Monday Musings.

My favorite Fall tree, across the road.

Okay, it's really just a way to blog on Monday without having to tie all my untamed thoughts into a theme.  Wait.  Monday Musings IS a theme.  Never mind.  I was going to join in on "Wordless Wednesday", but I am never wordless.

When did "Old Fashioned" fall out of fashion, to be replaced by "Retro", or "Vintage", or "Antique"?  And when did Antique go from meaning 100+ years old, to "before 1940"?

Sneezing.  My cats sneeze, my dogs sneeze and, once in a while, a chicken sneezes.  I've even heard my sheep sneeze a time or two.  But, does it count as sneezing when one doesn't have a nose?  I mean, chickens don't really have a nose.  They have a nose/mouth combination.  Is that still sneezing?  I know that turtles yawn (although, apparently, tortoises do not find yawning contagious.  They just yawn when they mean it.  Really - there was a study done on it.)

Which brings me to -- who's bright idea was it to fund a study on whether tortoises are subject to contagious yawning?  Why should we care?  Do the tortoises care?  I would imagine they (the tortoises) found it highly annoying to have some scientist following their every move, their every facial expression (do they have those -- wait!  Let's not give 'them' any ideas for yet another study.)

Why am I still shocked to see that I am not 30 when I look in the mirror?  Will I ever get over it?  Should there be an in-depth study funded by Harvard to find out?

Oh, my inquiring mind....

******

A few things got checked off The Lists this weekend, although not enough to satisfy me.  I missed an opportunity to scavenge Melanie's apple trees - your voicemail message from yesterday JUST reached me at noon.  Where had it been?  Is there a voicemail purgatory?  Must be. 

Gettin' Ready to Rumble!

Are you all sitting down?  The forecast for the "WEEKEND" (yes, both days) is for bright sunshine and balmy temps!  Lawsy, I hope I didn't just jinx myself by putting it out there...  so, given that I got almost nothing done on The Lists last weekend, this is going to be a multiple-list-eggstravaganza.

And speaking of eggs, gak.  Yesterday, a mild, brightly sunny day, garnered zero eggs.  Nada.  Nuthin.  No eggs, no how.  It's got me stumped.  Even my Barnevelder girls, who are youngsters and who are NOT moulting, are not laying.  The only egg I get almost every day is a duck egg.  Well, thank goodness for that.

Yesterday, Kevin Ford came out and sheared the lambs.  I tell you, they were tiny before losing their fleece.  Now they look like a miniature breed.  Except for Linden, who is at the right level for his age/breed.  Acacia is getting back to her noisy, feisty self.  She has learned that she needs to trot right up to the gate in the morning, so I can let her out onto the grass.  As soon as she hears the grain can rattling, she trots off to her own little feed dish.  What a cutie.  And what a relief.  The adult ewes still need to be wormed, but I am making headway.

My plans to get hay this weekend were squelched by a family wedding (the farmer's, not mine) on Saturday and his need to chop corn on Sunday.  He was nice enough to offer to give me hay if I run out before next weekend.  Which I will.  This lull will give me the opportunity to clean out the barn so I can stack the 100 bales without worrying that the little piranhas goats will be able to reach it.  I am also going to see if I can disassemble the lattice house frame (thank goodness I screw everything together) so I can move it and use it as winter shelter for the sheep, with a few alterations.  It's time to move them into a new area so that the old, over-used one has time to recover.  Once I move them, I am going to seed it before winter.  Or so it says on my "Outdoor/Animal" list.  My lists have big ideas.

I've moved the electronet so that the sheep can have some grass, but it will entail some fancy footwork and creative electrical work (neither of which is my forte).  Hey, Apple Pie Gal - ZZZZZZt!  Kidding, I hope.  Because of the way I had to set up the charger to keep the top wire hot, I can't move it.  And because of my elaborate (read: wacky) gate system, I have to put the connecting end of the fencing on the other/opposite side of the gate.  That means I will have to rig up a long connecting wire from the fence to the charger over/across the gate opening using wire, baling twine and plastic tubing.  Since I know that Hoosier is capable of doing the limbo, he will just have to work his way under the wire.  This should be interesting.  But, he's a smart cookie and he loves his grass.

The Babes (surprise chicks) will be integrated into the main coop this weekend.  That will give me one less step in the mornings/evenings.  Then, the small coop will be closed up for the winter, unless I decide to banish the ducks to the small coop.  I am thinking about it.

Much needs to be done in the garden.  Lucy needs to be interred somewhere where the foxes, coyotes and stray dogs won't find her.  There is an over-abundance of llama beans that need shoveling and spreading.  The strawberries need to be given a haircut and mulched. 

I am thinking that I need a partner in all this.  Here are the qualifications:  Must be older than me; must be good with his hands in practical ways (electrical/plumbing/carpentry); must love animals in all sizes and shapes; must be retired and not indigent; must like to cook; must not spend all his time on his dusty-buster; must have a sense of humor; must have the patience of Job; must be a good kisser.  So, if anyone out there is either this person or knows someone who fits this bill, send 'em on down!  While I'm waiting, I think I will tackle my lists.

p.s.  I am going to celebrate either my 20,000th page view or my 300th posting (how I DO go on!) - whichever comes first - with a very special giveaway.  Stay tuned.

What?! You don't have one?

You can't really say you're a country dweller until you are sporting a baited mousetrap on the passenger side floor of your car.  INSIDE the car, doncha know.  I was going to take a picture of it but, thanks to the guts being pulled out of my fan assembly, there was no heat.  It was below 30 degrees this morning.  My fingers would not function. 

Yes, in the ongoing battle of Susan v. Mice, it's Mice 2 and Susan 1.  I seriously think they have enhanced night vision and, as soon as I've parked my car in the driveway and gone into the house, plans are pulled out, building material gathered, and a small unit of mice invades my car.  There, they build frantically, until every nook, cranny and filter is occupied.

Last Monday, I took the car in for an oil change and mouse-cleaning-out.  I had just had work done under the dashboard from a prior mouse attack less than a week before.  This time, my long-suffering mechanic opened the hood and did a thorough scan of all the places they could get in.  He finally found a plastic barrier that they had chewed through.  So, he reinforced it with wire mesh and told me to put baited mousetraps in the car, just in case there were still mice in residence.  That instilled me with confidence.  I could read the headlines now, "12 Car Pile-Up Caused by Erratic Driving by Hysterical Woman".  It would continue, "local nut-job claims that six mice ran across her feet while she was driving, causing her to channel a medley of 'Smoky and the Bandit' reruns in rapid succession."

So, the mousetrap will stay until Friday.  Then I hope to have the inside of my dashboard, with all it's mysterious "filters", nuts and bolts reassembled so I can get heat without the fear of rodent flambe.

Lucy. 2004-2011

A Poem for Lucy

You arrived a ball of fluff

so indiscernible from the soft peeping mass

But not for long, my cheeky girl.

A red-feathered beauty with a soft spot for me

And for you, the same place in my heart

Still there, sweet Lucy, after all these years.

What I am learning about being Gluten-Free.

I would have to say that the most important thing I've learned is that (gasp) I can live without bread.  There, I've said it.  It's been viewed.  That doesn't mean that I don't really, really miss bread.  What I've also learned is that - so far - it's no problem to go without gluten-free bread.  I have not met one piece, rendition, loaf, slice, crumb or otherwise of GF bread that I can choke down.  Of course, I have just begun this journey so there is still hope that I may find a stand-in.

Another plus side to this (besides feeling better) is that I've lost weight.  I was really surprised at how many things I ate that contained gluten.  This means that the usual snack suspects were no longer on the Good To Eat List.  I am not counting Cape Cod Potato Chips here because those have become an obsession.  Those are on my Don't You Dare Eat List.  The one meal where I feel the loss of gluten most of all is breakfast.  Muffins, coffeecake, toast, scones, sigh.

So, as the saying goes around the farm, I just pulled on my Big Girl Pants and got creative.  This has had some added benefits - I am using grains and flours I've never tried before; some I've never heard of.  Sorghum flour?  Wha?  Guar gum?  er...  There is a wealth of information on the Internet at my fingertips and lots of others have paved the path towards tolerable - yes, even delicious - gluten-free food.  My biggest excitement in the breakfast arena has been rediscovering a food of my childhood.  Fried Mush.  Oooh.  Doesn't that just sound delish?  I was born and raised my first few years in Newport News, Virginia.  Both my parents had been in the Navy and my dad had finished his degree in mechanical engineering in Ohio.  Looking for work, he ended up finding a job at the shipyards in Newport News.  So, in my formative years, I was exposed to hush puppies, spoon bread, mush, and being referred to as "A Mess".  That was a big compliment back then and down there - and, although I can still be referred to as a mess on many occasions, I continue to view it as a positive comment about myself.

Back to topic.  My mother was and is a stellar cook.  My dad was exclusively the Grill Man.  But he also had some 'specialities d' Papa'.  One was fudge and the other was fried mush.  Basically, fried mush is plain speak for sauteed polenta.  I prefer fried mush - it's not pretentious.  It's a Mess.   Sorry, I couldn't help myself.  To make a mess of mush, one simply stirs cornmeal into boiling water with a little salt, stirs it until it's thick, lets it cook for a while, then takes it off the heat.  A quick smear of butter in a loaf pan, pour in the mush, let it cool, then put it in the fridge overnight.  In the morning, slice and fry in butter until slightly crispy around the edges.  Serve with maple syrup.  MmmMmm.  It goes wonderfully with a couple of eggs and bacon.  Or just all by its lonesome in a small pool of real maple syrup.  Mush has given me back Breakfast.

Because Jane wanted it.

There are no photographs with this posting - it came out of the oven, cooled slightly and was devoured.  I could show you a picture of me, sitting at table with my tiny sliver of cake, a bright halo above my head.  But that would be pure fantasy!  Reality would be a slightly pouty me, fork in hand, then the sound of the Hoover!

This recipe was from my latest issue of Taste of Home magazine.  I adapted it to suit my ADD:

French Apple Cake
8 servings (oh, sure, right)

1/2 C. brown sugar
4 T. butter
3 C. apple slices (I used 3 large apples, peeled, cored and sliced into 1/2" slices)
lemon juice
3 eggs
3/4 C. granulated sugar
1 C. flour
1 C. butter, melted
4 oz. cream cheese

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Prepare apple slices and toss with lemon juice in a bowl.  In a large mixing bowl, beat the eggs with the granulated sugar until light.  Add butter and cream cheese and mix well.  Stir in flour and mix until smooth.

*Put 4T. of butter into the bottom of a 10" springform pan and put into the oven to melt.  When melted, sprinkle with brown sugar and put into oven for 10 mins., or until it starts to get oozy.  Remove pan from the oven and place apple slices in the bottom of the pan.  Spread batter over top and smooth.  Bake for 35 minutes.  Let cool slightly, run a knife around the edge to loosen, if necessary, and invert onto a serving dish.  I would highy recommend doing this last step over a sink, not your stovetop.  Nuff said.  Serve warm.

If you click on the link, you'll see a picture of this confection that shows it being served with whipped cream.  I think that's gilding the lily myself...

So, Jane, whip out that Little Dutch Maid and make this cake! 

*The original recipe calls for you to make your own caramel, which means staring at your pan for a loooong time, thinking that you are seeing 'amber' every two minutes.  Pick your poison, so to speak ;o)

Monday Monday.

After a full, sloshy, slimy, boggy, soggy, mucky, yucky weekend, I did end up with just enough time to fire off another potholder.  Unfortunately, I had neither the energy or interest to do so.  I am holding at 6.  I had discovered on Friday that Acacia, the little runty lamb, had very poor body condition - she was very thin and not thriving.  Although it's easy to miss this, given the amount of wool on their little bodies, I fault myself for not checking on a weekly basis to make sure ALL of them are doing well.  This caused me to toss and turn all night long under a hot and hairy layer of guilt.  Saturday morning, while it was just 'misting' and just before the day-long deluge started, I picked Acacia up, wormed her and put her in the goat's area with lots of grass.  Then I had to keep the goats in the barn, since Chicky does not know the meaning of the word "share". 

But, what to do about shelter without access to the barn and a weekend long monsoon forecast? I had inherited a good-sized dog house from my neighbor (a builder) and he had very nicely dropped it at the top of my driveway.  I swear to God, this thing weighed 400 lbs!  It had started raining pretty steadily and Acacia only had trees for shelter.  So, I put on my big girl pants (and big girl rain gear).  I had to move it.  It took over 20 minutes of wet rassling and lots of limited vocabulary words, but I got it inside the fence, put hay and feed in it, and she popped right in, happy as a nice damp clam.  After wrestling with that bad boy, I decided that, should I ever decide to build a house, my neighbor has the job.

Then I zipped off to the Farmers Market - where a few hearty souls stood under pooling tents - and got mums for my mum and me; a big bag of mixed mushrooms (thank you Linda - dripping with sarcasm here - for introducing me to these); a Savoy cabbage the size of a bowling ball - so perfect it almost brought tears to my eyes - for $2; and assorted other vegetables.  Then I zipped back to the apple orchard where I picked my own - out of bushels in their dry store and NOT from the orchard; then to the feed store; gasoline; home.  Then I realized my pork roast was just too puny and put in an emergency call to Marianne, who had a lovely roast - at home and not at the market.  I managed to clean the house, clean the cats' room (whispering this so that all cats reading who do not have their own room won't be jealous), washed dishes, and did a major tidying up, before I raced north to meet Marianne at her house to pick up the roast, then zoomed home to beat my parents up the driveway.  After that, I just gave up, as I really can't do much while they're here.  It was a thoroughly enjoyable visit, with a boisterous firehouse breakfast (the food was just as bad as I remember), some Glenn Miller on the CD player, much cooking and moving around of sheep, lambs and goats, then a lovely dinner with my parents and my neighbors.  There is something so nice and heartwarming about a table set with cloth, flowers and good china, surrounded by people who like each other, are nice and fun, full of good chatter.  And the food - it was good.  I had convinced myself that I would not have any of the French apple cake, since it contained flour.  That resolve disappeared as soon as it was flipped over on its serving plate, all hot, caramel-y, apple-y.  I did, virtuous me, have a very small piece.

Kay brought over her personal trainer (aka Gideon, the Sheltie puppy) to meet everyone.  Scrappy and Bernie were not pleased, so they stayed inside.  We were all entranced by how smart he is.  At least there were glimpses of blue sky yesterday.  There are two more days of showers and rain, then the forecast is much better.  I sure hope so, because I need to get 100 bales of hay this weekend.  Which reminds me.  I am going to have to butter up the farmer - I need him and his truck to get it.  Maybe a lemon meringue pie?