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Hither, if you want to keep reading. Aspiring to Simplicity has moved! :)

New Home

Ok; it's still a work in progress, but I'm building a new home.

What do you think?

Look for me there, in the future. :)

No Guts

That would be me.

Are you surprised? A lot of people seem to be, when I admit what a total wimp I am in one unlikely area.

Generally speaking, I love a good debate. I will debate organic vs. conventional agriculture, the wisdom and sustainability of petroleum-based farming (though I'm not a peak-oil type), the proper diet for cattle and ultimately, people. I will go toe-to-toe (partly in an effort to learn) with an honest vegan, and talk about the fascinating opportunities for symbiotic farming, where cattle + chickens = lush pasture. I've seen it done, I've read all the books, I've journaled my plans...

But I haven't done it yet. Not really; not enough. I might believe things, I might know things, but I don't have the resumé to prove that I've put it to the test.

Stand me out in my weedy field, with the unfinished irrigation efforts and bring a farmer. Someone with boots and a hat. Have him ask me if he could lease my field...

I have about as much conviction as a bowl of Red #40 jello. I mumble plans about a rotational grazing plan with daily paddock moves.. our new 3hp pump which we haven't had a chance to really put to use yet..

He says things like, "needs to be farmed," and "need at least 25 hp pump to irrigate that," and "are your steers vaccinated?"

I nod and smile and do my best to be non-confrontational. And I sound like an idiot. "Twenty-five horse? Wow, someone told me..." "No, we haven't vaccinated our steers yet."

He has the tractors, implements, pipe.. He wants pasture or hay field. Why can't I just speak my heart? I could write  my heart, but good ol' farmers have cell phones, NOT email. Maybe I should print a pamphlet. "Sir, I would love nothing more for this field to be farmed. I want to do some of that myself, but obviously it's a lot to manage, and I'm not sure how I'm going to do it. However, I have some pretty deep convictions that aren't very popular around here, and that might be a deal-breaker for you. See, this land hasn't had chemical treatments (fertilizers or -cides) in at least 20 years. I don't want that to change. I'm interested in increasing forage and soil fertility through the use of rotational grazing, diversified species, things like that. I worm my cattle with Basic H, NOT ivomectrin. If this sounds like something that could work for you, that you're interested in talking about, we might be able to work together. But these are things I can't compromise on."

See? That flows from my keyboard without a hitch. But in person it sounds like, "uh, um, yeah, well, maybe, I'll think about it." With such a glaring lack of real-life experience, how can I say that to someone whose expertise is in this area? Too, what kind of a person could just say to a new acquaintance, "I just don't believe in doing things the way you do." [to be fair, he didn't mention fertilizer or pesticides, though others have]

There must be a happy medium, where I could state my boundaries without feeling like I'm attacking the personhood of the listener.

Seriously, I disgust myself.

Maybe I could write him a letter.

Granny's Treasures II

This is another treasure I found at Granny's. It's an old cigar box (and yes, that's my new old table it's on).

When it's opened, it still has (I assume) the original pricetag and brand label. I just love the vintage art. Do you suppose that girl represents the '40s? Was it 'vintage art' when it was made, or do you think this was a modern look? I don't know how old the box is, really. 

It held another treasure inside though. A little old American flag.

You can tell it's old, because Alaska and Hawaii don't have stars on it. :) We have a large one like this that Gigi flew on our house every flag-related holiday when I was younger.

I think I like "things" too much. I would have a very hard time parting with things like this. Partly because they were from Granny's, so remind me of her; partly because they're fairly 'irreplaceable' and feel like a link to a history of which I wish I knew more. I need to think up some good, practical uses for these things to justify keeping them. :)

His Goodness 3

Read Part 1 here.  And Part 2 here.

It had been 5 or 6 years since the motorcycle was sold away. Grandpa passed away in the fall of 2008, his estate going the way of the bike. :]  Last fall, September 29 I think, we were on the way to Hubby's folks' to borrow their truck for a trip that required a trailer hitch. Going along a residential street in the dark, Hubby hit the brakes momentarily and said, "did you see that???" 

"See what?" 

"That motorcycle back there? I think it was a Goldwing like your Grandpa's!"

"What, really? Go back!" We backed up in the rain, and Hubby peered through the windshield.

"I don't believe it. It IS your grandpa's bike." He pointed out the fog lamp, the horns exactly where he'd placed them. I jumped out to go write down the for-sale information (it was for sale!) and about passed out cold on the guy's driveway. He wanted $3100 for it. THAT wasn't going to happen, and was it really the same motorcycle? It was pretty dark, after all.

We were also getting ready to leave town for a week, so who knew what would happen in the meantime? Hubby wondered if I would be on board with a purchase like that (if the price could be negotiated WAY down).. I asked if he would be on board with selling his Kawi to finance the purchase. He was. We left it in God's hands, trusting that if we were meant to have it, we would.

We left town and talked about it more than once. We told Gi-gi about it, and my uncle. When we came back to town, I saw it listed on craigslist for $2900. The guy was flexible, apparently. I called and asked about it. He went on and on... "It's a classic. The original Goldwing. It's been garaged its whole life. Original  paint." We arranged to go see it that evening, and I printed out blue book information and such. That wasn't much help; some claimed a $900 trade-in value; ebay had listings for $10,000. It was obviously a borderline collector's item. I raided my 'barn stash' and prayed. I withdrew a certain amount (far less than either of his asking prices), trusting that IF we were supposed to have it, it would be at that price or less. It was still a lot of money.

On the way there, I arranged some 'code' for Hubby and I. While I wanted to shout, "I think this is my grandpa's motorcycle which was promised to us!" I'd been advised to hold my cards close. I would ask Hubby, "Is it everything you expected?" And if he was 100% certain about it being THE bike, he'd say "yeah." Otherwise, "I'm not sure." 

We were quite a team, actually. Hubby did all the looking, checking; I held my clipboard and waited for my turn. The guy started again on his speel (he is a local public educator) "this is the first year they made Goldwings," and was surprised when my husband eventually asked if it still had the removable kick-starter. 

[When grandpa retrieved the bike from us, the kick-starter had been removed and put somewhere. Hubby returned it to him that summer, but it never made it back to its place. Hubby ran across it in Gramps' garage after he passed away. He didn't save it, sadly.]

"Oh this has an electric starter, no kick starter." Hubby leaned over the bike and pointed to some little hole. 

"Yeah, but no one trusted electric starters so they had the kick start option. The kick-starter is stored in the console, and you can put it in here."

This lessened the wind in the seller's sails. "Oh... I guess you know a little more about this bike than I do!"

[You have no idea...]

I asked Hubby our predetermined question, and he responded in the affirmative.

The seller repeated the line about it being 'in the garage' its whole life.

[Except for the time when we had to cut a tree out of the front forks...]

"Have YOU owned it its entire life?" <-- that was me.

"No, uh, but you can tell. I've had it a couple years. [Title said 1 year]. Original paint, blah blah blah." He spoke of adding on the fairing [You did not. My grandpa put that on when he first got it.]

It did have some fabric saddlebags and a tall bag behind the sissy bar that were new to us. He kept talking about how valuable those additions were. We really only wanted to take home the bike.

After Hubby did the looking-over part, I stepped forward in all my nerdy, clipboard-carrying glory. We started the negotiating, both of us pointing out different reasons for value, or not. He would come down a bit, and I would creep up a tinier bit. Eventually I landed on my high-end number, while he made dagger-to-the-heart motions and tried to get choked up. We had removed the saddle baggage [ah, now it looks right] and he agreed to the price. 

I was so excited. 

I don't even ride motorcycles.

But it felt like a promise fulfilled; not by the faulty, fallen people (person) who made it, but by my Father, God, who sees and knows. And does not forget. 

Home, where it belongs. 

Epilogue:

Eventually Hubby told me about finding the kick-starter in Gramps' garage, but tossing it. The old weld Grandpa had put on the rear rack was still in need of repair (the saddlebag straps had hidden it for a time), but someone had replaced the windshield part of the fairing. I shared this story of God's goodness everywhere, even the DMV when I got the title work done. I asked the lady a few things, and she confirmed that the bike had been held 30 years by my grandpa, briefly by my cousin, then it transferred to someone in Town before going to the educator who sold it to us. Hubby has already done something to it (carburetor stuff?) and a few other plans. We plan to sell the Kawi this spring to rebuild the barn fund. :) 

His Goodness 2

Read Part 1 here.

We waited... And patiently waited. We didn't want to seem greedy, so I never asked Gramps directly about it, though we talked about it often. Several months later, while visiting Gigi, Hubby decided to go visit Gramps on his own, and find out about the bike. 

He came back some time later looking like he had been gut-punched, or was about to be sick. "What happened?" I asked...

Gramps had sold the bike to his nephew. "No.... He wouldn't do that. He promised it to us!" I felt completely used. I'd been willing to let my husband spend all winter in the garage... and now that was all lost to us. Would my cousin (once removed) sell it to us if he knew the story? If he knew Hubby had done all the fixing up? Gramps' story to Hubby was that his nephew "made an offer I couldn't refuse" so we didn't have much hope of getting it, if that was the case. I made a long-distance call from Gigi's to my uncle, to tell him what Grandpa had done, and ask him what he thought we could do.

He had known of the sale, but had no idea we hadn't signed off on it. He thought we'd been consulted. He called his cousin to see what the status might be of the bike's salability, and we got further bad news.  Our cousin claimed to never really want it (he already had a motorcycle or three that he liked), so sold it shortly after buying it. The bike was long gone.

The only information we had was that he'd sold it to "Some Guy" in the Town near us, where I do my shopping and errands.

 To soften the blow, my uncle (who often buys and sells myriad motorcycles) offered to sell us at a good price (still 4 times the Goldwing, but we had saved up...) an '89 Kawasaki Police Special. It had a BIG cushy seat, though they'd removed the police radio, sirens and flashing lights (darnit). He rode it several hundred miles to deliver it to us, and Hubby had his road bike, if not the one he'd put his heart into. 

It was a NICE bike too (so I hear). Sturdy side and rear boxes for hauling things, a smooth ride, and EVERYONE always drove super-carefully when he was in the vicinity.. :) It wasn't the Goldwing, but it was a better bike in all ways but sentimentality. Grandpa's Goldwing was relegated to the halls of memory.

But God has access to those halls too...

To be continued...

His Goodness 1

All my good stories start out with "once upon a time..." This one is no different, I suppose. :) Once upon a time, before I was born, my grandpa bought a brand-new motorcycle. It was the original Honda Goldwing, which set the bar (defined a new genre?) for all forthcoming "touring" motorcycles. It was 1975, and it came in two colors: cherry and teal. He got the teal one.

He and Gigi toured all over the place. Roadtrips to visit relatives, scenic trips to the mountains or coast, camping or bunking with others... One night the fog was so thick they couldn't see any of the freeway except for the white line along the shoulder. They inadvertently took a rural exit, and didn't realize that until they were very lost! 

Fast forward to 2005/6ish. Grandpa had divorced Gigi more than 15 years before, and was living five blocks away from her. His subsequent wife had passed away, and that same Goldwing that he gave my brother and I rides on was rotting away in his backyard. It was leaning (lying?) over and a large shrub or small tree had grown up through the front forks. It hadn't run in ages, but Hubby laid eyes on it one afternoon when we were visiting, and he and Gramps made a deal.

Hubby would come back with his pickup one day and carry the bike 2 hours to our place where he would work on it over the winter and try to get it running again. Gramps would pay for the parts and supplies, and would then take one more ride on it, to say goodbye. When he was ready, he would sell it back to us for the total price of all the parts. He would win; getting a beautiful old bike roadworthy again, getting to take one last ride if his replaced hip held out, and we would win; getting a chance at a lovely motorcycle (which Hubby wanted so dearly), an 'heirloom' of sorts, and at a great price.

Well, that winter Hubby worked on it. I kept Gramps supplied with letters and updates, and he'd send $100 checks so we could pay for the next needed part. Hubby changed out fork seals and cleaned out the old gas and replaced wires and tubes and parts and things I don't understand at all. He added the horns that Gramps had never installed, and left the 'fog lamp' - what was actually an old aircraft landing light - where Gramps had put it on the fairing.

Spring came, and the bike was running. Hubby 'test drove' it to work and back several times, and soon Gramps - and my uncle and some others - came to retrieve it. We watched with bated breath while Gramps got on and rode out the driveway alongside my uncle. "Well, now we wait!" we thought. My uncle intimated that he'd be surprised if Gramps could ride it at all, let alone all the way home, and that we should expect to hear from him soon. We'd saved up some money...

To be continued...

Two Dinners

Sometimes it's amazing for me to realize I've been on this food "journey" for almost six years. I know this because Amazon.com tells me I ordered all of Joel Salatin's "how to" farming books on September 8, 2006. I built my first chicken house around that time, and our first 'animal' - turkeys - were raised and processed that year, from spring until fall. I also got some pigs (and transported them long-distance in my Camry's trunk. Good times) that November.

Sometimes I don't realize all the changes we've made until I think back to something, or run into the "Standard American" meal in some fashion. This actually greatly encourages me (and I hope, you!). What once was a conscious decision, sometimes a sacrifice, is now not even thought of.

Here is an example of a common meal, in two formats. It's the same meal, but it's completely different food.  The menu? Tacos!

Rainbow Salsa?

Around here (and this isn't necessarily 'authentic' Mexican food, but what seems to be fairly normal) it will look like this:

Hamburger, seasoned with 'taco seasoning'
Refried beans
Corn tortillas, semi-fried (and/or flour tortillas)
Lettuce, shredded
Cheese, grated
Olives, sliced
Salsa
Sour Cream
Guacamole?

This meal can go two ways. The first is probably more convenient: You get standard ground beef from the store (a high-risk e.coli product from cattle in toxic environments eating corn, soy, chicken feathers/guts, and antibiotics, with a hormone implant) and brown it with a packet of taco seasoning (which includes "modified food starch" and MSG). You warm up canned refried beans (which include 'yeast extract' - which is another name for MSG). You fry your corn tortillas (made from genetically-modified corn, being linked to fertility problems, allergies, organ damage, plus environmental toxicity) in vegetable oil (made from canola, corn, soy, and/or cottonseed oil - every one of which are genetically modified and HIGHLY refined using chemical solvents/deodorizers/etc). Your iceberg head lettuce doesn't offer much in nutrition; whether or not any pesticide residue outweighs its nutrients is debatable. Does anyone wash iceberg lettuce? You sprinkle on the cheese (probably made from cows injected daily with a genetically-modified hormone, rBST to up milk production. It also ups mastitis infections and bacteria/pus in the milk, and shortens the cow's lifespan. If your cheese is pre-grated, it may have sand, starch, and/or mold inhibitors to keep it loose in the bag, and 'fresh.' (?) ) and sour cream (ditto on the rBST issue, and possibly 'thickened' with starch or carageenan). Your olives and salsa are probably canned, and your guacamole might be pre-made in a little plastic container (which I shockingly know very little about) or perhaps you bought avocados and stirred in a little packet of 'seasoning' (see the above commentary on taco seasoning).

This is normal food, believe it or not. Most people consider this 'healthy, homemade' food, not junk or fast food (I did, at one point). We do this day after day, punctuated by learning problems, behavioral challenges, visits to our doctor and routine pharmaceutical helps. [Note; of course not ALL problems can be laid at the feet of what we eat. However, after seeing astonishing changes in our own family based on a shift in diet, I believe it plays a part.]

The good news is that you don't have to pummel your body and your brain with this kind of stuff all day every day. And you can STILL have tacos! :) You just have to come at it a little differently.

You brown your grass-fed beef (which was probably produced not far from your home, includes only ONE set of bovine dna (hehe), has less bacteria, no hormone implants, no antibiotics, and has a lot higher ratio of Omega-3 fats to Omega-6. This is heart-healthy stuff!) with a powdered spice mix (we use Oregon Spice Taco Seasoning, but you can make your own or just check labels when you buy). You toss a ziploc of frozen pinto beans (which you prepared in bulk weeks or months before, soaking 24 hours before cooking to increase mineral availability and improve digestibility) into a pan and cook them down with some extra virgin olive oil and salt and seasoning to taste. You fry your organic corn tortillas (no GMOs allowed in organic products. Periodic testing helps ensure this, though cross-pollination is an issue) in virgin coconut oil (super high in medium-chain fatty acids which are anti-microbial, anti-viral, and increase metabolism in some people. Lauric acid is one of these, which human milk is high in). You use organic romaine lettuce or microgreens or young spinach to add a bit of crunch, and sprinkle on raw cheddar cheese (or perhaps a grass-fed cheese, or at the least a brand that informs "made with milk from cows not treated with rBST). Your sour cream IS cultured (soured) cream and therefore includes beneficial probiotics. Your olives and salsa are as close to 'real food' as you can get (nothing weird in the ingredients) and maybe you even make your own fresh salsa. You mash up a fresh avocado with actual spices, and maybe toss in a little lemon or lime juice to help keep it green.

Not exactly the spice mix for taco seasoning...

Do you see how same - and yet how different - this is? I don't even think about it until we're at a restaurant and I realize that seasoning tastes different, or the guacamole is weird. I didn't go into how it's prepared, but there can be differences there too. Teflon? Aluminum? I don't think teflon is very common in restaurants, but my local restaurant supply sells giant aluminum stock pots, pans, and baking sheets (I actually have baking sheets from them, but I line them with parchment paper or a SILPAT mat for cooking or baking on them). These things can be dangerous in the wrong conditions (teflon at high heat, for instance), and while not technically 'food' or 'additives,' certainly can have an effect on health.

What changes have you made to ensure you're eating what you think you're eating? If you take it one step at a time, what is your next step? Have you been able to keep the changes you've made so far?

Granny's Treasures I

You may remember my Granny passed away last June, at 93. I was asked for a 'list' of anything (not already assigned/taken) that would be precious to me, and in October we were able to bring things home. 

These were high on my list. I'm not even sure what I would call them. They're small bowl-things**. The small round ones are mostly in the pastel colors you see, and some are shorter and wider than others, which have a more tapered bottom. There are also a few oval-shaped bowls, including the green one you see here.

There is also a 'normal' green bowl Granny used to serve me her little homemade pot-pies in. Yum..

They all have a nicely embossed floral motif, and I use them for everything. Small servings of goodies for the kids, a place to put my tea bell, spoon rest, even as lunch or dinner servings (in the oval ones).

Granny used to put my little pot pie under the broiler to brown up the crust. They're oven-safe, but I haven't put them in my oven yet. Maybe I could make little cupcakes? :)

I believe there are 5 oval dishes (2 green, 2 pink, and a blue) and about half a dozen or so of the small ones (no green among them). There are also some small brown ones, in both the wide and tapered styles:

They have the most beautiful robin's-egg-blue on the inside. The photo doesn't look quite as brilliant as they seem in real life. :)

A friend of mine thinks these dishes and others like them (Granny also had some smallish bowls that had a handle, almost like a measuring cup, but in the same color/material as the pastel ones above) came in  Quaker oatmeal. Much better than what they put in cereal boxes today, do you think? :)

This site says they were made from the early 1930s to the mid 1940s. If you click to the 'page 6' link on their page, their is a neat ad for some of the (purchased; not oatmeal-prize) products.

**A little research is calling these wider ones "custard" bowls, and the tapered ones "ramekins."

WHAT??

Dealing in my RealFood Underground, as I call it, I often end up with boxes... Boxes with potatoes, or apples, beef, etc -- and most of the boxes are reused from the original manufacturer. I had this on the counter, full of apples, for a day, and then I noticed the label:

Aw, so wholesome.

"Wholesome Farms." Don't you love that? And look at that beautiful picture of a farmstead with the sun rising (setting?) in glory, it just screams "Nature!"  Wholesome nature, at that. Ah, bliss...

But wait...

Oh my...!

What is this fresh crop from "Wholesome Farms?" Liquid Whole Eggs. That's enough right now to make my decision. Liquid whole eggs? Don't whole eggs include the shell? How do we liquify the shell? Hmm..  Oh, I know! Citric acid! Bingo. Yummier and yummier, yes?

But we aren't done with this "Wholesome" bounty yet - we're gonna pasteurize (cook? irradiate?) these dissolved-shell-liquified-eggs AND homogenize them - after all, we don't want dissolved shell sinking to the bottom, or yolk forming a top layer... ew, no, THAT would be gross... (?)

For a final dose of "wholesomeness," look at the packaging information... This.. crop.. comes in BAGS. I don't know about you, but nothing says "wholesome" and "farm" like something packaged in a plastic bag [and liquified, pasteurized, homogenized, dissolved]!

Would you eat this product? DO you eat this product? (I have no idea what is done with it. Scrambled eggs schools? Omelets at restaurants? Maybe used in baked goods?) Would you eat other 'wholesome' foodstuffs "dissolved, liquified, pasteurized, homogenized, packed-in-bags?" How about chicken? Thaaaat sounds tasty.

Know your food. Know your farmer. Don't trust a cutesy name and logo - obviously it doesn't mean much...

New Table

Where has the time gone? I've ignored this blog terribly for far too long. I turned 34 over the weekend. My girls are getting so big! It is supposed to snow today, for the first time all winter, basically. The cattle are doing well, the chickens (I think) are doing well (it's hard to count them), and we're starting to get more eggs after their solstice sabbatical. :)

This is a project I've wanted to share. I got a table last summer at a garage sale for $25 from some Mennonites. It was about 3 feet wide, and 8 feet long, homemade, and with a surface layer of formica of some kind; that plastic-ey wood-looking stuff so many tables are covered with. It only had it on the top though, so I thought I might try to 'refinish' it.

The underside of the top is plywood, and the legs are just 2x4s with routered edges. It had been stained with something, as you can see in the photo where I haven't sanded below:

During the sanding stage

The top, of course, was the formica and I didn't know what was below it. The edges of the top were soft-grain wood (like the 2x4s), maybe 1x2s. There was a groove routered along the edge of the laminate surface, and the 'corner' of the 1x2 wood was slightly rounded.

As it happened, the good people I bought it from delivered the table to my front yard while I was at church one evening. It sat out that night, and the next day in the sunshine that dark faux-wood really heated up. Hubby and I were able to take flat tools (paint scrapers?) and begin to separate the laminate from the table. That was quite a job; contact cement works really well. 

At that point we could see there was 'real wood' (not plywood) as a table surface, but it was covered in layers and bits of the rubbery contact cement. I made several phone calls to my friend (who did our countertop redo a few years back) to get expert advice, and on his recommendation I bought a cheap Random Orbit Sander.

[sidenote: Random Orbit Sander, where have you been all my life?? Over 33 years I limped along, wishing, wondering if there wasn't an easier way to sand the many things I've sanded, and NO ONE told me about you! I love you!]

Following his instructions as to technique, grit coarse/fineness, etc, I managed to clean up the top of the table. I completely sanded off the sharp edge/groove at the edge of the tabletop, making a softly rounded edge to the whole thing. I realized shortly that the wood was all quite soft. Probably pine, or whatever your local lumber store stocks for building projects. One board in particular is even softer - it's the darker-toned board in the photos below. The feet were quite banged up, so I sanded and rounded parts of them too. The top appeared to be 1- or 2x6 boards, laying lengthwise. There were a couple deep holes/gouges that had bored down through the laminate surface, but I just chalked these up to character. Once I had it sanded and cleaned of all sawdust, I used a satin finish polyurethane on the top and legs (I ignored the underside of the table). I believe the top has four coats, and the legs 2 or 3 coats.

When we returned from our October trip, and my final layer had cured for a week or two, we hauled it indoors. It's HEAVY. And we buggered up the top somewhere along the way. :] But it's situated in our dining room, and I LOVE it. For $25, plus about $20 in materials (not counting my New Tool which I should've had already) I have a table that REALLY works.

Even if I have to shout for Hubby to pass the salt...

Loooonngg table

 The dark pinkish strip is the extra-soft wood. Due to the sanding, it wore down a little quicker than the rest, so it now serves as a 'trough' of sorts - anything spilled tends to go along it instead of off the edge of the table. Works for me!

I love the knots and color variations

 It's already additionally dinged-up from pencils and forks and other childhood weaponry, but as a family table, I'm not worried about it. I can always refinish it, or add another layer of polyurethane if necessary, and it's not like I'm out $700 if it's utterly destroyed. :)

This Wasn't Me

My aunt sent me this via email. I have no idea if it's true, but she decided it looked like something *I* might try, and she wanted to dissuade me from the idea, preventatively...

Why We Shoot Deer in the Wild

(A letter from someone who wants to remain anonymous, who farms,
writes well and actually tried this)


I had this idea that I could rope a deer, put it in a stall,
feed it up on corn for a couple of weeks, then kill it and eat
it.  The first step in this adventure was getting a deer.

I figured that, since they congregate at my cattle feeder and do
not seem to have much fear of me when we are there (a bold one
will sometimes come right up and sniff at the bags of feed while
I am in the back of the truck not 4 feet away), it should not be
difficult to rope one, get up to it and toss a bag over its head
(to calm it down) then hog tie it and transport it home.

I filled the cattle feeder then hid down at the end with my
rope.  The cattle, having seen the roping thing before, stayed
well back.  They were not having any of it.

After about 20 minutes, my deer showed up - 3 of them.  I picked
out a likely looking one, stepped out from the end of the
feeder, and threw my rope.  The deer just stood there and stared
at me.  I wrapped the rope around my waist and twisted the end
so I would have a good hold.

The deer still just stood and stared at me, but you could tell
it was mildly concerned about the whole rope situation.  I took
a step towards it; it took a step away. I put a little tension
on the rope ... then received an education.

The first thing that I learned is that, while a deer may just
stand there looking at you funny while you rope it, they are
spurred to action when you start pulling on that rope.

That deer EXPLODED.  The second thing I learned is that pound
for pound, a deer is a LOT stronger than a cow or a colt.  A cow
or a colt in that weight range I could fight down with a rope
and with some dignity.  A deer -- no chance.

That thing ran and bucked and twisted and pulled.  There was no
controlling it and certainly no getting close to it.

As it jerked me off my feet and started dragging me across the
ground, it occurred to me that having a deer on a rope was not
nearly as good an idea as I had originally imagined.  The only
upside is that they do not have as much stamina as many other
animals.

A brief 10 minutes later, it was tired and not nearly as quick
to jerk me off my feet and drag me when I managed to get up.  It
took me a few minutes to realize this, since I was mostly
blinded by the blood flowing out of the big gash in my head.  At
that point, I had lost my taste for corn-fed venison.  I just
wanted to get that devil creature off the end of that rope.

I figured if I just let it go with the rope hanging around its
neck, it would likely die slow and painfully somewhere. At the
time, there was no love at all between me and that deer.  At
that moment, I hated the thing, and I would venture a guess that
the feeling was mutual.

Despite the gash in my head and the several large knots where I
had cleverly arrested the deer's momentum by bracing my head
against various large rocks as it dragged me across the ground,
I could still think clearly enough to recognize that there was a
small chance that I shared some tiny amount of responsibility
for the situation we were in.

I didn't want the deer to have to suffer a slow death, so I
managed to get it lined back up in between my truck and the
feeder - a little trap I had set before hand ... kind of like a
squeeze chute.  I got it to back in there and I started moving
up so I could get my rope back.

Did you know that deer bite?

They do!  I never in a million years would have thought that a
deer would bite somebody, so I was very surprised when ... I
reached up there to grab that rope and the deer grabbed hold of
my wrist.

Now, when a deer bites you, it is not like being bit by a horse
where they just bite you and slide off to then let go.  A deer
bites you and shakes its head -- almost like a pit bull.  They
bite HARD and it hurts.

The proper thing to do when a deer bites you is probably to
freeze and draw back slowly.  I tried screaming and shaking
instead.  My method was ineffective.

It seemed like the deer was biting and shaking for several
minutes, but it was likely only several seconds.  I, being
smarter than a deer (though you may be questioning that claim by
now), tricked it.  While I kept it busy tearing the tendons out
of my right arm, I reached up with my left hand and pulled that
rope loose.

That was when I got my final lesson in deer behavior for the
day.

Deer will strike at you with their front feet.  They rear right
up on their back feet and strike right about head and shoulder
level, and their hooves are surprisingly sharp.

I learned a long time ago that when an animal - like a horse -
strikes at you with their hooves, and you can't get away easily,
the best thing to do is try to make a loud noise and make an
aggressive move towards the animal.  This will usually cause
them to back down a bit so you can escape.

This was not a horse.  This was a deer.  So, obviously, such
trickery would not work.  In the course of a millisecond, I
devised a different strategy.  I screamed like a woman and tried
to turn and run.

The reason I had always been told NOT to try to turn and run
from a horse that paws at you is that there is a good chance
that it will hit you in the back of the head.  Deer may not be
so different from horses after all (besides being twice as
strong and 3 times as evil) because the second I turned to run,
it hit me right in the back of the head and knocked me down.

Now, when a deer paws at you and knocks you down, it does not
immediately leave.  I suspect it does not recognize that the
danger has passed.  What they do instead is paw your back and
jump up and down on you while you are laying there crying like a
little girl and covering your head.

I finally managed to crawl under the truck and the deer went
away.  So now I know why when people go deer hunting they bring
a rifle with a scope - to sort of even the odds!

All these events are true so help me God,

An Educated Farmer

After laughing and appreciating the well-written tale, I responded to my aunt: "Yet another reason why grass-fed is healthier!"

These Days...

I'm knitting.. I said I wouldn't, and then I did. Mostly little stuff for little people. I got two knitting books - on my kindle! - on a cyber-monday deal. Last Minute Knitted Gifts and More Last Minute Knitted Gifts. Both of which might as well be titled "The Only Knitting EllaJac Will Try."[That's not entirely true. Three years ago I bought the yarn and began a poncho/capelet thing. I've had my needles pulled out, my needles scratched, bent, straightened, broken, and lost, and I'm still only on the edge trim]

I'm making Christmas gifts of the caloric version. Nothing too extravagant, but I'm laughing because I'm using organic popcorn... along with butter, marshmallows, and M&Ms... :P

I'm planning a brief trip out of town, and appropriate foodstuffs to feed us at various holiday events (pizza party? Not if you're gluten or dairy-free!).

I'm trying to send off my Christmas cards/newsletters. I posted jpgs of them on facebook, but the real-live ones which need to reach the mailbox... well, they're still somewhere in my van.

Considering how/where to give more. There are a few families I know who I'm looking forward to blessing, but also thinking about how to give more where it makes a bigger difference. Compassion has a gifting option, as does World Vision and Heifer Project. There are probably more, too.

I'm reading books. About compost, about farming, history and just for fun. One of my best friends (who I obviously don't spend enough time with) was recently a little surprised to hear me mention my weakness for Vince Flynn spy/assassin thrillers. :) Brad Thor is good too...

On the subject of reading, might I recommend Being George Washington? It's a history book, written like a novel, with commentary highlighting some of the qualities Washington had and who he was. And how we can aspire to be the same kind of good, have the same kind of integrity. BE what this nation needs. Each of us.

We replaced our dead tv (with another hand-me-down), and while not *huge*, it's still big enough (and not flat like the new ones) that we didn't want to try to get it upstairs into the tv room. So it's in our living room, and has been just the right kind of blessing, without being a curse (and I hope it stays that way)... We got a Roku thingy (I think that's the official term), which gives us a handful of internet channels (and complete control over *what* channels we have). Netflix works through it, and there are other premium/paid channels, plus some free ones (like pandora radio). And because we had to get the high-end Roku to work with our ethernet, we also got the Angry Birds game, which has offered some surprisingly fun family time... :)

Mostly I'm enjoying the season. Yes, it's getting busy, and I have moments where I'm overwhelmed with the balancing act of trying to keep everyone eating as they should, without offending guests or hosts, but most of the time I'm basking in Christmas music, loving my girls, and thanking God for this time.

Now that you've finished off the turkey, dressing, pie and potatoes...

I've gotten through most of Wheat Belly. Have you read that yet? There are several interviews with the author online (here, here, here, and here, are some I read. Google "wheat belly interview" for more), if you don't know what I'm talking about.

I won't recap the book; you can find that in the interviews and reviews, I'm sure. But I am going to tell you to read it. :)

I'll tell you what surprised me.. I expected to read some non-politically-correct information about America's favorite grain (favorite food?). I expected to be fascinated by his (and he's an MD; a preventive cardiologist, I think) take on the effect of wheat on weight, health, etc. I love reading that kind of thing, and do so often. :)

I did not expect to be mad.

And I'm not mad because I dislike hearing negative things about wheat (despite the fact that my mom used to say I had a "love affair with flour" when I was a teen). I'm mad because if - if - the claims this doctor makes are even half true, then there are people I love whose lives could be so much better, but no one has told them. I'm mad because while I might be able to shift our household further away from wheat, the thought of all the cultural influences just turns my stomach. You can get away with bringing your own food to a potluck if you have a bona fide diagnosis, but if not.... oi. It's hard. And I don't necessarily mean that people are offended and despise you (although that does happen), it's just... cultural. You've stumbled upon what may be, for you, life-changing information, but the rest of the world doesn't even question the status quo. It makes me mad that what should be unifying, nourishing, and beneficial to individuals, family, and community, instead is often harmful, sterile, and (if you try to step out of that), divisive. Ugh.

I'm mad that agriculture has used science to develop food that is not more healthy  or nourishing, but that produces more, faster, cheaper. Easier to harvest, store, process... and nary a question as to whether their tinkering might be responsible for the many-fold increase of celiac disease and gluten intolerance in modern times (quick; when you were growing up, did you know ANYONE with a wheat allergy? Did you EVER see a 'gluten-free' product advertised on store shelves?). And no, it's not just more-diagnosed now (read the book).

I haven't double-checked every journal article or study or research result that the author has cited (and there are a LOT), but he has implicated wheat  in far more than just celiac and obesity. How about heart disease and arterial sclerosis? Diabetes (and Pre-diabetes)? Acne? IBS? Hair loss? ADHD? Arthritis? Dementia? Seizures? High blood pressure? Poor cholesterol/triglyceride profile... It just doesn't end. I don't know about you, but I have close friends and family members who suffer with some of these things. What if  they could be helped by eliminating this one thing from their diet? Do their doctors know this? Would they recommend it? Would they just decide that a(nother) prescription is in order?

I don't think wheat should be outlawed, by the way. :) I don't even think everyone would be wise to eschew it in all its forms, forever. I DO think that this information should be available to each person, to weigh and decide, to double-check and pray and think through... There is no such thing as choice, or consent, if you lack the appropriate information. I encourage you, if you or your loved ones have any minor (or major) health issues, or can't lose that 'belly fat', or feel like you're lacking mental clarity at times (ahem)... Give this a read. It's an easy read, with some fun, unexpected pop-culture references, but includes enough science to satisfy my appetite for "But HOW does it do that..?" I paid about $10 for it on my Kindle, but I wish I'd gotten the hard copy, so I could loan it out. :) [this title currently doesn't have the loan feature enabled, by the way, so you can't even borrow it from me if you have a Kindle.]

So now that I've told YOU about it, I'll try to stop being mad. And start being thankful ('tis the season, always!) that this information IS out there now, and it might be just what someone has been needing. There is hope. :)


***

Here are a few more interviews/overviews which I hadn't seen before:
MacLeans
Wheat Belly Blog (what?? I might've saved $10? :) )
YouTube results for this book/author

Thankful

It's a non-traditional meal for us this year, but still so much to be thankful for.

So much.

Around Here These Days

Fall is certainly here. The nights are often in the 20s, my garden is full-on dead (but, for once, I've actually yanked a few plants and tossed them over the fence), and we use the pellet stove in the daytime (when we can get it started).

The girls are all healthy. I spent a week in October terribly sick - fever and aches were the only symptoms, but it kept me off my feet for a full week. THAT was not good for the housekeeping, let me tell you. And we ran out of bananas and eggs more than once (this whole-foods living doesn't leave much for kids to fend for themselves!). I did deign to take ibuprofen when my fever rose above 104˙, messing up lo, these many years. :)

We continue to homeschool with Ambleside Online, however, the week I was ill certainly revealed that apparently *I* am the only person who does anything around here and/or *I* am the only person who makes anyone do anything around here. These are not good dynamics. :( I do not know the answer yet, but I am praying about it, and debating on whether academics need to take a hiatus temporarily to give Real Life Skills some focus. For me, too.

The 20 pullets we raised this summer turned out to be 17 pullets and 3 roosters (I'm still wondering if I can get a refund on the pullet price I paid...), and one pullet succumbed to a Great Horned Owl. I'm sure it's no coincidence that the Devil has horns too... Anyway, the old hens are molting and taking their annual sabbatical from laying, and the new pullets have given us 2 or 3 eggs total, but production certainly isn't keeping up with our needs, so i've been having to buy eggs. Usually from an unmanned roadside cooler, sometimes from the grocer, and WOW am I reminded how blessed we are to have free-ranging hens. The product isn't even comparable to the store's.

We now officially have 3 jersey steers. We waited a long time to take care of Chuck (about a week and a half ago; nearly 6 months old) because of his Special Needs. I feed them every day now, and scratch my head and wonder if I'm feeding them enough/too much, too frequently/too rarely and the rest of it. I am fairly secure in my belief that Mae is pregnant; we boarded about a dozen ugly Angus-type cattle in September/October, and among them were 2 young bulls. There was no sign that Mae came into heat, so she probably settled after spending 6 weeks with a Highland bull before we got her. :) She is now quite tame, inasmuch as she comes near for her feed and will tolerate being touched through the fence or gate. The other day she was mooing at me near the garden, so I agreed to give her some hay (which is 100 yards or more from where I was. I walked along the fence and sang, "c'mon Mae!" and began running.. She tossed her big horns and galavanted alongside me up to the area where the hay is. I eased up before we got there, because I realized that she could toss herself right through the fence and never notice, were she inclined... :]

I 'wormed' the cattle using Shaklee's Basic H, of which I had to buy 5 gallons for over $200, because of course they've updated to Basic H2 and there hasn't been 50 years of experience to vouch for its safety or effectiveness at this application (of which Shaklee doesn't endorse). I expect I'll never have to buy from them again, considering the rates of application. :)

Hubby's work has eased up - still full time, but no on-call weekends and few after-hours projects (um, unless you count the projects *I* request...). We have been avoiding wheat for the most part, and are trying to limit the grains we eat as well. We eat potatoes, sweet potatoes and squash more often instead.

Lately I've been reading:
Rodale's Complete Book of Composting
You Can Farm
Salad Bar Beef
Wheat Belly
Folks, This Ain't Normal

Planning to Borrow (from the Library):
In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto
Fast Food Nation
Omnivore's Dilemma

And wishing for:
Growing a Farmer: How I Learned to Live off the Land
An Agricultural Testament
Holy Shit: Managing Manure to Save Mankind

Veganism is Ecological?

I've run across (in surprising places, sometimes) the argument that a vegetarian or vegan diet is more 'environmentally friendly' than an omnivorous diet that includes animals and animal proteins. I felt, more than knew, that this thinking was faulty (the documentary "Forks Over Knives" notwithstanding). I did know that there has been no successful or healthy people group (the world over, historically) who did not include animal protein in their diets. There were no indigenous vegetarians. :) Whether the Maasai who harvest blood and milk from their cattle (as well as eating some meat) to shellfish-eating islanders, caribou-eating northerners, fish-eating Gaelics, etc, no one ever subsisted (as a people group or civilization) without animal protein in their diets.

I have been listening to an audiobook, "Folks, This Ain't Normal" by Joel Salatin, my favorite farmer, who first introduced me to the difference between factory foods and natural, and who has inspired me for years (even if I haven't implemented much) towards producing food on our land. While this book covers a wide swath of subjects, there is one fascinating element that I'd never heard before (and I love nothing if not learning some new, interesting thing).

In a word, it is this: We need animals, specifically herbivores (that would be cattle, deer, moose, goats, sheep, etc),  to heal the earth - whether you mean air, water, or soil, doing without them would be terribly damaging to our environment. I'll try to give a brief reason as to why that is...

Herbivores graze green plants, which are solar-powered protein - protein you and I cannot access - turning it into meat and milk (proteins we CAN access). Properly managed, herbivores on pasture add to the soil. Their grazing naturally suits the strengthening of perennial grasses and legumes (plants that return every year) and weakens the annuals and weeds (things that put out seed, but whose roots do not tend to deepen and widen yearly). Their hoof-pressure also helps aerate and loosen soil, breaks down decaying matter, and allows water to soak down and microbial activity to increase. Their manure is truly an essential element for returning fertility to the soil. This is part of why a rotationally grazed pasture will strengthen over time, reducing weeds and increasing fertility, while a continuously grazed pasture will help the annual weeds and weaken forage. Grass also sequesters carbon dioxide as well or better than trees, for those who worry about carbon overload in our air.

So, to draw the line between these subjects, well-managed herbivores add greatly to soil health and atmospheric balance. Were we to all eschew beef, venison, milk, etc, what would these pastures be instead?

Well, barring the idea of just abandoning them to weeds (we have to eat SOMETHING, after all), let's assume we're vegans and plant something appropriate to our new diet. This is going to require tillage, which exposes (what was) soil rich in microbial activity to the elements. This immediately reduces that biological activity. [we could use a no-till method, but that requires copious herbicide, which also has it's downsides, obviously]. Next we will seed it with our crop of choice - usually soybeans (which have a host of reasons to NOT use as people food), perhaps a small grain like wheat or rye or barley or oats, or maybe even corn, amaranth, or teff? Kidney beans? Garbanzos? Pintos? The options are myriad, but one thing they all have in common... They are annuals. While a stand of grass puts a good portion of it's solar energy into root development (which adds to the soil, when these roots die), an annual lives to produce its seed. The bean, the grain head, whatever. So all the energy it could spare, all the minerals we expect to find in that food, are pulled from its resources and put into that seed. Plant energy (from solar), nutrients and minerals (from soil). The next step is harvesting that (each of these maneuvers probably requires petroleum-powered tractors and equipment, keep in mind), processing, storing, and finally, eating. But then what? What do we do with the field? There may be some plant detritus (straw, if it were wheat or barley, etc) but we need to eat next year too, so what will we do? One might assume that we would plant again... But remember, a huge amount of that soil fertility was taken up into our crop.. That crop was harvested off the field, so with what do we replace it? We could add (using big trucks and tractors, again) expensive, transported loads of compost, but... compost is hard to come by, since we're not raising animals for food anymore (and we can only support so many pets, right?). Barring that, we have to get some chemical (petroleum!) fertilizer to artificially prop up the plants. Keep in mind this field, were we to continue in this manner, would require more and more inputs (fertilizer, pesticides, etc) as the years go on, and our crop would be a little more deficient in trace minerals and nutrients, if it ever manages to produce as much as the first year.

Tell me which of these scenarios is better for the earth? Which adds to carbon sequestration, natural (not petroleum-based) management and fertility?

Joel goes into the historical practices, why pastures required five years of herbivores + grass to = one year of grain, why pork and chicken (omnivores, who often eat grains/seeds) are really less 'environmentally friendly' than grass fed beef (no one thinks grain-stuffed feedlot beef is good for any people or soil or air, right?), and how much we could restore to our earth (and ultimately our health), were we to shift away from grains and annuals (70% of grain produced is used for livestock food - much of it to herbivores which do not require it) and towards pasture-based animal production.

So the next time I run into the argument that veganism = environmentalism, I will want to find out if the person has considered this facet of it. I know I hadn't.

Farm Truck

Boy, I'm moving up in the world, lemme tell you...

I'll wait while you pick yourself up off the floor.

...

...

Ok, that's better.

We went and picked up a few items from my Granny's estate, and one of them was this beauty:

Suh-weet!

It's a 1963 International Scout - customized. My grandparents bought it from Granny's brother in the 1970's. Around the time I was born (1978), my mom nicknamed it "The Great Pumpkin" (she was forever naming vehicles). Grandpa chopped it somehow - turning it into a pickup, more or less. You can't tell from the outside, but inside the cab, just behind the front (and only) seat where the roof meets the rear window, there are welding marks. Maybe it used to have a backseat? I remember bouncing off the interior of this while Grandpa drove through the woods to cut firewood with my dad.

The above photo shows its extrication from the shed where it has been parked perhaps 20 years or so. You can barely see a boat suspended from the ceiling above the site where the Scout was parked; Hubby first had to disengage that boat from the upper portions of the scout; a rope had finally given way, and it's rear half had come crashing down. It has a hole, but it seems the scout isn't any worse for wear.

Hubby tried and tried to get it started, and had the engine actually running (!), but the clutch has had problems for years, and without it the PTO winch on the front wasn't going to operate anyway. We had to get it back to our area (12 hour drive minimum), so we had to trailer it, which took some doing (and 3 other pickups)...

I'm sure those old ramps will be fine...

One pickup to hold and stabilize the trailer, one to run a winch through a pulley attached to the front end of the trailer bed, and a third to eventually drive up and hold the back end of those ramp planks securely to the ground. It actually went smoothly and according to plan, about which I continue to be astonished.

Around the Scout we strapped the (somewhat rotted) side boards to the trailer (it's a hay trailer my grandpa made) and packed various boxes, bags, a bed frame, four dining room chairs... and to top it off, standing at attention in the back of the Scout was a push lawnmower - you know, the kind with whirling blades and no motor? I've always wanted one of those!

We may or may not have looked like the Clampetts on the road home...

Here's a view of the svelte interior of my new rig: 

All original interior

We've made some upgrades. We've removed the dog food bag (and scrap of what looked like a sheep skin) from the seat (of course, now the hole with springs is exposed, but anyway..). We've washed the algae and moss from the windows.

And that's about it. 

I need to reattach the nylon strap that keeps the driver's door from slamming into the front fender when it opens.

We're hoping to return it to its former glory, which included both first gear and reverse, and I will have a handy mobile toolbox (and kid hauler) to use to:

     a) fix fences 

     b) transport cheap livestock from nearby neighbors 

     c) show off in local car shows.

Not really on that last one.

I bet I could brood chicks in the bed of it, though...

Relative Abnormality

Now that things are slowing down (outdoors) and I have time to read and think more (oh, you thought I should have time to do laundry and mop more? Hm, maybe you have a point...), I get that double-dose of entertainment from my choices.

The first dose, I assume, is common to us all. We make a choice to read or research something because we are interested in it. And then, "yay, what a fun thing to read/learn/do!"

The second dose, for me, may be unique. I analyze just what it is that I am so thrilled to read, and I laugh out loud and shake my head at the subject matter.

Take this, for instance:

by J. I. Rodale

I borrowed this gem from a friend and market-gardener. But seriously??? Over a thousand (fairly antiquated) pages about compost? This is what thrills me???

And because yes, it does, I am entertained all over again.

But even I didn't expect there to be paragraphs to take my breath away. Man, they could write back in the day. Listen to this:

"One man will say, "From whence will come the raw materials with which to make compost?" and go straightaway to the chemist for a bag of something. He thus identifies himself as part of a system of soil banditry - taking, but hot giving.

Another man does not question. He knows that God gave an adequacy of everything and that if he seeks he shall find. He goes forth upon the highways and ventures into the byways. He comes home laden with the necessary stuffs, the wherewithal to mix a dish fit for the most savory carrots or the most exotic zinnias. He is weighted down with humus materials, both animal and vegetable, which the unknowing bystander considers trash or worse, but which, like the touch of Midas, will turn into gold under his competent hand."

Be still my heart.

I am finding compost poetic. We are talking here about scrounging manure (or maybe even roadkill??) and... it's beautiful.

Trust me, if this were anyone else, I'd be laughing at them. How can I do less to my own self?