It's Hot

It is really, REALLY hot here. 

Mackerel and The Baas came by to pick up a couple of bales of hay a few minutes ago (i guess they didn't pick them up enough last month or something,) and Mackerel helped Ellie unload 500#'s of feed from the Farm Buick while they were here (Thank You Mackerel, hunny, for letting me abuse you yet again.)

I wasn't outside but about ten minutes, and i didn't do anything but point and give orders.

By the time i got inside i was drenched and dripping in sweat.

I walked in the house, and wilted into a chair.  Ellie May walked by, patted my hand and said,  "Hell will freeze over before Texas does, Mama."  Truer words....at least it feels that way this summer.

Couple of days ago, i overheard an older lady from somewhere up north correcting a younger woman from around here, telling her that "Ladies don't sweat, dear, they glisten." 

Obviously those fancy broads from north of the Red River got some kind of special dispensation from our Maker on that issue, 'coz down here, we sweat.

Gumshoe

It is a well known fact that i will walk a mile out of my way to step in a wad of bubble gum.

I hate bubblegum.

I don't chew bubble gum.

I don't let my children have bubble gum.

It grosses me out to find it in the trash when it hasn't been encased in paper first.

I really hate bubble gum.

The Crew thinks this is very funny.  When they are finished with their gum, they offer to stick it directly to the bottom of my shoe so that i don't have to worry about making a trip.

Yesterday, they came to help process peaches, and brought me a happy day prezzy.  I love prezzies, truly i do.  And this one is priceless.  I have now been pre-disastered, so i no longer need to worry about watching my step in parking lots and playgrounds.

There are three wads of gum there, all lovingly chewed, just for me, and the background of the shadowbox is all sticks of gum.

They are all so thoughtful.  Is it any wonder i love them so?

Sweet or Salty, Possibly Nutty Toffee Brittle

There are two casesof peaches in my kitchen waiting to be processed, and while rounding up my recipes for peach pie filling and peach salsa, i stumbled across this recipe.  Haven't made it in a while, but think i might throw some together to say thank you to The Crew for helping me slipskin today. 

I have seen lots of versions of this recipe, and am sure you have, too.  Mostly i am posting it because my copy is floating loose in my canning binder, and if i loose it, i will know exactly where to replace it...here!

The beauty of this one is not only that it is a quickie, but how versatile it is.  I have made it with saltines (my favorite,) graham crackers, and even used a generic ritz cracker one time.  It can be topped with any kind of nuts (we prefer slivered almonds or pecans) or chips (chocolate being the go to chip, but addition of peanut butter  or butterscotch chips changes it up a bit,) or both, or you can leave them off.  Here we go:

Line a cookie sheet with foil, then spray the foil. 

Place crackers or cookies side by each on the pan.  If you are using nuts, put them on top.

Bring 1 cup of butter and 1 cup of dark brown sugar to the boil, then simmer a good 5 minutes.

Pour the butter and sugar all over the crackers (and nuts if ya got 'em,) then pop the whole thing in a 350 oven for 6 - 8 minutes or so--you'll know when they are done.  The smoke alarm will go off.

Take them out of the oven, and cover the whole thing in chips.  Or not.  But if you do, let the chips melt, then spread them around.

Let them cool and break into pieces, just get them off the foil as soon as you can handle them.    If not, you'll be sorry.

Think i'll just go make some of these babies right now.

Small Town Life in East Texas

This weekend we went down south a bit to a 50th Anniversary gathering.  The groom's mother was in attendance, and i am still awed by what it must feel like to attend your son's Fiftieth Anniversary.

When asked what the secret was to lasting that long, the bride replied, "Hang in there."  When the groom was asked, he said, "Don't p*** off the cook."  Am thinking they are both right on the mark.

Boo and his bride drove up for the day, as well as my favorite uncle, Uncle Willard, and his lovely companion.  They missed the reunion last month, so i was extra glad to see them. 

I got to sit in on Paul Adeen and Uncle Willard reminiscing about their youth.  They told stories about living in a house in which Bonnie and Clyde had held a hostage, and about their dad helping pull B&C's car out of the Sabine.  Uncle Willard remembered seeing the train come through carrying John Dillinger's car on a flatbed, and the ag teacher taking them on a tour of the prison in Huntsville, and how much of an impression the electric chair made on him.  They talked of the sense of community that they felt, and how people looked after and took care of each other.  Their mother, a widow raising eight boys, nursed the sick and dieing, and then neighbors would share whatever they had with her to help feed all those boys.  They talked of the neighbor with a truck picking everyone up and taking them to the town square on Saturday, and how they "operated out of the back of the truck" all day, going to the movie for a nickel, then having an ice cream cone for a nickel.  Except for their brother Randy, who would spend a nickel on himself, then go to the 5&10 and spend the other nickel on a present for their mother.  These boys are now 74 and 81, and they STILL call him a suck-up.  I treasure those moments, and feel blessed to have witnessed them, and hope they don't mind me sharing.

I would have taken pictures for y'all, but first thing Paul Adeen said to me when i got to town was, "Sure hope you left your camera at home."  Seems Paul had been unaware that Boo had been sizing him up for the "oversized load" banner, so Paul got surprised and Boo got busted.  Several comments were made in agreement with my take on things (except that the sarcophagus is growing on Paul,) and no one took me up on my offer to remove pictures and/or stories, but i decided to reign it in this time anyway.  I guess we are all okay with ourselves, we just don't want any evidence.  (Note to Paul and Boo:  In retrospect, i am feeling much less guilt about the "oversized load" picture.  Am considering it payback for years of "square boozie" torture.) 

Bits and Pieces

Off to another family gathering this weekend, this time to celebrate a 50th Anniversary.  Isn't that wonderful?  I am so amazed that two people can live together for that long and not kill each other.  Or at least cause bodily damage.

Uncle Boo will be there, so let's see if there will be a "finger in the nose" picture to share, or if i finally shamed all three of them into cease and desist.

Note of interest:  When digging the hole the other day, it was noted that at 6 feet deep, the ground is BONE dry.  This is whatcha call a drought, fellers.

Because we are all scurrying around trying to get out of here, i am going to leave you with these two little tidbits from The Crew. 

Baas has figured out how to make the most amazing breakfast cookie...she took one third of the Granola recipe i shared a while back, added two eggs and a cup of flour, then baked them.  She has a mess o' babies, so she makes her cookies "family sized," and the ones i saw were the size of hockey pucks (or at least air hockey pucks, <<wink>>) and one of those and a glass of milk was the equivalent of a bowl of oatmeal, if you ask me.

And Breezy stumped me with the following riddle that was concocted in her own little mind:

note:  you have to abandon all discussion of the misleading term "pre-" historic, one of my favorite arguments ;o)



Q:  What do you get when you cross prehistoric man with a Nomad?

A:  Meanderthal

Y'all take care, i'll talk atcha next week.

Say Sister, Can You Spare Some Swedish Fish For a Fellow American?*

It occurs to me that i have only posted one picture of the lovely and talented Chickory Blossom.

This is a travesty for which i humbly apologize.

Chickory B is a Legacy daughter, and mother of The MarAUDer.

And we share a birthday.

She likes alfalfa hay, Swedish Fish, Twizzlers, any kind of fruit or cookie, and me.

She has a sassy personality, is spoiled rotten, the original "lap goat," and i wouldn't trade her for anything.  Doesn't hurt that she has the best teats in the doeyard, either. 

Chickory was a summer kid, and we had a terrible time getting her up and running, but has since turned out to be the star of the doeyard, and my personal favorite.  Chickory and i have a special relationship. 

Because of all the difficulty we had in the beginning, she trusts me completely. 

As you know, we do not vaccinate here, and do things as naturally as we can.  We purchased Lace from a vaccinated herd, and learned just how important it is to do things the way we do.  Lace had NO immune system whatsoever.  The first year she was here, we had a major bout of something every month, it seemed.  During one spell, her rumen shut down.  I had been waiting for the tell tale sign that it was time to do a cud transfer to kick start the rumen, and, in typical goat fashion, she did not give the sign until three o'clock one morning.  I had gotten up and gone out in my nightgown to check on her, not expecting it to be the moment, but there it was.  I was standing there with no gloves or syringes or another pair of hands or anything.  I was deciding who i was going to wake up to help me, and whose jaws i was going to pry open to steal the cud.  I turned around, and there was Chickory, looking up at me with love in her eyes, chewing a wad of cud like it was bubble gum.  I reached into this goat's mouth with my fingers three times to retrieve cud and then inserted it into Lace's mouth.  Lace fought it like a goat, but Chickory just let me reach in and steal her supper every time.  Never fought me, never ran from me, never tried to bite me (and those molars made for grinding branches are vicious, folks.)  She totally trusted me, and let me do what i needed to. 

Up to that point, Susan and others had teased me for how spoiled Chickory was.  That nite, i decided that it was okay, and i will always keep a spoiled goat in the barn. 

Or a couple.

(*Yes, we watched Treasure of the Sierra Madre recently.)

Osama Bin Llama

Osama went to meet his Maker today. 

And it didn't take a team of Navy SEALS. 
Just one cranky old man with a shotgun. 

He crashed hard and heavy, and as his final tweak, went down sprawled out up against the main gate to the pasture. 

After we dragged him over to the side so we could open the gate, we went in the house to prepare for the deed.  I looked out the window, and Sancho had come up to see what was going on, leaned down to give Osama a sniff.  I knew it was truly time when Osama pinned back his ears and tried to spit but couldn't.  Went out with his boots on.  He may not have been able to give the donkey what for, but everyone could see that he was ticked, nonetheless.

He was lots of fun while we had him.  Gonna miss that freak.

Having a hard year.