We're Not Home Yet

Are you a traveler?  An adventurer?  We enjoy traveling.  We especially like to tent camp in places like the Great Smoky Mountain National Park or Rocky Mountain National Park.  We also enjoy Fort Pickens in Pensacola, Florida, where we camp not far from the beach.  Taking in all the beautiful sights, eating food cooked over a campfire, drinking cowboy coffee and then hiking for hours on trails.  It's just invigorating and relaxing and we've piled up a mental library of family memories on these annual excursions.

But do you know the best part of traveling?  Getting home!  Pulling into the driveway is a rewarding experience.  Seeing familiar sights, but with renewed appreciation and then crossing over the Home Sweet Home doormat, opening the back door and walking inside, smelling the familiar smell of home.  It's nice, an experience that's hard to explain.  I guess some would call us 'homebodies.'

I'm blessed to have been raised in a family that values togetherness, family, and a simple, yet comfortable and safe home and environment.  We've tried to provide that same thing to our now-grown kids, realizing that not everyone has the opportunity of enjoying an intact family with those they love surrounding and supporting them.  We never take that for granted.  Maybe that's why Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.  Our family is not perfect and things aren't always idyllic, but God is faithful and has blessed us.

I wonder if you also do what I'm about to explain?  As I think about things, despite our blessings, my mind goes to things that are less than perfect, relationships that could be stronger, struggles and health issues that loved ones go through.  You wonder why do bad things happen to good people?  Why is there such suffering?  Why are things unjust?  Why is life so unfair?  The short answer is we live in a fallen world.  Ever since sin entered the world, things have been this way, with pain, toil, sorrow, sickness, parting, and death burdening us.  Can you imagine what it must have been like in the Garden before sin?

For the believer, there is a future glory waiting.  There is a coming Homecoming that will make the "pulling into the driveway after a trip" joy seem petty and trite.  The best way to illustrate this is from a story I heard that Dr. Criswell, pastor of First Baptist Dallas, wrote of: 

A faithful missionary couple returned to the United States on the same ship that carried Theodore Roosevelt home from a safari that he had been on in Africa.  A mob of reporters and well-wishers were on the dock, waiting to see Teddy Roosevelt after he got off the ship from his safari.  Nobody was there to greet the missionary couple who had returned home after serving on the mission field their entire lives in Africa.

Later that night in their simple hotel room, the couple talked about arriving back and the husband was downcast.  "It isn't fair," he said to his wife.  "Mr. Roosevelt comes home from a hunting trip and the entire country is waiting to greet him.  We come home after years of service on the mission field in Africa, and nobody was there to greet us."

And then his wife answered, "Honey, we aren't HOME yet."

For our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.  Philippians 3:20

Are you homesick?

Smells Bad, Tastes Good

Image Credit

When I sat down to write this post about smelly foods, my mind immediately went to durian.  I've never eaten it.  Durian, if you're not aware, is a fruit that grows in Malaysia and other parts of Southeast Asia.  It is said to have a delicious almond-custard taste, but a strong aroma that has caused the fruit to be banned in many places.  I'd like to try it someday.

Nope, we didn't have durian for lunch today, but we did eat some foods that are quite "aromatic," you might say.  First, we opened the seal on a jar of kimchi that we had made back in February when we harvested cabbage and carrots.  Kimchi is a Korean sauerkraut that is fermented and stored to age.

When finally opened, it has a slight fizz.  It's cold, tangy, flavorful.  It's very healthy and is supposed to be eaten before a meal to get your digestive enzymes working.  We enjoy it and have several more jars aging in the fridge to open and enjoy this summer.  Kimchi is probably not a dish I would have eaten as a kid.  It's funny how your taste buds change as you get older and more adventurous in your menus!

Now that our digestive enzymes are kicked into gear, it's time for the main course of our smelly culinary dishes of the day.  We normally eat primarily things that we grow in the garden or raise on the pasture, but not today.  We're on a mission.  We're rotating through our pantry of emergency foods we store in case of hurricanes, power outages from EMPs, pandemics, terrorist attacks or alien invasions.  We go through our oldest provisions and then restock the food pantry with items with longer expiration dates.

Today we'll pull out two tins of sardines.  They are approaching their 'use by' dates. Tricia opted for Mediterranean style sardines that are marinated in olive oil, black olives and spices.  For my choice, even though they are produced in Poland, I selected a tin of sardines in Louisiana hot sauce.  I never knew the Polish had an affinity for Louisiana hot sauce.  Who knew?

With a couple of slices of homemade and toasted sour dough bread, I made an open-faced sardine sandwich, pouring every drop of the Louisiana hot sauce marinade to be soaked up by the bread.  Very elegant.  Produced to be enjoyed by the discriminating palate.

The sardine steaks lay atop the bread and the pungent aroma of faraway seas and exotic fish markets filled the air.  I'm not sure if this meal would earn any Michelin stars, but it's downright delicious!  It was a lunch fit for a king and queen.  The last morsels of bread were used to sop up the savory fishy juices.  We topped off our coffee cups and enjoyed the afternoon.  Yes, we'll need breath mints after this meal.  (We're kind of weird, I know!)

Tears In the Kitchen

 After harvesting all of the onions in the garden, we brought them inside - out of the hot humid weather where they'd surely be rotten by now.  The sit in our "onion curing room" which doubles as our parlor when we don't have a tarp on the floor and a baker's rack full of onions sitting in the middle of it.  The ceiling fan overhead is on high and has been circulating air for about a month now. We've been quite fortunate to not lose a single onion.  Oh, one or two has begun to get a little soft, but if you peel off the outer layer, everything beneath it is fine.

On Saturday, it was a rainy day and we figured it would be beneficial to begin processing some of the onions.  With so many to choose from, we set our criterion for selecting the first onions to process.  We decided we would begin with choosing any that had the beginnings of a soft spot.  We found only two.  Then we selected all the small onions.  They were put into baskets and brought to the kitchen.

The first step in processing is to pull off the loose skin.  Then cut off the neck and the roots.  Then slice in half and remove the outer, papery skin.  Here's what you're left with.  The other thing that you must contend with is tears.

Finally, we chop them up into chunks.  These chunks will be perfect for cooking with.  We use an old chopper that has seen better days, but it still works like a charm.  I would love to know how many pounds of onions, peppers, and potatoes over the years it has cubed.  It's quite loud when you slam down the top.  Tricia wears ear plugs while doing it.

Just getting started, but we have a long way to go.

After working for a bit and putting a bunch of onion chunks in a big plastic bag for freezing, we decided to take a break for a week or two.  There's no rush for doing this as long as the onions cure and hold well.  Truth is, we are planning to take the bull to the slaughterhouse this summer.  It would be a doggone shame to have the deep freeze full of onions when it could be storing beef.

Just this little bit of chopping yielded a whopping 17 1/4 pounds of chopped onions.  Imagine how much time we've saved on the back side.  No more prepping and chopping onions and crying while you are cooking.  We've taken care of those tasks on the frontside.

Look at the onion curing room following chopping up 17 1/4 pounds of onions.  We didn't even put a dent in the onion inventory.

That's okay, we use a lot of onions in our kitchen.  The only slight rush to clearing this area is that it won't be too terribly long before we will be harvesting garlic and we'll need this area for curing garlic here.

Wisdom From The Reading List

Last week I was listening to The Bear Grease Podcast which has a series going right now on the Civil War.  Part 1 was very interesting.  The podcast mentioned that Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote Uncle Tom's Cabin, a book which exposed the cruelty of slavery to a huge audience, showing the practice was a moral evil.  In fact, when Abraham Lincoln met Harriet Beecher Stowe, he remarked, "So this is the little lady that started this great war."

I realized that I had never read Uncle Tom's Cabin.  I promptly reserved it from the library on my audiobook app.  It's a long book - 22 hours long, and tells a weaving story that, to be honest, is a tear-jerker.  It shows the atrocities of humans owning other humans as property, of beatings and splitting up of families.  Looking back, it is difficult to imagine that it ever happened - a stain on our nation.

The book's protagonist was Uncle Tom.  He's a good Christian man - one that we should aspire to be.  He constantly read his Bible and trusted his Lord.  His example of faithfulness to God in the face of terrible abuse is inspiring.  In one example, he finds himself owned by a cruel, heathen owner, Mr. Legree.   Legree is beating Uncle Tom mercilessly and Tom has done no wrong.

Legree says, "You see the Lord ain't going to help you; if he had been, he wouldn't have let me get you! This yer religion is all a mess of lying trumpery, Tom. I know all about it. Ye'd better hold to me; I'm somebody, and can do something!"

  "No, Mas'r," said Tom; "I'll hold on. The Lord may help me, or not help; but I'll hold to him, and believe him to the last!"

What faith!  What a man!  It reminds me of the verses in Daniel 3:17-18 when Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego are about to be thrown into the fiery furnace, they tell King Nebuchadnezzar that God can save them.  They go on to say the following:

"If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up."

We can certainly learn a lot from the example of Uncle Tom, of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.

The second book of the week was, well, I don't know why I did this to myself, but I read Old Yeller, again.  It was another tear jerker.  Spoiler Alert if you've never read it: (Who's never read Old Yeller??!!)  Old Yeller dies at the end.  This audiobook is only 3 hours long.  Old Yeller arrives as an unwelcome guest, stealing meat from the family.  Travis, the protagonist, initially hates the dog, but Old Yeller soon proves himself and is loved by the family.  You can really see the love that grows between the children and their beloved pet, Old Yeller.

Although I can't remember the book mentioning God, it has a strong Christian theme running just beneath the surface.  Old Yeller loves the Coates family and sacrifices his safety, saving the family from a bear, wild hogs and a wolf that has rabies.  Old Yeller eventually gives his life for the family he loves.  You see, Old Yeller loves Travis and Travis, in turn, loves that dog so much.  After Old Yeller is bitten by the rabid wolf, Travis must make a tough decision and put down the dog he loved before he got rabies and put the family at risk.  You can feel his pain and as the book closes; you find yourself mourning right there with him, discouraged, depressed, and melancholy.

But then Travis' dad returns from bringing cattle to market.  He finds Travis dejected, unable to even feel joy for the horse that his dad had brought him back.  The saddle horse was what Travis always wanted and had long dreamed of.  Travis' father uses this moment to encourage Travis, teaching Travis that in life there are sure to be hard times and disappointments.  He uses this opportunity as a teachable moment about life, telling Travis, "A part of the time, it's mighty good. And a man can't afford to waste all the good part, worrying about the bad parts. That makes it all bad."

Between the two books on the list this week, if I was a crier, I would have consumed some Kleenex tissue.  Instead, I gleaned some wisdom: Maintain a strong, unshakable faith in God and focus on all the good things and blessings in our lives.  Don't worry.  Enjoy life.  Make sure you are prepared for eternal life.

Pickin' Sweet Corn

We grow a couple of heirloom varieties of sweet corn each year like we've done for umpteen years or so.  Sweet corn is one of those things that has at least two rows allocated each spring.  It grows fast and grows tall.  It feeds on the nitrogen in the soil provided by composted chicken litter and that homemade funky smelly fertilizer we've learned to make.

When I said it grows tall, I'm not pulling your leg.  Eleven feet from ground level to the top of the tassel!  The height is impressive, but it's also a curse of sorts.  When spring rains come they're usually accompanied by winds ahead of the thunderstorm.  Those gusts tend to lay the corn on the ground.  In the past, I'd stand them up and press dirt around the base to hold them straight.  That was a time consuming and unsuccessful venture.

For the past several years, I've opted for a better solution, using the "Florida Weave" method that I use for trellising tomatoes, but more simplified.  I drive a t-post on each end of the row and weave baling twine in and out all the way down the row and around the other t-post.  Coming back I weave the twine on the opposite side and cinch it up tight to the t-post on the end.  That way it makes the corn stand up straight again, which is important.  The tassels produce pollen that fertilizes the ears and that pollen uses the wind and gravity to do its job.  If the corn is laying down, my guess is that a lot of the ears will have blanks.  Each silk thread equates to a kernel of corn.  If pollination is not successful the ears will have blank spots.

Just look at that beautiful red silk!

A Beautiful "Red-Head"

Here's how you know when the corn is ready for harvest.  That beautiful red silk will turn brown.  When that happens, you've got to be ready to pick.  If you wait, you are in danger of a big fat worm eating its way through the ear or the corn will not be as juicy as it would have been if picked earlier.

It was a hot, humid morning and by the time I had picked every ear that was ripe, I had soaked my shirt.  I brought the crate of corn into the garage and put it in the refrigerator to cool down.  I wanted to cool down to, but there was still work to do.

I cut the corn stalks and carried to Nicky, the bull.  Nicky was thankful.  Popcorn the buck was grateful as well.

Aww Shucks!

A customary corn harvest day always involves eating a bite-full of raw sweet corn right there in the corn patch.  I want to show you my favorite variety - Country Gentleman.  I like the name of this variety.  I think it sounds noble.  Wouldn't you like to be considered a country gentleman?  This is a white shoepeg corn.  I like it also because the kernels are arranged in random, haphazard fashion unlike the uniform organization of 'normal' corn.  Somehow I can identify with that jumbled, unorganized arrangement!

Here is the other variety - Stowell's Evergreen Sweet Corn.  These kernels are lined up in neat lines like you're used to eating when you enjoy corn on the cob.

We blanched all the corn on the cob for nine minutes, cooled it in a sink of iced water and then used a sharp knife to cut the corn off the cob, scraping the cobs to get all the juicy corn "milk".  Then I spooned it into quart ziploc bags.  Yes, we re-use bags that are still in good shape!

Later, we'll thaw and make our two favorite dishes with sweet corn - Corn Macque Choux and Elote (Mexican Street Corn).  I think if it ever stops raining, I'm going to go plant a couple more rows of sweet corn.  You can't have too much of this in the freezer or to eat fresh right off the cob.

A Bad Dude in the Back Yard

I walked out to check on the bees.  There is lots and lots of activity.  In fact, I need to open the boxes to see if I need to add more honey supers on top.  I don't want them to run out of room and swarm on me.  Honey Extraction time is about a month and a half away.  As I looked at the bees, there must have been a sizable hatch from the two hives that we split.  Initially, the population in both the split hives was a little low, but now many bees fly in and out, bringing in nectar and pollen.

It was hot and humid so I sat on the swing by the BBQ pit.  The shade of the live oak tree makes it a nice place to sit on hot days.  While sitting, I heard a loud buzzing noise.  It was too loud to be a honeybee, but I couldn't locate the direction it was coming from or what was causing the vibrating noise.  Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement.  A huge hornet-looking creature had a cicada in its clutches and was dragging it along the ground.

This operation was no small feat as I'm positive the cicada was bigger in size and weight than that of the wasp.  I looked it up and this thing is called the eastern cicada killer wasp.  It gets its name honestly, because that's exactly what he's doing.

The cicada killer's fancy name is Sphecius speciosis.  They use their stinger to paralyze the cicada and then they grasp it in it's arms and legs and begins climbing a tree (or a pole, in this instance).  Since the cicada is heavy, the use gravity to assist them.  They climb high and then jump off and fly to their underground nest carrying their prey with them.

Something like Uber-eats or Door Dash, I suppose.  The wasp drags the cicada in her hole in the ground and lays eggs on top of the cicada and then covers her burrow up with dirt.  When the eggs hatch, the larvae eat the cicada.  Thanks for the food, mom!  It grows, digs out of the burrow and continues the cycle.

I watched in amazement as the cicada killer was focused on it's task.  As it buzzed by my ear, I ducked.  I read that the males don't have stingers.  It's only the females that sting.  There's a parable in that sentence, I'm sure, but I'll leave that alone.  I wasn't about to try to determine if that big wasp was a male or female, so I just got out of it's way.

The Local Park

We have a local park here in Jennings.  It is at the junction of I-10 and LA Highway 26 and is called the Louisiana Oil & Gas Park, commemorating the discovery of oil in Louisiana here nearby in a little town called Evangeline.  There is an old wooden oil derrick and there is a lake that is stocked with catfish and in the spring, believe it or not, rainbow trout.  Around this lake is a walking trail and Tricia and I frequently walk briskly for 30 minutes around the lake taking in the sights.  There are numerous ducks and tourists flock in (pardon the pun) and purchase feed to feed them.  The fat ducks waddle up and poop all over the sidewalk that makes up the walking trail, making messy obstacles to maneuver around.

But the real attraction at this park is the Gator Chateau.  You can go inside the visitor center and enjoy free coffee and a gift shop and listen to locals playing french music while they pick up tourist information that gives where to get boudin and cracklins in town, among other things.  It's called the Gator Chateau because it is home to a number of alligators that lounge about in their nice habitat.

It's clean - much cleaner than where we normally see them in muddy bayous.  They pose for pictures and probably feel quite fortunate that they aren't someone's cowboy boots, purse are belt.  At least not yet, anyway.

The main attraction in the Gator Chateau is that you can actually get to hold a baby gator.  They have their nails painted and that's how you can pick out the one you want to hold.  The one below with the pink toenails is named Chloe.

I enjoyed my free cup of coffee and looked at Chloe for a bit while finishing up being a tourist in my own town.  If you're ever in our neck of the woods, stop off at the Oil and Gas Park, sit for a spell, and enjoy yourself.