'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.