Breeding Annie

Annie is our Nubian goat who is 2 1/2 years old.  We thought that she had been bred back in December and were expecting her to kid in May.  We noticed that she was beginning to show signs that she was about to kid in May as her udder began to swell, but then she never went into labor.  We never found any signs that she miscarried.  It was just strange all around.  To this day we still don't know for certain what happened, but we're not giving up and want to try again.

We began to search the area for Nubian bucks to breed her and fortunately were able to find that a gentleman right down the road about four miles or so that has a Nubian buck.  He also has Jersey bulls and we had taken our cows over to have them bred before, so we are familiar with him and his set-up.  I made arrangements to bring Annie to him so that his buck could breed Annie.  Benjamin and I went into the pasture tonight and found Annie sitting atop the round bale of hay.  We grabbed her by her collar and let her out of the pasture and toward the driveway.  Annie hardly ever gets out of the pasture and she was leery.  What are they up to?  Big Boy was barking his head off and Annie became very nervous and jittery.  She tried to bolt and run, but we held her tightly.

Time to go, Annie

Since Nellie (Annie's mom) died in December, we hadn't had any goat kefir to drink.  Goat kefir is a drinkable yogurt made from goat milk.  We add honey, fruit and a dash of cinnamon and it makes a delicious, healthy breakfast smoothie.  We are anxious to get Annie bred so that she'll kid and be in milk so that we can have goat milk once again.

We don't have a trailer to carry her in, but being that the buck is only four miles down the road, we lifted her into the back of my son's truck and Benjamin and I jumped in the back, holding Annie tightly, as Tricia chauffeured Annie down the road to meet the buck.  I'm sure we were a strange sight riding down the road with a goat in the back of the truck!

Riding in the back of the truck

At one point Annie got very antsy and nervous and began to cry and try to get up, but I laid down on top of her and held her firmly until we reached our destination, pulling her out of the truck with the leash.  The gentleman I spoke with has many goats and dairy cows, along with bees.  He has a nice place.  We began walking Annie into his pasture toward a pen.  He'll isolate Annie and the buck in the corral for however long it takes for her to get bred.  

Immediately the buck came running and jumped on top of her - repeatedly.  But Annie is not in heat yet.  Goats are like deer and only really breed during the fall/winter months.  I don't know for sure how to tell when a doe is in heat, but I did read something that said that just being around a buck will cause a doe to come into heat.

I don't really know how long it will take for successful breeding to take place.  It could be a few days. It could be a few weeks.  We'll just wait and see.  Hopefully, though, Annie will be successfully bred this time around, and she will kid this spring.

A Moral to The Story

Almost a week ago, we moved from summer into autumn, and according to the weatherman, we'll be seeing some mild weather here shortly with lower temperatures and humidity.  In addition to nicer weather, autumn means that pecans will be ripening and falling and when I think of that, I think of a couple of things - pecan pies and Crows!

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Although we don't get many crows competing for our pecans here at our house, we do at the farm. The pecan orchard at the farm was planted by my great-grandfather and to be honest, the crows probably consume more of the pecans than we do.  You can hear them with their incessant, "Caw, Caw, Caw" echoing across the pasture as they alert all their feathered friends that there are pecans to be eaten.  Apart from being a complete nuisance in the pecan orchard, crows are pretty intelligent creatures.  In fact, they are one of the world's most intelligent creatures, approaching the intelligence of apes.

In thinking about crows, it reminds me of a favorite storybook of mine when I was a kid - Aesop's Book of Fables.  It was a big book and beautifully illustrated, but more than that, the stories all had morals.  There was a fable about crows called "The Crow and the Pitcher" that I remember.

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This Link recounts the fable that came from a poem by Bianor, a Greek poet from the First Century:

A Crow, half-dead with thirst, came upon a Pitcher which had once been full of water; but when the Crow put its beak into the mouth of the Pitcher he found that only very little water was left in it, and that he could not reach far enough down to get at it. He tried, and he tried, but at last had to give up in despair. Then a thought came to him, and he took a pebble and dropped it into the Pitcher. Then he took another pebble and dropped it into the Pitcher. Then he took another pebble and dropped that into the Pitcher. Then he took another pebble and dropped that into the Pitcher. Then he took another pebble and dropped that into the Pitcher. Then he took another pebble and dropped that into the Pitcher. At last, at last, he saw the water mount up near him, and after casting in a few more pebbles he was able to quench his thirst and save his life.

Depending on which book you read, there are several morals to the story:

• Little by Little does the trick, or as we say it, "Inch by inch, it's a cinch!" or
• Thoughtfulness is better than brute strength, or
• Necessity is the Mother of invention, or
• Where there's a will, there's a way.

Of course any of those morals are good to know and employ in our everyday lives.  I hate to get out-smarted by a bird, but I'll admit I often fail at the second bullet point below.  I try to just work hard to solve things instead of taking time to think things through, when there is an easier way.  I'm a 'roll up your sleeves' type guy.

Yesterday, while straddling over rows of recently planted fall vegetable crops, pulling out weeds that were crowding out the seedlings, I began thinking and I had an epiphany of sorts, not unlike the crow in the fable mentioned above. "There's got to be a better way!"  I hate weeding.  It is back breaking work and monopolizes time I could spend elsewhere.  Once the plants have grown, I mulch around them with hay and it acts as a pretty good barrier against weeds, but when the plants are young and less than two inches tall, hay mulch is useless.

So I emailed a horticulture professor from LSU about an idea that would make weeding the garden an obsolete task and he answered me today, saying that the idea would work, but would require a little tweaking to work in our growing zone. I'm going to experiment with that idea for my spring garden, because it is too late now for that fall garden.  I'll gather some information and will post a little later about the idea.  Thank you, crows, for the inspiration!

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A Morning Stroll

On the weekends once the chores are done, I like to take a walk around the garden and yard and make a mental note of things that need to be done.  Not only that, I just like to take it all in and enjoy the sights and sounds.  I don't get to do that on the weekdays since I'm rushing off to work.  I find that the morning light filtering through the tree line on the eastern side of the property casts the perfect light on plants growing and you get to see some neat sights that you might otherwise miss.

Take for instance the young cucumber plants just popping up.  This year I'm trying a fall crop of cucumbers.  I planted them within the prescribed fall planting times and we'll have to see if I can harvest some cukes before the first frost hits.  While we canned some pints of dill pickles, we didn't make any tzatziki, and I have a hankering for some of that.

These are Boston Pickling Cucumbers that I saved last year and they seem to be coming up nicely, pushing the clods of dirt up and out of the way as they stretch out reaching for the sun.

The morning dew not only covers your boots as you walk across the grass, but the dewdrops decorate the outer edges of the cucumber cotyledons.

Dewdrop Artistry

Just a few rows over, a lavender flower catches my eye.  It is an eggplant flower. These eggplants were planted from seed back in early January.  A full nine months later, and after numerous blooms, we've harvested exactly ZERO eggplants.  Very disappointing.  Tricia actually purchased an eggplant this weekend and made caponata, a delicious dish containing eggplant, black olives, tomatoes, among other things.  What a shame when we have 5 huge eggplant plants taking up space on row 5 in the garden.  I guess I'll be patient.  Perhaps we'll harvest some yet this year.

I read that blossom drop is caused by one of two things.  One is a lack of water and the other is a lack of pollination.  It has been dry, but I have watered the garden. Still no eggplants.

Pretty eggplant blossom

As far as pollination, as if on cue, while I was looking at the huge eggplant foliage, a honeybee, presumably from the colony of bees that live in the column by our side door, flew by and landed on the eggplant leaf.  

Please pollinate our eggplants

We have no shortage of bees in the garden, so I'm pretty sure pollination is not the problem, but I watched the bee as he seemed to enjoy the cool morning as much as I.  He posed while I snapped this shot on the tip of the eggplant leaf.

Honeybee on an Eggplant Leaf

On the very next row, the Asian Cabbage (Bok Choy) is growing nicely.  It appears that we achieved a near 100% germination rate and some of these are ready for harvest now as tender, baby greens.  I like to allow them to get bigger, though.  The mid-90 degree heat we're still experiencing takes its toll on them.  In the evenings when I get home, they look exhausted, leaves drooping to the ground.  In the early morning, they are refreshed and healthy looking though.

Young Bok Choy

I hear a loud noise in the distance and see Penelope the peahen flying down from her roost, landing on the top of the barn.  She flies to the top of an oak tree to sleep each night, safe from predators.

Penelope the Peahen

She is rested and refreshed and ready to start her day and so am I!

2015 Luffa Gourds

I wanted to show you something in the garden.  The Luffa Gourd currently growing in the garden.  Ig came up volunteer this year from seeds from last year's crop, and I just didn't have the heart to pull it out.  If you look at the bottom right portion of the photo, there is also a Birdhouse gourd growing - also a volunteer from last year. 

This is an oddity for us, since we normally plant things that are good to eat.  This is something that isn't for eating, although I've heard (but haven't tried) that the young luffas can be eaten like a cucumber.  We use luffas as bath sponges, and I've got to tell you, we've been impressed.  The one from last year is still holding up well in the shower after a year of use!  Imagine that, a product from the garden keeping us clean.

Luffa Gourd (along with a birdhouse gourd

In addition to providing the coolest bath sponge you'll ever come across, in the early morning hours, the vines burst forth with a stunning display of yellow flowers that brighten up the entire garden.

Luffa flowers

If you stop and look at the healthy luffa vines closely, you'll see a number of tendrils that grab on and attach themselves to anything.  They look, and act, exactly like springs, allowing the vine to sway and give with the wind that blows or rain that falls.  I think I mentioned it before, but I'll bet that the inventor of the coiled spring got his inspiration by looking at what the Creator made in the Garden, don't you think? 

Nature's Spring

In the seven o'clock position in the photo below, you can see a baby luffa gourd just beginning to grow.  We'll harvest and dry as many as we can this year, giving them to family, friends and neighbors.

Beautiful luffa flower and a baby luffa gourd in the background

We still have several left from last year.  I have them arranged on the kitchen floor below with my foot in the picture for perspective.  Most are about a foot and a half long.  We cut them in half to make two bath sponges out of a single luffa.  In the shower, you merely squirt some liquid soap or rub a bar of soap on the wet luffa until it lathers and then use it as a washcloth.  It cleans and exfoliates your skin.  You probably don't want to use it every day, since you don't want to remove all of the oil that your skin produces.

13 Luffas left over from last year

In reading about the versatile luffa, I learned that during World War II it was used as filter material in the Navy's steam and diesel engines and lining in Army helmets.  Its a pretty incredible plant.

These things make tons of seeds, so if anyone would like any, just let me know and I'll save some for you.

The 2015 Peanut Harvest

Way back in the very first part of May, we posted THIS to show you our second attempt at growing peanuts.  Our first attempt netted about 1 cup of peanuts in the shell.  Benjamin and I promptly roasted them and made a small portion of homemade peanut butter and quickly consumed it.  Rich, creamy and delicious.

Last year's crop yield was disappointing due to me waiting way too long to harvest.  I got some bad information that told me to wait for the leaves to turn yellow.  I followed those directions dutifully, but the leaves never turned yellow.  When I finally dug them up, many had sprouted inside the shell.  I researched a little more and found that you are supposed to harvest one plant at 110 days after planting and check to see if they are ripe.

Once the prescribed 110 day growth period was up, I dug up one of the plants and the peanuts were not ripe yet.  I attributed this to a very, very dry June-July.  The information said to give an additional 2 week growing period and try again.  In two weeks we did it again and although the peanuts were larger, I figured we'd give it another two weeks.  Here is our peanut patch - two 15 foot rows of peanuts:

This picture shows how the peanuts are formed.  A peg drops into the ground with a peanut growing on the end of it.

Peanut at the end of a peg

Benjamin once again helped me harvest the peanuts.  I loosened the ground around the base of the plant with a shovel, and Benjamin gently lifted the plant from the ground, shaking the loose soil from the roots.

Not bad!

With one of the two rows completely harvested, we had already far more peanuts than last year's crop!  Benjamin was happy.  He determined that we would roast (or parch) half of our crop and make peanut butter with the remaining half.

Halfway done!

Although the yield was better, that's not to say it was perfect.  As you can see in the palm of my hand below, we still had some peanuts that were over-ripe and had sprouted in the shell and were growing new plants.  I still consider myself a novice peanut grower.  I think we can improve our peanut growing more, but it seems that since peanuts are maturing at different rates, you are always going to have this problem to some extent.

We didn't get to this one soon enough

Once harvested, we carried the peanuts into the garage and hung them, peanuts on top, from the Garfish (our canoe).  We will allow them to dry for 2 to 3 weeks.  The weather is getting less and less humid by the day, so they ought to be dried out nicely by mid-October.

A "Boatload" of peanuts

We tried to eat one just right out of the shell raw.  Not too good, to be honest.  We'll wait until they are dry and roast them and THEN eat them.  They won't last long.

2015 Peanut Crop Drying



Our 2015 Peanut Crop: We approve and so does this guy!:

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We'll show you the next step in this process in three weeks or so...

Trench Composting

Each afternoon, I carry a bucket out to the garden and look for my shovel.  We keep the blue plastic bucket under the sink, and the bucket contains many of the same items, shredded paper, egg shells, coffee grounds/filters, vegetable scraps and other items that decompose.  While I do have a compost pile in the corner of the garden that consists of last season's leaves mixed with cow poop, my primarily composting method consists of a practice called Trench Composting.  This Article explains the simplicity of trench composting.

The compost bucket

We do pay a monthly fee for garbage pickup.  Every Friday morning a garbage truck picks up our household waste.  Benjamin wheels the can to the curb on Thursday evening and on most days, the can is only 1/3 full and only contains plastics, glass, or shiny cardboard items or other things that don't easily compost. In the past we shared our excess garbage capacity with our neighbors, it just seems like such a waste of money when we don't fill the can.  In any event, we're not adding much to the Parish Landfill and, in turn, are building our soil instead of exporting soil amendments off site.

In trench composting you don't need to worry about the temperature of the compost pile or ratio of the brown components versus green components or keeping the compost moist.  Trench composting is easy.  Simple.  I like simple. I just dig a trench in the path between the garden rows like shown in the photo below:

Then I deposit the bucketful of household waste into the trench.

Then, I back fill the hole with the dirt from the hole and put my shovel at the end of the hole to mark the location where I'll put tomorrow's waste in the ground.  Eazy-peazy, right?  When I finish trench composting on an  entire row, I'll fill the valley between the rows with leaves and hay.  That fill will also decompose, becoming a barrier for weed growth, a haven for earthworms, a soft walking area, and will ultimately become soil.  The neat thing is, you can see your soil getting better year after year.

When I reach an area where I've previously trench composted (months and months ago), I notice that the ground is not hard and compacted.  It is easier to dig and work the soil.  I also notice an abundance of earthworms.  Earthworms consume the waste and aerate the soil in the trench.  They love trench composting!

My goal is to rotate the row location each year, so that the rows  this year are built up directly over the trench composting from last year.  That enables the roots to easily locate nutrients left by the compost and earthworm activity.  Over the course of a year, we've pretty much trench composted each pathway between every row. When we butcher chickens, we easily trench compost an entire 30 foot pathway between the rows in order to bury chicken heads, guts, and feathers.  Also when an old laying hen dies, we trench compost her and she switches her productivity from producing eggs to producing vegetables.  Heck, when I kick the bucket, I might get Tricia to trench compost me...

Moving the Cows From One Paddock to Another

We have a 3 acre pasture for our cows to browse around on and eat grass.  Although we have a nice-sized vegetable garden, the crop on our little homestead that gives vegetables a good run for the money is grass.  Let me further define that - a Bahia-Bermuda mix that grows out on the pasture intermixed with various weeds that grow up from the seed bank in the soil.  The more noxious weeds like Bitterweed, I pull up from the roots when I spot them growing.

The Bahia and Bermuda grass that grows wasn't planted.  It just naturally comes up.  I've found that the easiest, cheapest and best forage for us is not grasses that you plant from seed and 'force' to grow, they are the grasses that just come up on their own.  They are native to our area and seem to thrive without any inputs other than sunshine, rainfall, and animal fertilizer.  I'll probably add some lime to the pasture at some point, but really there's not much work in making our pasture grass grow.  There is, however, a little work in managing the 'buffet table' that our cows graze on.  I'm talking about the pasture, of course.

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The photo above shows the two northern-most paddocks in our pasture.  We have the 3 acre pasture divided into six individual paddocks, and the animals are allowed access to only 1 of the six at any given time.  The remaining five are blocked off as we rotate the cows through the paddocks and allow them to dine on fresh green grass that they love.  The paddocks are arranged so that the cows always can walk to shade, hay bale, and the water trough.  This is done by having a lane that all the paddocks open up to and share.

The paddocks are divided by portable electric fencing  I use poly-wire supported by fiberglass, step in posts.  Our paddock sizes aren't uniformly sized as our pasture isn't a perfect square or rectangle. Moving the cows through the pasture takes some management as there are several variables in deciding when it is time to move them from one paddock to another; it's not as easy as just moving them to a fresh paddock every day.

First, the time of year matters.  During early spring when it is still cool, the grass grows slowly and the cows quickly eat the tender growth on top.  In this case, I do cycle them to the next paddock quickly.  Next, the heat index matters.  During the heat of summer, the cows only eat grass first thing in the morning and in the late afternoon.  In this case, it may take 4 days for the cows to eat the grass in a paddock.  Also, in this environment, a lot of the grass is wasted since it grows faster than they can eat it, and the grass grows a long stem and seed head, which the cows avoid. Finally, the level of the grass eaten matters.  We try to ensure that the cows aren't eating any lower than 3 inches down on the grass.  Any lower and they can pick up parasites, so when the grass is eaten down, we move them.

Cows are true grass aficionados.  They are connoisseurs of grass and when they see me reeling up the poly-wire, they come running to get into the paddock with the fresh grass.  They know what they want and go get it!  I have several of These reels and they make opening up new paddocks easy, fast and efficient.  The picture below best illustrates this.  You can see the poly-wire running across the top of the photograph, and you can see how the grass is clipped short at the bottom in the paddock where the cows have been eating and the longer grass at the top, where they'll be moved.

See the difference in the grass height?  The difference is a miracle of sorts.  That grass has largely been converted into milk!  The sun grows the grass which is eaten by the cows, converted to milk. The waste is deposited (plop, plop) back on the pasture and combined with sunshine and rain, grows more grass and the cycle continues.

The advantages of splitting the pasture into paddocks are numerous.  This helpful link from NRCS shows the benefits of rotational grazing.  In our experience we've found all of the benefits to be true. Believe it or not, rotational grazing allows your pasture to produce more grass than in a continuous grazing arrangement.  Rotating them through different paddocks allows the pasture to "rest" and gives your pasture diversity in grass types.  The animal can pick and choose what she likes to eat and not just "cherry-pick" only one type of grass.  More grass growth, as opposed to constant-clipped growth, allows the grass to grow a deep root system, making it more healthy and gives some semblance of being drought resistance.

When you employ rotational grazing you can 'stockpile' grass.  We call one of our paddocks the sacrifice pasture.  We allow it to grow up at the end of the season and turn the cows in it to clean it up after the other grass is gone.  It is sort of like having a pantry full of canned goods for them in the off season.  Finally, as discussed above, rotational grazing allows a form of parasite control, since the cows are grazing off of grass tops instead of eating close to the ground where they pick up parasites.

We feel that rotational grazing has been a great pasture management tool for us in giving our cows the best from our limited pasture and we constantly try to improve our management of the land.

The Seven Steak

When we butchered our grass fed steer and had it cut up into various cuts, one of the cuts was the seven steak.  Seven steak comes from the chuck portion of the animal and gets its namesake from the cut across the shoulder blade that forms a perfect number seven.  Can you see it?

Steak and gravy or, more commonly called around here, rice and gravy, reduces the meat to a supporting role to the locally grown rice and gravy.  But don't be fooled, the meat creates the real flavor.  This is a hearty meal that will cause you to loosen your belt one notch and will arouse a drowsy, satisfied feeling send you to the nearest comfortable chair for a nap after eating.

Tricia simply seasons the steak, searing it on both sides in a cast iron dutch oven. Once that's done, she adds enough water to cover, along with onions garlic, celery and bell pepper and allows it to simmer for a couple of hours.  Then she adds cut up carrots, green beans, and potatoes.  In a separate pot, she makes a roux with beef tallow and 1/3 cup flour and stirs that into the pot and cooks it for another hour and a half.  At that point it's time to return thanks to the Good Lord for His provision and serve up a heaping pile of rice and top it with the thick, brown, tasty gravy and pieces of tender meat.  A meal fit for a king - King of the Recliner, that is.

I hate to be redundant, but here's another picture, so I can at least feast my eyes on it again.

The Seven Steak.  Many people attribute the Number 7 as providing good luck.  I don't believe in luck.  I believe in blessing.  In the Bible, the number 7 is the number of completeness and perfection. I learned HERE that:

• The word seven is used 745 times in the Bible,
• According to Jewish tradition, the creation of Adam was on October 7, 3761 BC.
• There are seven days in the week and God's Sabbath is on the seventh day,
• The Bible is divided into 7 major divisions: the Law, the Prophets, the Psalms, the Gospels and Acts, the General Epistles, the Epistles of Paul and the book of Revelation.

The number seven.  Completeness & Perfection.  The Seven steak.  Yep, that about sums it up.

Clarabelle's Genetics Test Results are in

In this post from last week, we talked about how we had taken hair samples from Clarabelle and had them sent off for her to be tested to determine if she had A2/A2 genetics.  You can read about what A2 milk is and what benefits drinking it provides in that post or in other other articles such as THIS.

About 65% of the milk from Jersey cattle is A2.  We have been trying to breed our cows with the goal being to produce offspring that are A2/A2. Of course milk from an A1/A2 cow is better than milk from an A1/A1 cow, and we feel that drinking raw milk is the best option for our family regardless of the genetics, but we really are shooting for an A2/A2 replacement heifer.  Is Clarabelle going to be the one?

The Genetic Lottery

Each day since we mailed off the hair samples, I've been asking Tricia if the test results had come back in.  Each day the answer was, "Negative, no results yet."  So on Friday we received an email back notifying us of the test results.

The concise and to the point email was kind of anti-climactic after all the build-up and suspense, but the results did make us happy.  Clarabelle is A2/A2 and that means that she is a keeper.  Our little pasture doesn't have any more carrying capacity for additional stock, but we'll find a way to keep an A2/A2 heifer and she'll, in turn, be good breeding stock to hopefully provide us with more calves with A2 genetic dominance.

The Pickup Truck

A few Saturdays ago, Benjamin and I headed to the farm in Oberlin to help Dad with Part II of a fence building project.  We attack this project in phases and, to be honest, we'll never finish the job in our lifetimes.  As soon as we fix one portion fence, there is another portion that is in desperate need of repair.  That's okay, though, that's how many projects are - sort of like weeding the garden!

While we were gone, Tricia kept the home fires burning and while she was doing chores, she searched on her iPad for "Cowboy Songs" - old country and western type music that was much different from most of the pop-country that you hear today - not necessarily bad - just different. Those songs told stories and invoked memories of earlier, simpler times.  When we came back home, she played for us "The Pickup Truck Song," by Jerry Jeff Walker.  Behold.  Press the arrow on the middle of Jerry Jeff's face below to listen to The Pickup Truck Song.  I've posted the lyrics below and my thoughts on riding in pickup trucks follow. Enjoy!

Pickup Truck Song
Jerry Jeff Walker

Yea, I used to look forward to Saturdays
When me and my grandpa'd get way
We'd hop in his pickup truck and we'd go to town
We had a couple chores that we had to do
It didn't take long before we were through
Then we'd let the pickup truck just wander around

We'd make a run to the county dump
We'd always wave when we saw someone
Grandpa'd make up a song as we rolled along
To the post office without fail
We get some feed and we'd check out the mail
And we never took the same road twice on the way back home.

I spent a few years out runnin' free
I spent two or three in New York City
And I moved back to Texas tired, hell I'd had enough
I'd go to Luckenbach on Saturdays
Cause Hondo had a way to brighten up my day
He always made me laugh when we rode in his pickup truck
We'd make a run to the county dump
We'd always wave when we saw someone
Hondo'd make up a tale as we rolled along
To the post office without fail
He'd get some chew and we'd check out the mail
And we never took the same road twice on the way back home

Well I miss grandpa and Hondo too
I really miss the things that used to do
So last week I went out and bought me an old pickup truck
Now me and the kids spend Saturdays
We do fun things in a simple way
We love to start the day with a ride in the pickup truck
We make a run to the county dump
We always wave if we see someone
The kids love to make up a song as we roll along
To the post office without fail
We get some stamps and we check out the mail
And we never take the same road twice on the way back home
Half the fun's gettin' lost on the way back home

What a fun song!  Jerry Jeff sings this simple song about a simple event - riding in a pickup truck. While I don't own a pickup truck right now, I once did and have numerous memories of riding in pickup trucks growing up.  I'll bet you do too.

Being raised on a working farm, a pickup truck was a vital necessity almost as important as the tractor.  It was used for constant parts runs to the local John Deere shop, for pulling trailers, wagons, and implements, and as a repository for numerous tools, empty Dr. Pepper cans, and an occasional snapping turtle or two! And kids.  Why ride in the front when you can ride in the back and let the wind blow through your hair as you spit.  Well you could do that inside the truck if you rolled down the window.

Which makes me think that that is an out-dated term: "Rolling down the window." Do they even make vehicles where you have to manually roll them down or up?  I haven't seen one in a while. Even my stripped down Honda Civic has power windows.  Anyway, we'd roll down the window as we'd drive down country roads to the parish dump, taking our time and waving to people just like Jerry Jeff did!

We would ride with my paternal grandfather in his pickup truck, which he had converted to run on butane.  As we'd fill the tank, the familiar scent of butane would fill the air and we'd touch the ice that built up around the nozzle, even on the hottest of days.  When Grandpa drove, the actual road itself was optional.  We spent a lot of time driving on the shoulder or in the median.  We were always happy when we reached our destination!  One time, he backed his truck up to put his bass boat in the lake at Toledo Bend and backed into a truck door that someone had left open, ripping it off the hinges.  He never noticed and the gentleman had to find Grandpa out on the lake and tell him of the accident.

My maternal grandfather we called Poppy owned a 1972 Ford Bronco, with the gear shift on the steering column.  What a fun truck to drive!  We would drive out to the gravel pit in Indian Village west of town and pick out and cut down Christmas trees every year.  Actually it was two or three small trees tied together, just ordinary long leaf pines, but they'd look nice once decorated.  We'd haul the tree back to their home in the back of the small bed that the Bronco had and then we'd enjoy hot chocolate and sugar cookies.

When I was farming I had a pickup truck and in the fall of 2001, the transmission went out.  Actually the reverse band was burnt - the forward gears still worked, so I drove that thing for several months with no reverse.  It was a fun challenge to park in creative ways so as not to ever have to back up. Only a few times did I ever have to put it in neutral and get out and push!

Finally, just as Jerry Jeff sings, we would often sing as we drove in pickup trucks - either in the cab singing along with Ronnie Milsap, Don Williams, or Conway Twitty or in the back of the truck with a bunch of friends on the way to work in the rice fields singing the theme song to Rocky III by Survivor, entitled "The Eye of the Tiger".  We'd sing it to the top of our lungs: "It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight, rising up to the spirit of our rival..."  Singing always sounds better in the shower or from the back of a pickup truck.  Lots of things seem better just riding in a pickup truck.

Teaching Clarabelle to Lead with a Rope

In THIS POST we showed how we began the slow and arduous task of breaking Clarabelle.  Animals (and people) have strong wills.  Like our other animals, we want Clarabelle to lead easily with a rope and the best way to do that is to start when they are young.  That is when you can impose your will on them instead of vice versa!

These animals will grow to be easily five times your weight and will be able to drag you all over the pasture.  It is much easier to teach them good habits while they are young and manageable.  I liken it to the story of the elephant.  When the elephant is small, they place a rope around his foot that is anchored into the ground.  The young elephant tries and tries, but cannot break free. He sort of gives up and when he is older, even though he can probably break the chain that he's anchored to, he doesn't even try, because of what was instilled at that young age.  There's a lesson buried in there for parents somewhere, but we'll not go that direction today.

In the earlier post mentioned above, we recounted how we tie Clarabelle up each day to a tree or a fencepost for about an hour.  She pulls and pulls, trying to get loose, but it's to no avail.  She soon begins learning that she can't win in this tug-of-war contest and stops pulling.  At this point, she'll lead easily back to the barn when I put her up for the night.  Well, after doing that for a couple of weeks, it is time to take her for a walk.  It is not easy.  This is not a task for someone expecting great results overnight.  Here's what I usually get at first:

As Stubborn as they Come

I pull hard on the rope and she pulls hard back.  It first seems like a stalemate, but I'm not giving up. I'm still a little bigger than her, too!  I pull for a little while hard, just enough to where she remembers pulling against the tree or the fencepost.  She remembers that she's not going to win the tug-of-war, and then I give her some slack on the rope.

Let's rest a little bit, Clarabelle.

While there is slack in the rope, I rub her neck and speak gently to her, touching her belly, her legs and back.  In a little while she's beginning to equate slack in the rope with favorable, pleasant times and a taut rope as unfavorable, unpleasant times.  I never whip her or raise my voice to her.  I want her to attribute times walking with me as a good experience.  I give her praise when she walks.

In time she's walking a couple of rounds around our property, with pep in her step. Sometimes she even lifts her tail and wants to run out ahead of me, but I pull her back in.  I want to teach her that she is to follow me.  With each passing day, she's improving, and it is very rewarding to see progress being made.  The weather has cooled off somewhat in the late afternoons when we have our little strolls.  People wave as they drive by on the road and we wave back (or at least I do), as we watch the sun cast long shadows across the grass outside the fence.

Me & Clarabelle on a September Afternoon

With perseverance and hard work, Clarabelle's stubbornness is just a shadow of what it once was!

The Inglorious House Arrest of Big Boy

Big Boy is our Great Pyrenees Livestock Guardian Dog.  With a simple, descriptive name and a  3 word, six syllable job description, you would think that this was a match made in heaven.  Big Boy's price tag was right for us - he was FREE! (Red flag #1)  We learned that he had been shot many times because he liked to roam (Red flag #2) and neighboring farmers had peppered him numerous times with their shotguns.  The previous owner was worried that Big Boy's continued roaming and/or the farmers' improved marksmanship, would spell doom for Big Boy's chances at survival. That's where we stepped in and adopted him.  We needed a guardian dog to preside as Sergeant-at-Arms and keep our birds safe from predators.

We placed him in the pasture and Big Boy returned to his night patrols - jumping over the perimeter fence and roaming down our road.  I heard a neighbor shoot at him once.  I installed a higher fence on a portion of the pasture and placed Big Boy back in the pasture, only now tethered by a 30 foot heavy duty cable. Unfortunately, while the cable cured him of roaming, Big Boy developed an affinity for the taste of chicken and brutally massacred a few of the birds he was supposed to be protecting as they came into his radius of reach, becoming the proverbial fox guarding the hen house.

Bad Boy, Big Boy!  He was removed from the pasture at that point and positioned as a sentry on the outside of the fence, cabled now to the trampoline.  He has effectively done a long-range job of protecting the flock, and we have not lost a single bird to predators (or Big Boy) since.  He's treed a raccoon, barked incessantly at passersby and has "somewhat" earned his keep, I guess.  He spends most of his time digging enormous holes under the trampoline, and is of much enjoyment to visitors who laugh at his penchant for sitting or lounging on the trampoline.

The other day, after about a year of good time served, Big Boy sat before the parole board, which included me and Tricia, and with a unanimous vote, Big Boy was granted parole, with a probationary period.  Tricia led the ex-felon out to the pasture and followed him around as he patrolled the perimeter.  He even behaved himself around the chickens!  Unfortunately, leopards can't change their spots.  In the blink of an eye, Big Boy pounced on a big fat Aracauna hen and if Tricia hadn't been lightning fast, Big boy would have devoured that bird faster than poop goes through a goose.  The nervous hen, minus a few feathers, ran off clucking nervously, lucky to be alive.

Big Boy is once again incarcerated, proving that the recidivism rate is high among dogs, too.  I like my freedom and I like things to be free-range.  I wouldn't want to be tethered or caged and so Big Boy's house arrest due to his repeated parole violations is a constant source of angst for all of us. When it rains, we unclip him and bring him in the garage, where he lays around on the cool concrete, making us step over him and isn't productive at anything except stinking up the place with the pungent scent of "wet dog".  Tricia will put Big Boy on a leash and walk him around still, but when not in the closed garage on rainy days, he's on the trampoline, on his cable.

The other day I drove in, opened the garage, and Big Boy darted out of the garage. Did I mention that he doesn't come when called?  He's also called Bad Boy from time to time.  Well Bad Boy took off down the road.  I was on my way to the pasture and had no time to get a posse together to go get the escaped inmate.  I went on about my work and by and by noticed Big Boy furtively darting around the neighbors houses.  Then, with a guilty look on his face, he came lumbering back home, only being followed.

A neighbor drove slowly behind him on his gleaming Harley Davidson, shiny chrome blinding me in the sun.  As I grabbed Big Boy's collar, he pulled the rumbling bike nearby and said, "That your dog?"  I answered, "Yeah, he causing you problems?" To which he replied, "Well, he's not hurting us but I could sure do without him lifting his leg and peeing all over our stuff." (I cleaned up my neighbor's language somewhat.  This is a family blog.)  Ouch.  His "stuff" was no doubt the gleaming chrome Harley. Big Boy was marking the Harley as his territory and my neighbor wasn't going to release his claim on the asset to the beast.

Big Boy was returned to the penitentiary with the quickness due to his inability to learn a lesson.  I can't help but think of this very appropriate verse from Proverbs:

Proverbs 26:11 New American Standard Bible (NASB)

11 Like a dog that returns to its vomit
Is a fool who repeats his folly.

Learning to Like Beef Liver!

There are many foods that I had an aversion to when I was younger that I have completely changed my mind on and now absolutely love them - Brussels Sprouts, spinach, mustard greens, are a few that come to mind. There are some food items that I avoided as a kid, like mayonnaise, that I can actually eat in moderation now.

There are a few foods that I am desperately trying to like, but haven't been able to coax my taste buds into enjoying them yet.  Raw tomatoes is one of those things.  I fully realize that admitting to not liking to eat a homegrown tomato, freshly picked and sliced with salt and pepper is akin to a blasphemous or heretical statement.  I can devour raw tomatoes in Pico de Gallo and cooked tomatoes in any form, but sliced, raw tomatoes have not beholden themselves to my taste buds-Yet! But I'll keep trying.

Organ meats are a mixed bag with me.  Chicken livers are wonderful.  It is such a treat to have fresh chicken livers for supper, fried in butter in a cast iron skillet.  I love them.  Beef liver?  Well, that is another matter altogether - until last week.  As noted in THIS POST we butchered one of our grass-fed steers and have all the organ meats - one of those being beef liver.  We figured we'd give it a try and Tricia discovered THIS RECIPE: Beef Liver with Fig, Mushroom and Caramelized Onion Compote.  It came from a blog called the Healthy Foodie.  We'll walk through the steps and review at the end of the post. Here are the ingredients:

INGREDIENTS

• 375g beef liver, sliced
• The juice of 1 lemon
• 2 tsp arrowroot flour (we used regular AP flour)
• ½ tsp Himalayan salt (we used regular salt)
• ½ tsp freshly ground black pepper
• 4 slices smoked bacon, cut crosswise into ½" pieces (we omitted the bacon... GASP!)
• 2 large onions, sliced
• 200g mushrooms, sliced
• 4 dried figs, chopped
• ¼ tsp Himalayan salt (we used regular salt)
• ½ tsp freshly ground black pepper
• 2 sprigs fresh sage, chopped (no sage available)
• 2 tbsp white balsamic vinegar (we used apple cider vinegar)
• 1/4 cup water

Now, we altered the recipe to include only things we had on hand, making the substitutions shown above in parenthesis and also adding butter instead of bacon grease.  First, marinate the liver in the juice of a lemon for a day in the fridge, then while your skillet is heating up with butter, wash off the liver under running water and pat the liver dry.

Washing the beef liver.  Does not look appetizing - At All!

Mix the flour, salt and pepper in a bowl and dredge the liver in the flour//spice mixture until thoroughly coated.

Dredging with flour

When the skillet is really hot, add the liver to the sizzling butter and sear it for around a minute.  Note that the color of the beef liver is an unappealing drab grey.

Searing side 1

Then flip to the other side to allow a good sear on the reverse side.  This takes about a minute as well. You'll note that they turn a nice golden brown.

Searing side 2

Remove the liver to a covered plate to keep it warm.  Now go to work on making your caramelized onion & fig compote.  Over medium high heat, add more butter and add two large onions sliced to the skillet.  Allow them to cook down for a a bit.

Putting the onions on

After allowing the onions to caramelize for about 10 minutes, we added to the onions the mushrooms and then our own dried figs that we showed you that we made in THIS POST.  

Adding mushrooms and dried figs to the mix

Finally we added the apple cider vinegar and water, stir and cook for a minute or so until the liquid is evaporated.

Apple Cider Vinegar joins the party

Then we place the liver back into the skillet atop the onion, fig, and mushroom compote, allowing the liver to heat back up after its siesta in the plate.

The livers are re-introduced

We'll turn the heat off while the flavors mesh together and get cozy.  I spooned some of the onions, mushrooms, and figs on top of the beef liver so they could get to know each other better.

Ready to serve!

The review: It would be a misleading statement if I were to tell you that I didn't have some hesitation in eating it.  It was Beef Liver, after all, a dish that has a negative perception in my mind, for reasons unknown to me.  However, the color was right, the smell was good and the caramelized onions, mushrooms and figs beckoned me to give it a shot.

I placed a piece of the liver on my plate and heaped the onion, mushroom, and fig compote on top, thinking that the 'candy' would mask the underlying liver.  First bite: The liver was surprisingly tender.  I was expecting a texture similar to a shoe sole, but it was anything but.  I learned that it is very important not to overcook beef liver as it gets tough.  The onion, mushroom, and fig compote who played a supporting role, risked over-shadowing the lead actor with its delicious and sweet (thanks to the figs) taste.  A fork-full of liver and the compote was a match made in heaven, though, complimenting one another.  This was a hit at our house.  Two thumbs up from Tricia and I with an abstaining vote from Benjamin (Ha!)  Russ loved it too and actually brought all the leftovers back to college with him along with a package of liver for him to cook while at college.

Not only is beef liver good, but it is good for you!  Here's what the Weston A. Price Foundation says about it:

So what makes liver so wonderful? Quite simply, it contains more nutrients, gram for gram, than any other food. In summary, liver provides:

• An excellent source of high-quality protein
• Nature’s most concentrated source of vitamin A
• All the B vitamins in abundance, particularly vitamin B12
• One of our best sources of folic acid
• A highly usable form of iron
• Trace elements such as copper, zinc and chromium; liver is our best source of copper
• An unidentified anti-fatigue factor
• CoQ10, a nutrient that is especially important for cardio-vascular function
• A good source of purines, nitrogen-containing compounds that serve as precursors for DNA and RNA.

We approve of this dish and will make it often.  I can honestly say I now like beef liver!  Perhaps next summer I'll be able to say the same for homegrown tomatoes???