearl is living under the back porch.  This would put her in close proximity to the back door.  Which provides entree to the house.  Which she also considers her personal space.

She skinnies in the house every chance she gets, and goes directly to Jewels' water dish for a drink.  This is strictly a territorial move, as she has her very own water bowl right next to the porch.  Earl is just doing this to tick off Jewels.  And it is working.  Thank goodness chickens don't pee...there could be a REAL war going on in my house!!!!

Earl has also become rather demanding about meals.  All the other chickens take what you give them when you show up with it.  Not Earl.  She insists on dining with the dogs.  I feed on the back porch in the evening, and the stupid chicken was running around between the dog legs pitching a fit, so i have had to start feeding her at that time, as well, just to save her life.  We don't have serious food aggression issues with the dogs, but George does tend to talk trash.  And i have very strict rules around here about talking with your mouth full. 

And i have not even mentioned the incessant chattering and knocking at the back door.

But yesterday, this whole "house chicken" thing crossed a line.

I was getting in the car...a fluid movement--not sitting there with the door open while i looked for my keys or anything, just getting in the car...look down, and there is Earl, between my feet.

This is so very wrong.

And i just won't stand for it.

Gobble Gobble

In honor of the Feast of Thankfulness, i would like to dedicate the following to Susan Dear Susan to commemorate her feat of singlehandedly dispatching with a 38lb Tom....while the grandbaby slept!

http://images.businessweek.com/ss/05/11/egreetings/source/2.htm

After watching the turkey, continue to the next one, which is dedicated to The Baas, number four is dedicated to ALA, and the last one, well, that one...lets just say it is a good thing the udders around here don't jiggle like that.

Have a restful and delicious day of family and thanksgiving for our great good blessings.

If You Give A Dog A Cookie....

...It's gonna want a glass of milk.

Not really.

They are gonna want another cookie.

I have so very much in common with dogs.

On the front most corner of our property is the tall box with all the wires that the phone company uses to keep all the phones up and down this road in working order.  So if anyone around here is having phone trouble, the phone guy steps foot on our property.

And ya know, we got all these male dogs staking their claim to this turf, already.

This little yarn takes place before the Big Boyz arrived.  Back then, it was Ruby, Jake, Dulcie, Commando and Jewels.  Maka was with us, but this was back in the day when she was still slinking around in the bushes, watching.

There was a new house being built up the road (btw, "anonymous,"  i finally figured out who you are!!!  It was your house.  And thanks for the info on the belted galloways, hun, glad to know it, but i am gonna keep calling them fuzzy oreo cows--ya know i just love colorful vernacular! ;o} )  and we were getting several visits from the Phone Dude.

The Phone Dude for this area is not a fun guy.  More like a fungi.  A cranky guy.  And he lacks...oh....many things.  One of which is diplomacy.  Another is patience.  And....pardon me.  I am getting carried away.  Let's just say he is one of those people that is so unhappy and unpleasant that you just have to laugh at them.  But not to their faces.

After about the third time The Dude tries to get to the box, and all the dogs are doing their job, sounding the alarm, he comes up to the house and gives me whatfor.  Which i might have deserved, except that every time he showed up and the dogs went ballistic, we would go out there to call them off, and then stick around to make sure they didn't bother him.  We were trying to be responsible pet owners.  What may have happened when we were not home i cannot speak to.  But i can imagine, as his way of dealing with them was to throw his hands up in the air, yell at them, and try to run them down.  And you know what that means to a dog. 

Obviously this guy was a cat person.

So, i am thinking about the situation, trying to figure out how to maintain the peace, coz, ya know, i AM subversive by nature, but i really HATE ticking people off, and i really, REALLY hate getting reamed by unpleasant people.  And it occurs to me....the water meter is up in the same corner of the property, right next to the phone box.  The water meter reader comes once a month--i know this because we get evidence requiring response in the mail--and i didn't recall the dogs ever giving him a hard time. 

Hmmmmm.  

So i start watching for the meter reader. 

One day, i see him coming down the road, and assume an observation position.

The truck pulls up on the property, and out of nowhere, all the dogs come running toward him pell-mell. 

They all slam on the brakes and park in a semi circle around the meter. 

I mean, i am surprised they all didn't get headaches, they planted themselves so firmly.

You couldn't have found a better behaved, more alert formation at a Westminster Kennel Show.

The meter dude gets out of his truck...none of them moved.

He lifted the cover on the meter and did his meter reading thing...no one budged.

He put the cover back in place....and they got a little antsy, but remained seated.

And then, the guy reaches in his pocket and handed each one a biscuit.

The phone company has SOOOOOoooo much to learn from the water company.

Can You Say "Oxymoron?"

Huh.

REALLY???

These Boots Were Made For Walkin'

We have had a bit of rain lately...not a lot, but some.

For which we are MOST grateful, Father.  And we continue to ask for such moderate rain as to sustain life and the fruits of our labors, to Your honor and glory.

Looks like The Boyz found a mud hole, at any rate. 

Not a puddle, but better than cracked earth.

Skunkville

Got a regular visitor to the barn lately. 

Seems a skunk has been sight seeing 'round these parts at night.  Pretty sure he is the one that has dined on a couple of chickens, and given all of the dogs a spray at one time or another.  He is smart enough to spend most of his time in a section the big dogs can't get to.

Ellie was out doing barn chores, and came running in to let us know there was another sighting.

Jed and Jethro grabbed their weapons, and headed that way.

In a few minutes, they came back, sans skunk. {{thankfully}}

When queried about it, Jethro said, "Well, i see it this way.  What ever is behind the skunk is his, and whatever is in front of him he can have if he wants it."

Meet Earl and the PaddyMolly Chicks

Guess i may as well introduce y'all to Earl.  Looks like she is going to be playing a dominant role in our world. 

Earl thinks she is a house chicken.

Am starting to question this open door policy we have around here regarding the animals.

Susan Dear Susan has blown out her knee, and has been lightening her load.  In an effort to do our part, we took on some more of her banties, and the most recent batch of eggs to hatch.

In the banty mix was Earl.  Jethro named her.  We tried to talk him into at least calling her Earlene, but no dice.  Jethro and Earl have become fast friends.  The stupid chicken follows him around EVERYWHERE, including into the house.  Jealous Jewels is none too impressed.  This is the most socialized chicken i have ever seen, even more so than the beloved Angus. 

(What is it with us and the chicken names?  Angus and Earl are hens, Misty is a rooster.) 

Earl appears to be a natural talent, taking to the "Chicken Hat" trick like a duck to water.

And then, if that wasn't enough to give Jewels apoplexy, there are six chicks in the laundry room.  These are the only chicks from PaddyMolly and O'Malley. 

O'Malley will be headed this way as soon as someone can catch him, but PaddyMolly (the cutest, sweetest banty ever) met an untimely demise, so these are very special chicks. 

HMmmmmm....Tastes like chicken.

Junkyard Buck

Remember Sparkin' Sparta? 

Been through a spell of jumping and climbing over fences?

Couple of weeks ago we found him in the big pasture with the donkey standing over him.

Not sure what happened, coz i wasn't there, but figure either Sparta got caught on the barbed wire coming over the fence, or Sancho thought to taste the goat.

Either way, he was traumatized and his lovely pendulous ear got hacked up.

Quit jumping the fence, stayed real close to the hay manger.

I thought this was fine, small price to pay to teach the stinker to stay home where he belongs.

Rather tear up an ear than loose the whole goat to the predators in the south field.

And thank goodness he was hung up on that end, and not the other.

Sparkin' Sparta didn't learn his lesson, though.

Guess he got over the shell shock.

Back to hanging out at the girls gate.

Guys.

Whatta ya gonna do?

Will Dance For Cookies

Paris is officially a cookie monster. 

She will do just about anything for a cookie.

Splendora stepped on the Cookie Train this morning, and was so eager to have more that she squeezed half of her body through the keyholes in the manger (keeps their head in the manger while they are eating so they don't waste a bunch of hay) to get closer to the box.

Maud still hasn't figured it out.

Oddly, she is the smartest one of the bunch. 

Maybe she is just watching her figure.

Dosidoe

It would appear that Dosidoe wasn't too impressed with my last post.

She is thinking that perhaps i should moonlight with the DMV.

Sorry Dosidoe, you truly are an attractive girl.

Everyone has a bad picture taken now and then.

Dosidoe and eodisoD

Meet Dosidoe and her cousin from a distant planet, eodisoD.

Just kidding.

Can you tell i am getting a little braver with the computer?

Holes

I have a blond child.

Some days she is more blond than others.

This is forgiven most of the time because she is such a hard worker.
And she is cute.

Ellie takes on chores that the rest of us are loath to do.  Things like dealing with the chickens, untangling legs in a birth canal, or digging holes.

She was always the one to dispose of chicken carcasses, but Jed handled the big holes.  Until, several springs ago, we lost a beloved guardian dog. 

The Fair Lady Dulcinea, or Dulcie, as she was known (acquired about the same time as Donkey Xote and Sancho Panza--if we ever wind up with a horse it will be named Rozinante,)  went out with her boots on, doing her job of defending the homestead.  We are still not sure whether Dulcie tangled with the coyotes or the feral hogs, but at any rate, took a gash to the juggler and barely managed to make it back home.  It was a sore loss, as she was a good guardian, and a great personality.  She used to scare people that didn't know her, as her greeting was to bare her teeth...not in a menacing way, but in a doggy smile.  But if you hadn't seen it before, it could be rather intimidating.  Mostly because she was not a small dog.

Dulcie was half lab and half Great Pyrenees, therefore, she required a rather large hole.  The morning she passed was cold and wet.  A light drizzle added to the oppression of the task at hand.  Ellie, Jethro and i got our shovels, loaded Dulcie on the trolley, and picked out her spot in the pasture.  I don't remember how long we all dug together, but i remember being chilled and wet, and that my back hurt.  Jethro was still a fairly little guy, and had used all his energy.  I suggested we take a break and warm up, then dig some more in a bit.  Ellie told us to go in, that she wanted to finish the hole herself. 

And she did.

Jethro and i went back out to help lay Dulcie to rest, said our prayers, and then were dismissed, so Ellie could replace the dirt.

As i stood at the window watching my daughter deal with one of the hardest things about this life in her own way, i was reminded of a couple of things. 

When Ellie was about three or so, she started asking questions about my mother, and wanted to see her grave.  We went to the cemetery, and i sat there quietly while Ellie wandered around.  After a bit, she put her hand on my mother's heart shaped headstone, looked me in the eye, and with all the maturity of any child i have ever seen, said to me, "Your momma's heart is here, but she is in heaven.  Sometimes it just has to be that way."

A couple of years later, when visiting Paul Adeen's, she found a dead fish in his koi pond, and insisted on the two of them burying the fish together, under a cross in his garden.  Paul came back in the house, and we looked out a few minutes later to see the child dropping rose petals on the grave.  Yes, we both got all choked up.  I get all choked up just thinking about it.

Death of something or someone beloved is one of the hardest things we have to face on this planet.  I am amazed, and grateful, for my daughter's reverence for life, and the ability she has to cope with death.

To this day, most of the holes that are dug here, are dug by Ellie May, by her choice. 

Which brings us back to the blond moment...
Ellie May and i were just discussing goatie issues, and she said something about Andy, our dear departed buck.  As my brain is processing the fact that Ellie was gone for a large part of the decline and demise of Excellent Endeavor, she got a rather sheepish look. 

Apologetically, she said, "I'm sorry.  If i didn't bury him, i figure i must have misplaced him."

Fuzzy Cows

I am not a huge fan of cows. 

Unless of course they are on a plate in front of me with a bit of potato and a nice little tossed something.

Then i simply adore them.

But i keep passing these guys, and i must admit that i am somewhat smitten. 

I have no idea what kind of cows they are, but they are woolly and unusual. 

I am sure they must be insanely expensive. 

Not that i was gonna put them on my wish list, mind you. 

They are, after all, COWS. 

But they are kinda cute....don'tcha think?

Long ago and far away, in another life, i was friends with a cattle person that kept trying to teach me the difference between a "good" cow and a "bad" cow. 

I, being me, tried to eek a little fun out of the process by making things difficult.

After listening to instruction, tips and pointers ad nauseum, and learning more about the loin, brisket, topline, the triangulation of the three points of blah blah blah blah than i really cared to know at the time, i was finally quizzed on the dissertation and asked to make distinctions between cows.

I said that the only common denominator i could see was that bad cows had fuzzy ears.

This guy hung his head and just shook it.   

I was reminded of that friend today when i was taking pictures of the fuzzy oreo cows.

This old gal sauntered up to see what i was up to.

I would say that she has about the fuzziest cow ears i have ever seen.

Surely that doesn't make her a BAD cow.

Unless of course she is prone to playing pranks or doesn't show up for supper or something.

I mean, she LOOKS like she has tasty ribs, right?

The Soup Sisters and Their Cousin the Hotty

I have been remiss. 

For this, i humbly apologize.

I have just come to realize that i have failed to share the best chicken soup recipe in the world. 

The children love this stuff, can make it themselves, and will eat it all year round...even when it is a hundred degrees outside!!

I usually set up a little assembly line and make the mix up by the dozen, putting all the dry ingredients into baggies, so when we are crazy bizzy i can grab a baggie out of the basket and get dinner on the table in twenty minutes.  The other great thing is that a pot of this stuff will feed six or eight people, or more, if they are small, so it is handy to have around if you need to feed a crowd on the spur of the moment.

When celery and carrots go on sale, i buy massive quantities and run them through the dehydrator.  The dehydrated onions i buy, if you recall.  I also can chicken when i find a good sale on it, so that is what i use. I would think it would take at least a couple of the small cans of store bought canned chicken.  Also, this is a good recipe to use leftover chicken or turkey.

When i make the mix, i go ahead and make up three or four fancy cello bags with cute ties, and put the mix, a  jar of chicken and an instruction card in them.  Then you have a really great bribe, thank you or hostess gift ready to go, or if a friend turns up sick you can leave a bag on the doorstep, ring the bell, and run like mad.

Here we go....

THE WORLD'S BEST CHICKEN SOUP

This is what you put in each baggie: 
1 1/2 T chicken bouillon
1/2 t pepper
1/4 t thyme
1/8 t celery seeds
1/8 t garlic powder
1 bay leaf
1 T dried carrots
1 T dried celery
1 T dried onion
1 c uncooked egg noodles (we like noodles, so i double this)

When you get ready to cook the soup, combine:
1 baggie of mix
3 c diced chicken
8 c water

and then simmer 20 minutes.

That's it!!  Give it a try.  It is fast, easy, and delish!!


Since i am on a roll here,  have another one. 

I triple or quadruple this recipe, and store it in a half gallon jar that seals well.  This one is lunch in less than five minutes, and ya can't beat that!

POTATO SOUP
1 3/4 c instant mashed potatoes
1 1/2 c dried milk
2 T chicken bouillon
1 t dried parsley
2 t dried onion
1/4 t pepper
1/4 t thyme
1/8 t turmeric
1/2+ t seasoning salt


1/2 c mix plus 1 c boiling water, stir smooth, top with cheese, bacon bits and sour cream.



Last one.  This one also feeds a crowd, and i do the assembly line thing and make it up by the dozen.

(During the winter and kidding season, I keep several baskets all in a row on a shelf, each basket containing a different soup or meal mix, so i can just grab and go.)

JAMBALAYA
In the baggie:
1 c raw long grain rice
1 T dried onion
1 T dried bell pepper
1 T parsley
1 bay leaf
2 t beef bouillon
1/2 t garlic powder
1/2 t pepper
1/2 t thyme
1/4 - 1/2 t crushed red pepper (to taste, i use 1/4 for small peeps, 1/2 for big peeps)


To prepare, combine:
1 baggie of mix
3 c water
8 oz can tomato sauce
1/2 c ham or smoked sausage

simmer 20 minutes, then add:


1/2 c cooked shrimp
simmer 5 minutes.

How To End Terrorism

I can solve the problem.

I have a plan.

We will no longer need Homeland Security, Gitmo, The Czar of the Day, and possibly even the DOD.


Before going into the details of my scheme, let me state two things. 

First of all, the pseudonyms contained herein were bestowed upon the subjects by his mother, and her boyfriends mother.  I am merely carrying on what was started before me.  As such, Susan Dear Susan's son Levi will heretofore be known as "Twist Off," and his lovely girlfriend will be known as "Pop Top."

Secondly, let me say that we are all enamoured with Pop Top.  She is quite a hunny, and puts forth the best of what Texas Gals otta be...she is cute, smart, funny, courageous, and tough as nails (in a good way.)  The only chink we can find is that she appears to really like Twist Off.  Which is great, because, well, ya know, WE love him, but then WE HAVE to. 

I would also like to make it known to Pop Top, that as a sign of my affection and sympathy, i did not use the camera that i brought and had sitting on the table all day long.  I have not included pictures to help document my story, in the effort to help conceal your identity.  I haven't even done that for my own family!!

So i am telling this story with love.   Welcome to the family, Pop Top!!

Yesterday, Ellie May and i went to Susan's for the start of the Big Butchering Bonanza, which Twist Off came down to help with.  Am thinking he felt sorry for us after we told him about the two fat, menopausal women trying to hoist the lamb carcass up the tree last time. 

Twist Off brought his girlfriend home to "Meet Mom," and she got the double pleasure of meeting the "whole famn damily," which she handled graciously. 

Especially under the circumstances.

BACKGROUND INFO:  Susan grows these tiny little peppers she calls "Thai Peppers."  I don't know what they are.  Don't care.  They don't need a name, just a spot in the National Defense Plan.  They are about an inch long, and red or green, depending on age.  Susan makes a stock pot of chili and drops ONE of these chilies, whole, into the pot to give it fire.  It is discarded when chili is cooked, kinda like a bay leaf. These are dangerous little firecrackers, and Susan says she has never seen anyone actually EAT one. She gave me three of these little dudes last year, i used one and it just about killed my kids, so i let the others dry.  Haven't had the nerve to use them.  They are in a jar around here somewhere with a bio hazard sticker on them. 

So Twist Off and Pop Top arrive at Susan Dear Susan's late in the evening.  Family comes together after a long journey, and all are in celebration mode.  In the interest of keeping the story honest, because y'all KNOW i don't embroider my stories, it must be stated that adult beverages were involved, although Susan assures me that no one got trashed.  Just loosened up and laughing and having fun.

In the wee hours, for a reason unclear to me at this time, someone opened a jar of Susan's peppers.  Pop Top grabs one and takes a bite of it, turns red, and says, "Wow, those are hot, look I'm sweating!"  Then eats the other half.

Then she ate another one.

For those of you that are counting, that is Two.

Please refer to earlier mention that Susan has never seen anyone actually EAT one.

By the time Ellie and i got there, early in the morning, Pop Top wasn't feeling too well.

She was such a good sport, made a great showing, but it was way obvious that she wasn't at  her best.

Over the course of the morning, we were getting reports from Twist Off about the state of the state, which were not good, and periodically, Pop Top would come out to be social and friendly.  A real trooper.  I was quite impressed.  We all swapped stories, laughed at and with Pop Top, and kinda got to know her, within the confines of her present situation.

We love her.

Now, here is how we solve the terrorism thing.

Send all suspects to Queenacres for interrogation.

Turns out Pop Top just got out of the military three months ago.

Did a tour in Afghanistan.  Didn't phase her.

Did a TDY in Iraq.  Was injured in an explosion, but that hasn't stopped her.

But twelve hours with the Queens, and she went to the mat.

'Possum Pie

When Jethro was still a half pint, he came to me one day, and asked if he could change rooms with Ellie May.  I was befuddled, as we had just decorated his room in leopard, and it was very cute.  Or rather...manly.  Suitable and appropriate.  Whatever.  It was cute.

I questioned him and was told that he wanted Ellie's room because it was closer to the kitchen.

This boy is DEFINITELY my baby.

Not too long after that, Jethro was traipsing through the kitchen on his way out back, and that particular day he was wearing a 'coon skin cap and boots, carrying his "rifle" and a belt that served as a bandoleer, or as he called it, his "got bullets."  As he headed out the door, i asked him what he wanted for dinner, and, with a very serious face, and without skipping a beat, he replied, "opossum pie and deviled hawk eggs."

Being the indulgent mother that i am, for dinner that night i served deviled (chicken) eggs and chicken pot pie.

From that time forward, at this house, chicken pot pie has been known as opossum pie.


There are some people in our world who are always interested in what we are doing, in a kind of gawking at the sideshow freaks kind of way.  They like to hear stories of what we are doing on the homestead, but have absolutely no desire to live this kind of life themselves. 

I have found that the concept of butchering our own meat is the topic that consistently and simultaneously astounds, amazes, disgusts and interests people the most.

The lady that cuts our hair is one of these folks.  She always asks what is going on with the animals, and the children regale her with stories of our goings on, and some of the stories have been about butchering.

As we were taking turns sitting in her chair today, the conversation went to this weekend's upcoming "Butchering Bonanza," which i will detail in a moment.  There was some discussion with one of the new stylists, who stated that she preferred her meat to be wrapped in cellophane and laid out in the meat counter.  She didn't even try to hide her disgust with our desire to eat meat that had come from an animal that had been fed a clean diet; was not filled with vaccinations, hormones and chemicals; was loved and treated well; and then killed humanely. 

Imagine her face when, a couple of minutes later, Jethro mentioned something about having Opossum Pie for dinner the night before. 

If only I had had a camera.
Sorry you missed that one, fellers!
Whirrled Peas.


On to the Butchering Bonanza, in which Susan Dear Susan and her son Levi are set to send about 20 ducks and a couple of lambs to freezer camp.  Susan and I have had a couple of lambs on order, and as luck would have it, they are set to arrive on a weekend when i have to be in seven places over the course of about 48 hours.  True friends that they are, Susan and Levi have graciously offered to do the hard part for us.  We will be heading in to help with ducks tomorrow (NOT Isabell and The Bobs, btw) and then back on Sunday to do the fine cuts on the lamb. 

OH!!  I haven't gotten a chance to tell you all about Snippy going to freezer camp last week.

This is the first time we have put one of our own goats in the freezer.  Susan has helped us ease into it by keeping Snippy the last couple of months, and then "doing the deed" for us, in exchange for bedding hay.  There have been many goats that i never would have been able to make this leap with, but Snippy is not one of them.  He was an objectionable little brute.

But he grew up to be quite tasty!!

Susan smoked hocks and shanks for us, and made some awesome Snippy Sausage, which got three thumbs up at this house (Ellie May hates all things goatie, except for Dusty, and sometimes Maud and Splendora, so her vote doesn't count.)  Susan roasted and smoked some Snippy Ribs last weekend, and said they were fabulous. 

We have decided that perhaps we do like Snippy after all.  When he was in the barnyard he was an obnoxious little toot.  But we love him now.

Susan posted pictures of the "fine cuts" portion of the butchering process on her blog at http://www.queenacresonline.blogspot.com/ .  I was showing the pictures to Ellie, and she responded, "Poor Snippy, it looks like he went to pieces." 

Heartless child.