Beef heart

Every time I dig in the freezer for something, I see that package wrapped in butcher paper that says, "Beef heart" and go right on digging.
We've butchered several animals over the years, and the only hearts I ever remember eating is chicken hearts.  I think I probably kept them in the freezer until they got old, and then tossed them.
Today I bravely took Sir Loin's heart out of the freezer and, using Google, studied methods of preparing a beef heart for human consumption.  I recall my mom saying she loved heart and dressing; in the oldest "Better Homes and Gardens" cookbook in my collection, circa 1935, I found a recipe for that dish.  Put stuffing in the heart, sew it up, and cook for three or four hours in a little water.
Sew it up?
Google has given me various methods of cooking heart:  slicing and grilling, slicing and frying, cooking in a crockpot.
I found one recipe I'd love to try HERE, but I don't have any sausage on hand.  I guess I'll just put it in the crock pot with an onion and a little water and see what happens.

You gotta have heart...

Or maybe not.  I opened the package containing the beef heart and was surprised to see that it had been cut open. so it wasn't shaped like a heart.  Cliff, former butcher that he is, informed me this morning that the USDA inspecter has to open up the heart and peer inside, just as he has to inspect the liver and other organs.  Who knew?  
I prepared a box of Stovetop Stuffing, put the heart in a crock pot, and spooned the stuffing on top.  Because heart is all muscle, I figured it might not make its own broth like a roast does and I added a little water.  Too much, as it turns out, because the stuffing was more moist than it ought to be.  I took a picture of the sliced heart this morning, with a container with the stuffing next to it.  This is not a lovely presentation, I know; I'm not Pioneer woman.  I don't have the patience to put everything on a fancy plate and take twenty-five pictures of it.  The crumbs of stuffing on top of the heart look nasty, so you'll just have to trust me when I say it was a decent addition to our noonday fare.  In the interest of full disclosure, I'll show you the picture.  

I sliced it pretty thin with an electric knife.  We usually try to have a three- to four-ounce serving of meat, so we each had three slices.  It was really tasty with the stuffing.  Yes, I mean that.  I expected it to be tough, but it wasn't.  Along with it we had stir-fried zucchini and smothered okra, since my garden continues to produce.   
We will probably have more tomorrow; after that, I'll give a little each day to Iris until it's gone.  She will not eat liver, either cooked or raw; but I found out she loves heart!    
I could freeze the leftovers, but I have a feeling the container would eventually float to the bottom of the deep freeze, only to be found when I defrost.  
I had no qualms about eating heart; it didn't bother me to think about what it was or where it came from.  If we didn't have much meat, it would actually be a treat.  But because we limit our meat intake, this is not the form of meat I personally would choose as my main course.  
Now, quit your gagging and go on to something else.

answering questions about our beef

Please ignore the different font sizes:  For some reason when I copied and pasted the questions from my comment section, Blogger then refused to allow me to make all my paragraphs the same size.  Go figure.  


 I was asked a couple of questions about our newly-processed meat:
  
I'm mostly known as 'MA' said...That is a lot of beef. Do you eat it all or give some away. We used to get a half a beef and even that was a lot of meat. Considering where it came from I'd say it's going to be choice meat fit for royalty. 
It truly is a lot of beef, but beef keeps well in the freezer for a long time.  And our whole beef may not have any more meat than the half-beef you used to buy; Sir was a Jersey, which is a small dairy breed, and he was butchered at almost exactly one year of age.  Beef breeds such as Angus and Hereford, and so many others, are usually butchered, I believe, between the ages of eighteen months and two years.  Beef type animals yield a higher percentage of meat from a carcass than dairy breeds, and have usually been fed quite a bit of grain in a feedlot; this makes the meat marble nicely, and produces good, tender meat, and more of it.  We have the biggest portion of our beef put into ground beef, and the few roasts and steaks we ask for have no bone.  Cliff tells me the bones would take up a lot of room in the deep freeze.  

Our freezer is medium-sized, and there wasn't quite room for all the meat we brought home.  That's OK, because Cliff's sister next door has a tiny little freezer, and she had made room for some of the meat; so she has a good supply of beef handy if she gets a hankering for chili or meat loaf.  If my daughter and her family want some ground beef, all they have to do is come and raid the freezer.  We also took a few pounds to the neighbor across the road who has so often blessed us with catfish ready for the pan.  

I do hope when Bonnie calves next month that she has a heifer, because this meat will easily last us for two years.  I don't need another steer.

Amy said... Do you keep the head?! That's how barbacoa is made! (good stuff....I had it for breakfast yesterday....and fairly expensive, considering it's made from a part most people would turn their nose up at....)

No, Amy, they don't even give the option of keeping the head, although I imagine a person could ask to keep it.  I wouldn't turn my nose up at anything made of the head; I like brains and sweetbreads, although I haven't had either since Cliff's days of working at a butcher shop.   I like mountain oysters, too.  But of course, that's from the other end of the cow.  
Here's how the invoice read:  1 beef slaughter, $15.  480 pounds cooling, aging, cutting, wrapping, $187.20  16 pounds liver, heart, tongue and tail, $6.24.  And 1 Waste Removal & boxing fee, $15.00.

Variety meats

Truly, when it comes to meat in the freezer, this is the land of plenty.  Cliff and I shouldn't even be eating much meat; lately we have gotten back to measuring portions and, once again, changing our relationships with food.  

As a side note, let me tell you how great Cliff is doing!  When we started this business of "getting back on track", I gave him a stern lecture:  "It's up to you how well you do.  I am not going to be your mother or your jailer this time, telling you what you can and cannot have.  If I see you eating something that isn't what you should be eating, whether at home or away from home, I am not going to say a word."

He has exceeded my hopes!  He's on-board with me this time.  Any time he's lost weight in the past, he always gives me the credit for it.  This time he can pat himself on the back while he's at it, because he is making a gigantic, successful effort to police himself.  And now, back to the topic at hand.

We do go ahead and have meat most days, because what are we going to do with it?  Somebody has to eat it.  We do share with various relatives sometimes, but right or wrong, we are eating it.

Yesterday I was digging around in the freezer and, as usual, kept tossing beef hearts and tongues and liver out of my way while I looked for ground beef.  (At least I used up the ox-tail in some soup this week, so I didn't encounter any of that.)  

Years ago I cooked some tongue and canned it in the pressure canner.  It was delicious, actually.  It tastes like (get this) beef.  If we didn't have half a cow in the freezer, we'd appreciate it and eat it more often, but when you have lots of meat, tongue and organ meats go to the bottom of the list.  We love fried liver, but someone with heart issues shouldn't have it very often.  For that matter, people with weight issues shouldn't be having much of fried-anything.  

I decided to grab a tongue and do something with it, even if I had to freeze it after cooking.  While I was at it, I picked up a package of liver... do you know how many packages of liver you get when you butcher just one cow?  A LOT!  "If nothing else, I'll boil it and feed it to Titan," I told myself.  For those who don't know, Titan is the next-door grandson's dog.  

I pressure-cooked the tongue for an hour and put it aside to cool.  By the time I was ready to do something with it, the liver had thawed and, searching the Internet for a recipe, I settled on liver loaf, something I've never tasted... but do you know any other ways to use liver?  I don't.  

Judging by the recipe ingredients, it's definitely not diet food, but I thought I'd slice it and freeze it in serving sizes (if it was any good) for quick sandwiches sometime when I don't want to cook.  Here's the recipe, which I'm pretty sure none of my readers will be trying:

LIVER LOAF

1 lb. liver, slices 3/4 c. boiling water 1 med. onion 1/2 lb. pork sausage meat 1 c. dry bread crumbs 1 tbsp. Worcestershire sauce 1 tbsp. lemon juice 1 tsp. salt 1 tsp. celery salt 1/8 tsp. pepper 2 eggs 4 slices bacon Pour the boiling water over the liver and simmer 5 minutes. Remove the liver and grind with the onions through the meat knife of a food chopper. Add to the stock with the remaining ingredients except bacon. Place in loaf pan, top with bacon and bake for 45 minutes at 350 degrees.

Now, by the time this stuff was ready to come out of the oven, it was four o'clock.  Cliff walked in the house just as I was taking a bite to see if it was any good, and said, "What's that?  It smells GREAT!"

I took a moment to chew and swallow and my little bite and answered him. "It's liver loaf.  Surprisingly, it tastes very good!  It's not as liver-y as I expected."  

And I gave him a small bite to sample.  

Now friends, when we are eating properly we are very hungry at 4 P.M., but we know it isn't long until supper.  If we're too hungry to wait, we go for an apple or banana.  But the smell was killing us, and the tiny taste only made things worse.  So we agreed to have a liver-loaf sandwich at five o'clock with one slice of bread.  It was delicious, although I'll admit at that point almost anything would have tasted great.  

Later I wrapped the rest in foil.  I'll probably put it in the freezer today.  I intend to slice the tongue and put it in the freezer in portions also.  If it were just Cliff and me, we'd have some for dinner today, but there's a possibility we'll have company.  I would never offer liver or tongue to guests.

Stay tuned for our next adventure in eating:  Pickled Beef Heart.

Depression foods

Meesha, of Kansas City With The Russian Accent, mentioned beef tongue in an entry today, and it took me back to the 1970's, when Cliff worked in a country butcher shop and we lived hand-to-mouth. Or should I say paycheck to paycheck.

If a customer took his own animal in to be butchered, he got the whole animal: tongue, liver, heart, tail and all. However, if people went in to buy a half- or quarter-beef from them, the butcher shop kept all those things. Those parts of a cow or hog are called offal, which the butcher-shop employees pronounced "all-fall" or "aw-fall".

Anyway, there seemed to be an excess of organ meats at the shop most of the time, and we were welcome to all the liver, tongue, ox-tail, and even brains, that we wanted, at no charge. I will tell you that I only cooked brains once. I loved the taste, but somehow I couldn't get past the idea of what I was eating. Which is strange, considering it never bothered me to eat mountain oysters. (If you don't know what that is, check with mr. Google.)

Back to beef tongue: I had a big pressure canner, and the book that came with it explained how to process tongue. I'll admit it was a challenge to boil and peel the rough skin off the tongue (which you did before processing), but once you had it in the jar, that was the best sandwich meat you ever tasted!

We had ox-tail soup regularly back then, and liver-and-onions often. I rendered lard, which was actually the only shortening I kept on hand. Lard makes the best pie crust! We could have all those things at no cost. I milked cows and made all our butter at the time, too. All those foods probably contributed to Cliff having heart problems years later, but we sure thought we were eating high on the hog then.

I could eat all I wanted, and never gain weight.

Liver is on the list of things Cliff shouldn't have, especially fried; but I may have to buy a package this week. I sure would like to have some liver-and-onions.

I've just triggered another memory, a joke Cliff played on me when I was about six months pregnant with my daughter: Cliff brought home something packaged in white butcher paper, sat it on the table, and told me to check it out, that Richard (the boss) had given us a ham.

"Unwrap it and take a look," he said. "It's a nice one."

I loosened the butcher paper that encased it and found, not a ham, but a hog-head, minus the skin, staring at me. Yes, staring. Its eyes were still it its head. Cliff thought that was the funniest practical joke ever.

I told him, "It's a good thing I'm not superstitious, or I'd be worrying that you marked the baby!"

And that's today's trip down memory lane. Thanks, Meesha!

Still hunkered down, but peeking forward in the forecast

In my last entry, I was sick of being house-bound.  What we ended up doing was eating out all day and doing some window-shopping.  

We split a meal at Big Biscuit in Blue Springs for breakfast (Country Benedict), then hit Bed, Bath and Beyond.  Cliff enjoys small doses of that store.  For the most part, we just look at the nifty kitchen tools you don't always find in other stores.  I bought nothing.  Next stop was Kohl's.  Since Cliff hates that store, he stayed in the car and surfed Craigslist on the Ipad while I looked through Clearance racks for marked-down winter pajamas and a couple of other items.  By the time we were done with those places, Sears was open.  Cliff browsed the tools while I once again checked clearance racks.  

Cliff stopped at Clark's Tool while I played on Facebook in the car; he found an item he'd been looking for; and by that time it was lunch time!  We had gone a long time with no Whopper meal, so that's what we had.  Eating out twice in one day is something we never do, but cabin fever will do strange things to a person.  

Yesterday, with the high temperature in single digits, I fixed a roast in the crock pot.  We don't have roast often, and this one really hit the spot (recipe here, but I wanted mashed potatoes so I didn't put the veggies in).  

Right after Cliff's open-heart surgery, I was really strict about what we ate.  While I have loosened up the rules considerably, I still try for a balance (ignore the eating out twice in one day, that doesn't happen normally).  For instance, if we have bacon and eggs for breakfast, I try to have a dinner that contains very little cholesterol and salt.  I also insist on having vegetables on the side, even when I really don't want them.  Because I think we need vegetables.  I usually serve them naked, by the way.  As much as I love sauces on our green beans and butter on the beets, these days all I do is cook them, heat them up, whatever it takes.  Yesterday morning I knew we would have beef for lunch, probably a bigger serving that we really should, so we had Cream of Wheat for breakfast.  We'll have leftover roast today at noon; I was really wanting bacon and eggs this morning, but I settled for something that tastes sinful but isn't:  Heart-healthy coffee cake, as found in Better Homes and Gardens!
 

HEART HEALTHY APPLE COFFEE CAKE

2/3 c. all-purpose flour 1/2 c. whole wheat flour 1 tsp. baking soda 1 tsp. ground cinnamon 1/4 tsp. salt 1 1/2 c. peeled, cored apple (2 large), finely chopped (Jonathan or Granny Smith) 1/4 c. frozen egg product, thawed 3/4 c. sugar 1/4 c. walnuts or pecans, chopped 1/4 c. applesauce 1/4 c. brown sugar, packed 1 tbsp. all-purpose flour 1 tbsp. whole wheat flour 1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon 1 tbsp. butter 1/4 c. walnuts or pecans, chopped Spray a 9-inch round baking pan with nonstick spray; set aside. In a medium bowl combine 2/3 cup all-purpose flour, 1/2 cup whole wheat flour, baking soda, 1 teaspoon cinnamon and salt. Set aside. In a large mixing bowl toss together the chopped apple and egg product. Stir in the 3/4 cup sugar, the first 1/4 cup nuts, and applesauce. Add flour mixture and stir just until combined. Pour batter into prepared pan.FOR TOPPING: Stir together the brown sugar, the remaining all-purpose flour, whole wheat flour and cinnamon. Cut in butter until crumbly. Stir in remaining 1/4 cup chopped nuts. Sprinkle topping over batter in pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 to 35 minutes or until toothpick comes clean. Cool in pan 10 minutes. Remove from pan and serve warm. 10 servings.

Cool coffee cake completely. Wrap in foil and place in airtight freezer container or plastic freezer bag. Seal, label, and freeze up to 1 month. Thaw at room temperature for 2 hours. Or, reheat by placing frozen, wrapped coffee cake in 300 degree F oven for 30 minutes.

Nutrition Facts (Heart-Healthy Apple Coffee Cake)

• 203 kcal cal.;
 
• 5 g Fat, total;
 
• 0 mg chol.;
 
• 1 g sat. fat;
 
• 37 g carb.;
 
• 2 g fiber;
• 4 g pro.;
 
• 207 mg sodium
• Percent Daily Values are based on a 2,000 calorie diet

I've had so many great books to read this winter but I am now rather bogged down reading The Monuments Men.  It isn't an easy read; following several different people around Europe and remembering which one is which works my feeble brain pretty hard, but I do intend to finish it.  I just can't sit and read a hundred pages at one sitting, as is my custom.  

This business of aging

I've been blessed with reasonably good health throughout my life.  Even now, the only prescription drug I take is a diuretic for high blood pressure.  The doctor wants me to take a statin, but so far I have remained adamant on that score.  Cliff has taken Lipitor for years with no side effects that I know of, but I'm stubborn (big surprise, right?).  I trust myself to know if and when the time comes that it's a serious enough issue to go on another drug.  Worst thing that happens is I have a heart attack or stroke, and hey, a person has to die from something, right?  I realize strokes and heart problems are nothing to make light of, and I know sometimes either can lead to something other (worse?) than death, but dark humor is how I deal with things.

Something I never even considered throughout my first sixty years of life is the fact that most senior citizens are suffering varying degrees of pain all of the time.  Sit in a parking lot at Walmart and watch older folks getting out of the car:  They gingerly straighten up as they step out, then limp halfway to the store entrance.  Even after they've gotten the worst kinks out, many of them, like me, walk funny as they go about their shopping.  

Who knew it could turn into an ordeal to sit on the toilet?  Now I know why there are handles to grab in the handicapped stall!  

I've learned that once you reach a certain age, you begin every day by assessing your pain, be it great or small.  Most of the arthritis pain I suffer comes from my knees.  Cliff, on the other hand, has had the kinds of jobs that really wore on his bones:  The butcher shop got his right shoulder, his back, and his thumbs.  His knees and hips bother him.  His back was so bad that, back around 1980, he was applying for a loading job at Yellow Freight and the doctor who gave him his physical said, "I wouldn't recommend you for any job that required you to lift over five pounds."

Cliff stayed on at the butcher shop lifting whole quarters of beef (back before cattle were as huge as they are now, but still...) and went on to work at concrete construction for many years, where he lifted huge amounts of weight constantly.  Sometimes doctors are pessimists.  However, he has always had what I refer to as a "glass back", where the least little thing could put him in pain for days or weeks.  

When you get older, the first thing you do on waking up is assess your pain.  It's always there, but mornings are the worst, it seems.  Arthritis is a strange thing in that the degree of pain varies from one day to the next for no apparent reason I can figure out.  I've never been able to see any connection to the weather, although some folks swear they can.  Sometimes the pain gets better after you've been up awhile and move around, other times not.

Cliff's back can almost totally handicap him for days or weeks, and he'll take a couple of Ibuprofen or Tylenol every morning.   Then the pain will fade and hardly bother him for weeks or months.  I only take something for pain once or twice a week, so I'm much better off than he is.  I used to keep a prescription pain pill on hands, but the doctor seemed to worry so much about prescribing it, I decided it wasn't worth the bother.  Ibuprofin seems to do just as well anyhow, without the side effects of oxycodone.

Meanwhile, I intend to do all I can in spite of the knees.  Cliff sometimes offers to drop me off at the entryway of a store so I won't have to walk from the far end of the parking lot.  I tell him, "No, I want to walk as long as I can, as much as I can.  I need to walk."

I'm still spending an hour a day on the stationary bike.  There will probably come a time I won't be able to do that, but I intend to keep going as long as I'm able.  So far the main thing I use my mobility scooter for is racing Cora in the Barbie Jeep we got her, but I've used it enough to know that if I'd let myself, I could sure get used to going everywhere on wheels.  

You know what amazes me?  How little you hear most people in my age group complaining!  If you're with a group of mostly older folks you see them laughing and joking, having a great time, when you know most of them have something, some body part, that hurts.  And the heart-breaking losses they've suffered!  They've lost children and/or spouses and gone through huge financial setbacks in their time, but they keep on smiling and trudging onward and enjoying life.

The people of my generation inspire me.  

Bonnie went for her last ride

We loaded Bonnie into Cliff's brother's stock trailer and hauled her a mile down the road to Nadler's butcher shop.  We don't need the ground beef, but as far as I'm concerned, I only had two choices: Have her butchered, or let Cliff shoot her and toss her in the ditch and bury her.  No way was I going to have her go to a huge packing plant where many of the cows are still alive when they start skinning them, thanks to the way the companies hurry the process so they can get maximum income from the fewest employees possible.  It isn't just the cows that suffer, either.  The employees of such plants are treated worse than animals.  
Had Bonnie calved a week later than she did, the butcher shop couldn't have taken her, because once deer season starts, that's all they process.  So I'm thankful the timing was right.
  
We are truly blessed to be neighbors with this butcher shop.  Cliff had a couple of things he wanted done differently, and the owner of the place came out and talked to us about those concerns.  For instance, while the ground beef from Jody is quite tasty, but there is NO fat in that meat.  Dairy cows don't have a lot of fat.  Since Bonnie is older, we were afraid she might have even less fat (less fat than none?  I know, that doesn't make sense).  We told Glen that if there was no fat on the cow, we'd like him to add enough fat for a 90/10 mix.  He said that's no problem, he'll add it if it's needed.  The other thing was the offal:  There's a charge for processing it, and we don't need or want it.  We still have the liver, kidneys, tongue, heart, and tails from the last two animals we butchered.  So Cliff asked if he could bring a bucket up tomorrow so they could just toss the offal in there and we can dispose of it, because there is an almost $18 charge for processing the offal.  Glen said that would be fine, just get the bucket there, with our name on it, by 8 A.M.  

Sometimes I forget all the perks of living in a small, close community.      

Restless night

This happens to me at least two nights a week:  I go to bed and sleep for three or four hours, then wake up to toss and turn, perhaps dozing from time to time but getting no more deep sleep.  
This was one of those nights.  I have no pain, I even feel tired.  But sleep won't come (the whole night through, your cheating heart will tell on you). 
Oh, I'm sorry.  I drifted for a few seconds there.  
Counting sheep (or cows, or blessings) never helps put me to sleep.  At one point last night I meditated on what a wonderful thing it is to be able to breathe, to fill one's lungs with air and then exhale.  So I took several such breaths and thought of what it would be like to have emphysema, and thanked heaven I quit smoking years ago.     

I tried to avoid some negative thoughts that kept pushing into my consciousness, things I only blog about in my private space on the Internet.
I heard vehicles accelerating nearby around 2 A.M., got up, and went out to stand on the front porch, wondering if the now-mostly-deserted house next door was the source of traffic.  It wasn't.   
The dog, hearing the front door open, came out of the computer room, collar jingling, and joined me.  We heard voices nearby, no doubt the nocturnal twins in their above-ground pool with friends, a short distance away.  I thought about Tyler, the twin with cancer, and how he told my grandson a few days after his chemo session, "I'd rather be shot in the face; I'm not doing it again."
The dog and I came back inside and went back to our respective beds.  
I pondered on the beef fillets I had thawing in the refrigerator.  What to do with them?  They aren't from Clyde, they're from Sir Loin, last year's calf.  We need to use up the older meat.  Cliff said I should wrap bacon around the fillets, but he has no idea how to proceed after that.  
Keep in mind I only learned how to properly cook steak last November.  
How's a woman to sleep when she's worrying about how to cook fillet mignon?  

Then I started thinking about coffee, and that's all she wrote.  I gave up trying to sleep and got up.  
I came to the computer and googled fillet mignon.  Keep in mind these fillets are tiny little things because they come from a yearling steer of dairy breeding.  But the flavor will be great, if only I don't overcook them: we like medium-rare.
On the subject of coffee:  Do you have a favorite coffee cup?  There's always one in my cupboard that I will reach for first.  I like a good-sized mug, not too big though because my coffee would get cold before I drank it all; and I like it to have some sort of saying on the side of it.  Over the years I've had favorite cups with positive thoughts, comic sayings, and Bible verses; all of them eventually break, and I move on to another.  My first choice these days is this one:  

 I wonder who came up with this, and why?  I know there's a Green Day song, "Before the Lobotomy", and I wonder if that inspired this cup.  I don't know why it tickles my fancy, but when I saw it at a garage sale for a quarter, I had to have it.  Cliff doesn't like this one because he drinks his coffee black, and the coffee doesn't show up in a black cup so he sometimes over-fills it.  Since I use creamer, I have no similar problem.  
So, back to the fillet mignon.  The recipe I linked to wants me to use a meat thermometer to check doneness; I have no such thermometer.  I'm supposed to brown the bacon-wrapped steaks in a skillet and then put them in the oven for a short time.  
Here's hoping.  

Thursday Thirteen: Edition "L"

1. Lucky: I prefer the term "blessed", but yes, I consider myself lucky. If I were to die tonight, I feel life doesn't owe me a thing. It's been a great ride.

2. Libby: One of the most positive experiences I've had with horses was with a filly named Libby. I didn't succeed in breaking her to ride, but she left me a much better person for knowing her. That little lady had heart. I was blessed to have spent time with her.


3. Lemon pie: My sister's recipe is the best. You'll find that recipe HERE.

4. Liberty, Missouri: My husband works there.

5. Liver: We had beef liver this week (another of the things my husband shouldn't be eating). The liver came from a steer we recently butchered whose name was Meatloaf. The liver-and-onions were delicious.

6. Lexington, Missouri: A nearby city that's jam-packed with history. A Civil War battlefield, the Anderson House museum, and lots of antebellum homes.

7. Lionel Richie: I discovered him late in life, but one of his songs is part of a favorite memory: my daughter, driving, took me to Georgia to see my son graduate boot camp; on the way home she was fighting sleep, and a certain song came on the radio: "Come on, Mom," she said. "Sing it with me." Here's the song:



8. Life: "I call heaven and earth to witness against you today, that I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse. So choose LIFE in order that you may live, you and your descendants..." Deuteronomy 30:19

9. lettuce: The lettuce I planted in my garden in February is up and growing.

10. loner: That's me.

11. Luke: My favorite of the four Gospels.

12. love: "But now we still have faith, hope, love, these three; and the greatest of these is love." I Corinthians 13:13

13. Lyndsay: My youngest grandchild. My little Georgia peach. Here's a picture of her riding my big horse, Blue, last July:

One thing and another

We had a perfect Thanksgiving Day:  The next-door grandson’s wife Heather and I shared our get-together, so it was her family and ours combined.  It made for a great collection of twenty-some people and lots of delicious food.  Neither of our houses has room for so many people, so as is often the case, we held the celebration in the shop.  There’s an overhead heater there, so we were quite comfortable.  The only thing lacking is a rest room, which Cliff and I wish we had added when it was built.  So folks have to use either Arick’s bathroom or ours.  Slight inconvenience for guests, but not a problem for me, at least not when it’s a gathering of people I know.  

I left Gabe in his kennel while people were arriving, then let him join the fun.  He loves people, and there were a lot of dog-lovers present, so he was in hog heaven.  I only feed him dog food, with an occasional bite of chicken or beef we’re eating.  He doesn’t beg, but I have a feeling someone fed him something they shouldn’t have, because yesterday, the day after, our living room was filled with the noxious gasses he was emitting.  I put some matches next to my chair, of which many were lit during the day.  

There’s something bothering me I’ve been meaning to address.  I hesitate to post something directly to Facebook about it because it would likely start a war of words, so I’ll get it off my chest here:  It’s the Facebook fundraisers.  On my birthday, I was given the option of having a birthday fundraiser for the charity of my choosing, and I thought it was a wonderful opportunity.  The response was great, so I surpassed my goal of $200.  I have generous, big-hearted friends.  I chose the local charity in our county that pays cancer patients for the fuel they have to use to get to their radiation treatments.  This group is near and dear to my heart because they wrote Cliff a check for over $700 when he was being treated.  I also donate a little to them every Christmas season.  My goal is to eventually pay them back what they gave us, so others can benefit as we did.  

Shortly after my fund-raiser, the naysayers came along, spreading their discontent like wildfire:  They object to the Facebook fundraisers because Facebook gets 3.5 to 5% of the money collected.  “I will give directly,” they say.  “I’m not giving Facebook anything!”  

No, you would NOT have given to my birthday cause on your own, because you never heard of it.  It was my birthday, I chose the charity that helped us.  Those who chose to contribute made my birthday great!  Facebook processes the credit card donations, which of course costs them something.  Even Catfish Charlies’, our only town restaurant, charges for their cost of processing credit cards.  That doesn’t stop us from eating there when we can afford it (which isn’t often).  If Facebook is making a couple of bucks on the deal, it’s great with me, because most folks haven’t heard of the Lafayette County Cancer Coalition.  Here’s what upsets me:  When people see your objections, they are often swayed by your opinion. I wonder how many fine charities, especially smaller local ones, suffer from this.  People who gave to my fundraiser probably won’t give to another one, now that they think they are handing Facebook a pittance.  Folks are so paranoid!  It’s sort of the same deal with Gofundme.  A local family I don’t know lost everything when their home burned, and I gladly gave.  Right after that, one person started a hate campaign:  “I’m not giving to Gofundme because they get part of the money; I’ll give to the people directly.”

That’s great for you, but I don’t know them personally and I won’t be giving directly.  Also, I have Facebook friends who I consider real friends that I’d gladly help with a need, but I don’t even have an address for them.  How would I give directly?  Please stop and think of the people you are influencing with your negative words.  

Whew.  I feel much better getting that off my chest.  Don’t be a Scrooge.

Sincerely yours, 

Donna

Getting ready for Fourth of July

Every year, our son travels here from Georgia for the 4th, usually staying for about a week.  Cliff and I have been doing some healthy eating lately, and it's been fairly successful.  Both of us have lost some pounds.  But when Jim comes to visit, it's tradition for me to see how much sugar and how many starches I can possibly use in five days.  Throw in plenty of bacon, sausage, and other kinds of pork, add 14 pounds of fatty beef, and its a wonder that somebody around here doesn't have a heart attack or a stroke every July!

I only hope Cliff and I can do a little portion control for the week of the 4th.  We have good intentions, but we'll see. I wanted to get our usual brisket, and at first I thought of Walmart.  But then Cliff reminded me that Costco had some the last time we were there.

My Costco membership is free because a friend from my very last job works there; she and her husband have a Costco membership that gives them a couple of cards for family or friends, and she gave me one of those.  It's 25 miles from our house to Costco, so we don't go often.  I messaged my friend and asked her how much their brisket was. she immediately messaged back.  It's the same price as Walmart.  I have been around long enough to know that if Costco and Walmart have something at the same price, you'd be a fool not to head to Costco.

But before we went I did some Googling and found this video;  no need to watch all of it, just take it from me that Costco won.

 

Now, I'm not going to be smoking my brisket:  I'll cook it in the oven, cooling it down, cutting it in slices.  Then I'll pour some tasty juices and barbecue sauce over it, and put it in the freezer.  One day of the week our son is here, I'll thaw it and we'll have brisket sandwiches the next day.  Another day we'll have tenderloin sandwiches.  There won't be a lot of work or standing up for hours with my bad knees, that way.  I am always expected to make Rice-and-Raisins (similar to rice pudding, but no eggs are involved), and I make cinnamon rolls at least once while our son, his wife, and their youngest grandchild are here.  I'm going to do as much as I can ahead of time.

We will definitely have potatoes, onions, and green beans from the garden.  If blight doesn't totally take over, there will be tomatoes.  Cliff and I are eating pickled beets every day with dinner, but most of our company won't go near beets.  We bought bacon at Costco today, four pounds for $16.99.  As we were heading for checkout, we got one of their huge $5 cooked chickens to go with our green beans and potatoes when we got home.  It was still nicely warm after our thirty minute ride home.

Now, on another front:  just in case any of my readers know someone who has dandruff, I googled up the perfect cure a while back.  Cliff said Head and Shoulders wasn't working for him any more, so I found a product that claimed to be the best thing for dandruff:  It's called Nizoral,  and Cliff has NO dandruff now.  It is pretty costly for a shampoo at $28 for 14 ounces, but Cliff said he doesn't have to use very much, and it does work wonders.  Some things are worth paying a higher price for!     

And now, it's almost time for the two of us to go get haircuts.

Peace.

Chili

People will be around today, and I wanted to have something for anyone to eat who happens to show up.  Every time I thought of something I'd like to cook, I seemed to be missing at least one vital ingredient.  We don't live next-door to a store, and I hate worse than anything making a trip for one item, especially on a day that has enough other stuff going on.  Cliff saved the day by suggesting chili.

As I was going about the preparations for chili, gratitude began to fill my heart for so many things:

1.  That huge pan, the only one in the house that will hold a quadruple batch of chili or a double batch of home-made noodles (I think it holds two gallons).  Thank you, Charlene Marlow, for giving me that pan years ago.  
2.  I can't raise good onions; if I try to store them, they rot in the middle.  So I dice them and freeze them.  I was so thankful not to have to dice four cups of onions this morning.  Thank you, lousy onions, for being faulty and forcing me to freeze you.
3.  Most years I have a wonderful sweet-pepper crop, but I always have far more than I can use, so I dice them and freeze them.  Thank you, pepper plants, for the good winter supply of a vegetable that is rather expensive to buy in the store!
4.  My two favorite cows had to be butchered last year, one because she wouldn't re-breed, the other because after her calf died, her udder was so messed up I couldn't have milked her.  Those cows were pets, but we have no qualms eating them.  Today three pounds of ground beef is there in my chili.  I know it's from Bonnie because there is a little fat in her meat.  Jody's meat is practically fat-free.  Thank you, Nadlers, for processing our milk cows so that they didn't die in vain.  I am so glad you are less than a mile from our house.
5.  I have my own tomatoes to use in the chili.  One quart failed to seal this year, so I put it in a freezer bag.  Used that along with one jar that did seal.  
6.  Beans, dry beans!  I happened to have a couple of one-pound bags of small red beans in the cabinet, so I soaked them overnight, cooked them this morning, and have now added them to the chili. 

And now, after all that gratitude, I just realized that we are out of saltines.  Maybe my daughter has some at her house.  Somehow I doubt it, but I'll see.

Bone for the dog

Cliff and I had T-bone steaks for dinner today, as well as cauliflower in cheese sauce and green beans.  Gabe always gets any beef bones we have around here, once we have the meat off them.  The trouble has been that he insists in eating his bones in the living room.  I don’t particularly like slimy bones being dragged around on the carpet.  I used to put him outside on the tie-out before I gave him a bone, but sometimes the weather isn’t fit for that.  Right now, for instance, we are having our April/May rainy season.  A few months back I decided on a compromise:  he can have his bone in the living room, but he has to keep it on a small throw rug.

It took him awhile to figure out what is expected of him, but he has the idea now.  He keeps that bone right on the rug.  Once in awhile a tiny edge will slip off the rug, but I scoot it back where it belongs and he’s fine with that.  I'm always watchful when he's eating a bone, because he does keep chewing until the bone is down to almost nothing.  I lost one beloved dog to a bone piece that stuck in her throat, and I don't want to go through that again... but Gabe loves his bones SO much!

I went to the vet today to get him a new supply of heartworm medication and flea/tick preventative, and saw a notice on the bulletin board that all dogs are going to need a heartworm test because there is now a heart worm that has developed resistance to the current preventative.  I found out Gabe won't have to have the test until this winter, so at least that's one expense I didn't have this time around.  Still... my dog cost me $125 today.  It's a good thing I like him.  He's worth it to me.  

I've always used the flea/tick preventative that you rub on the dog's back, but this time I got the Seresto collar.  The vet said that's the cheapest option, and it works for eight months.  I must search Amazon and see if it's cheaper there, so I'll be prepared if I should decide to continue using it.  

It's still raining.  Last time I looked at the gauge, it was almost on the two-inch mark.  This is what I expect in April and May, so let it rain, I say!  My tiny garden likes it just fine.  

Peace.

I've been given another day

This day is a little different for me.  Cliff, his sister, and her son went to visit Aunt Gertrude again, and I'm here at home with my dog.  These days it feels very strange to be alone in the house because it's such a rare occurrence.  Of course I have three or four hours to myself most mornings, but I always know Cliff is in the bedroom (and alive, because I check on that first thing).  But most of our days are spent with each of us on a computer or reading device of some kind.  We read a lot in winter.  We're not always saying a lot, but we're in the same room.  I plan a day around the noon meal, which is about the most exciting thing that happens.  This is a good thing, I suppose, because there are some things that cause excitement which I want no part of...  for example, tornadoes, heart failure, slips on the ice, and cows getting out.  

Just hang on for the ride and let's see in which direction my mind wanders today.

Speaking of cows, the two Holstein steers are only here until Monday evening, when we'll take them down the road to the butcher.  I imagine there won't be any more bovines on the place, unless someday the grandson decides to have cows.  Oh, I suppose if we run out of beef in the next three years we could buy a calf to raise, but I seriously doubt it.  So my chores, after next Monday, will consist of walking Gabe a few times daily and feeding the three cats twice a day.  Oh, and checking in on Apollo, the grandson's wife's great Dane, a couple of times on the days Heather works.  Sometimes I bring him over to play with Gabe for a little while.  Heather only works three days a week, never the same days, sometimes on weekends.  So tending to Apollo three times a week isn't much of a chore, especially since I rather enjoy doing it. 

Oh, the cats:  Most of the time I buy Kit and Kaboodle or some similar brand for them.  It's relatively cheap; I don't research what is best for cats, the way I do with Gabe's dog food.  They are barn cats; a lot of things can happen to barn cats that could shorten their lives, and I can't see spending a lot on their food.  I feed them twice a day.  They each need a dish, since Mama Kitty thinks it's vulgar to share a dish with another cat.  Sometimes only one or two of the cats have been showing up at feeding time, but I'll see the tardy one later, heading to the barn to eat.  Last time we were at Costco, I decided to try their Kirkland cat food.  When I tore the bag open at home, the stuff looked unremarkable... no cute little shapes and colors, like some brands.  But when I served some of it up to see how they'd like it.  I swear, you'd have thought those cats hadn't eaten for a week!  All three of them were chowing down as though they were eating hamburger!  Ever since then, all three cats are waiting for me at the barn when I go out to feed them twice a day; even her majesty, fat Mrs. Mama Kitty. 

On another subject, my Amazon Echo, Alexa, died last week, victim of a power surge.  It was plugged in next to our TV, so I'm glad it was only Alexa who died.  I'd had her since July, 2015, so she had a good run.  I have an Echo Tap, which works like Alexa except it isn't voice activated and it doesn't have to be plugged in all the time.  It's great for carrying from room to room or taking outside in the yard.  Cliff, me, and Cora used to go outside and march to John Phillips Sousa tunes playing from the Tap, which I had hooked to a belt-loop.  

A Facebook friend offered to give me his old Echo, since he'd bought a new model, but I told him I wanted the latest one, which I heard has even better sound quality than the original.  Now that I've had it a few days, I can say it does, especially on the bass notes.  And it only cost $79, less than I paid for my original one.  We use Echo for music more than anything else, although I do always keep my grocery list on there, transcribing it to paper when we're ready to go shopping.  I also use it often to find out if certain famous people are dead or alive, or how old they are.

I think Cliff would admit he enjoys Alexa too, mostly for the music.  It's just the neatest thing to think of a song you haven't heard in years and tell her to play it.  In the past, Cliff been hesitant to talk to her himself.  He's more likely to say to me, "Tell that thing to play (naming a song)" and I do.  But the other night he got on a roll, having her play one song after another.  All of them were old country songs, of course, because that's what we like.  Once in awhile he'd get a title wrong and I'd have to give her the right title, but for the most part, he was commanding her very well for an hour or longer, one song after another.  He finally went too far, though, when he told her to play "Wolverton Mountain".  I hate that song!  I can't believe he likes it.  I expressed my displeasure, so he asked me, "What's your favorite song?"

That required some thought, because I love lots of songs.  In my head I filtered out the old hymns I love, because I was pretty sure he was after pure country songs.  What I finally came up with was "Coat of Many Colors" by Dolly Parton.  You know, even if you love a song, familiarity with it will eventually get it to the point that you don't pay attention when it plays.  But the minute I hear the lead-in guitar strumming at the beginning of that song, I melt.  I suppose I can relate to it in part because my family wasn't prosperous, and because my mom sewed all my clothes when I was small, many of them made from pretty, cotton, brightly-colored chicken-feed sacks.        




I wish my readers a wonderful day.

My chores

In the past I've had "chores" that took up large portions of my day:  Milking cows, bottle-feeding calves, feeding pigs, tending chickens.  There were times I'd have three or four cows to milk and a dozen bottle calves to feed.

At present I have two bottle calves:  Every twelve hours I mix up their milk replacer, then go out and give them their bottles.  While I'm out I feed the cats.  In the evening I shut the chickens in to keep them safe from predators, and in the mornings I open the door that lets them out into the chicken pen.  I don't spend a lot of time doing these things, but there is a huge bonus to doing outside chores in winter because it gets me out into the beauty of the night.  

Without chores, I'd get out of bed, head for the computer, and stay there until Cliff wakes up, because you know how a computer can suck you in.  But now I have no choice but to go out IN THE DARK twice a day to chore.  Last night while I was out I admired the beauty of the full moon peeking through a layer of clouds.  I heard a train whistling its way past and smiled when the coyotes started howling at the noise.  I wonder why coyotes howl at trains.  Seems like they howl more during a full moon, too.  

The cats are getting along pretty well.  Jake will actually eat out of the pan with the youngsters now.  As for Mama Kitty, after her disappearance recently I found a spot, sort of a shelf, in one wing of the barn, where I put her dish.  It lets her eat about four feet above the ground where no pesky kittens can bother her, and she loves it.  If she's around when I go outside in the morning, she leads me to the spot, just in case I've forgotten where to feed her.  I think she will never accept the kittens as friends, but now that she knows she is "special" enough to be fed apart from them, she seems satisfied.  

The kittens:  They feel their real home is in Cliff's shop, and Cliff is putting up with them pretty well, although if it weren't for Cora, who isn't here this week, I'd probably find a new home for them just because of the infringement on Cliff's space (he doesn't complain, he'd do anything to make Cora happy).  They are using the litter box when they're in the shop, and I clean up after them.  I remove them from the shop when it's being shut up for the night... Cliff doesn't like to touch cats, so it's my cats and my job.  In the morning when the kittens see anybody going to open the shop, they are right at the door trying to squeeze in, and no force on earth can keep them from running in as soon as the door opens a crack.  Just try pushing them back with a foot; the little brats won't be denied!

The calves are growing nicely, eating some grain now.  Milk replacer is expensive:  $34 for a bag that lasts about 10 days for one calf, and there are two of them here.  The grandson is paying for his calf's milk, though.  Still, to feed one calf to the age of eight weeks is over $200.  If they seem to be ready to wean at that age, they'll be eating calf starter and hay, and that's a cheaper diet.  Next spring they can live on a diet of pasture grass, at little expense to us.  I'm enjoying them, looking forward to having plenty of beef next fall.  AND appreciating the fact that they get me out and about and off the computer.  

I found out yesterday that Arlo Guthrie is coming to Kansas City.  You may recall I recently did a blog entry about him.  I'm going to see him if I have to crawl!  Maybe I'll tell Cliff to consider it my Christmas present, even though we don't do Christmas gifts much.  Let's face it, if I want something, I get it for myself.  However, he will have to escort me.   

You know, I've loved folk music since the folk renaissance of the sixties.  It's almost the only kind of music I listen to these days.  It makes me wonder if I'm really a liberal left-winger at heart, because I don't know of a single folk singer who isn't left-wing and very vocal about it.  In the old days, some of them were even communist, or accused of such.  Pete Seeger, for one.  Shouldn't I be uncomfortable listening to Utah Phillps' anti-war song "Enola Gay", when I truly believe Harry Truman had no choice but to drop that bomb?  But I love the song!  Even Burl Ives was blacklisted for his communist leanings in the 50's... you know, the guy that sings "Holly Jolly Christmas" in Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.  

Well, I'm done probing my psyche for now.  I have hungry calves to feed.

Peace.

I have a few hours alone

 Cliff and his brother are on their way to Craig, Missouri, to (probably) buy a loader for Phil's tractor.  Cliff is going to have to do some things to make the loader fit on Phil's tractor, which should keep him busy for awhile, perhaps, on another day.  People used to tell me I'd be seeing more of Cliff than I really wanted to after he retired, and I argued with them, telling them how busy he stayed in the shop.  The truth is I never felt the four walls closing in on me until the Virus arrived.  That shouldn't have made a difference, since he does a lot of couch-sitting anyhow, and he's earned the right to sit.  All I know is that I definitely feel like I need more alone time these days.  Bless his heart, some afternoons he'll go to the shop to just sit and listen to his country music so I'll have an hour alone, which makes me feel guilty even though I didn't suggest he go out there.  

I don't want anybody thinking I'm putting my husband down:  This is his house as much as mine, considering he paid for it; he shouldn't be required to leave at the whims of his wife.  I'm not saying that just because he reads my blog.  People who are married to introverts have a rough way to go in life, and Cliff copes the best he can.  Ideally I'd have an outbuilding behind the house close enough to get Internet, with a comfy chair and a milk house heater to warm it in winter when I needed some space.  Then I'd be the one to leave the house for awhile instead of him.  

I have trouble reading a book or doing a blog entry when Cliff's in the house, simply because he and I converse often, a conversation that never really ends, but simply takes long pauses, then begins again later in the day.  We look at our computers and sometimes tell one another what we just found online.  The other day I went out to the swing to compose my blog entry, and he realized I was looking for some hard-to-find quiet space and went to the shop, although I hadn't told him my reason for going out.  It just seems that when I'm in the house, I'll get the thoughts flowing and then Cliff starts telling me something and next thing you know, I've lost my traction on the blog entry.  It's the same with reading a book; I just can't tune out the TV or radio or conversation.  I can only concentrate when there's no distraction.

On another note:  I have a friends in Kentucky; I first "met" the lady in the AOL Christian chat room where I made so many good friends I later met in person.  Cliff took me to Texas for my first "chat room reunion" and I met Ora and her husband.  Cliff didn't want to go.  A lady in Arkansas had told me I could ride to Texas with her.  However, I had not met Lona "in real life", and Cliff was convinced she was actually a man trying to trick me into meeting him so he could.... well, you fill in the blanks.  My husband couldn't believe he drove clear to Texas to protect me from an innocent bunch of Christians over fifty.  There may have been a strange person or two in the group (I recall a lady who wore a chicken hat most of the time she visited with us at the Texas reunion), but for the most part, they were cream-of-the-crop people.  

Ora and her husband live next door to their daughter and her family.  The daughter caught Covid-19 a few months ago (not really sure of when), was in the hospital a long time, and is home, but still not back to normal.  Here's a strange thing:  Both Ora and her husband tested positive for the virus but have never had so much as a sniffle or sneeze.  No symptoms at all, and they are at an age to be high-risk.  

Yesterday her daughter, who I would guess is middle-aged, was on my mind, so I asked about her.  Here's what she messaged back:  "Amy is doing well. She has her good days, then other days she hides from the world in her bedroom. She is on steroids and lung meds. She has a hard time socializing, she is afraid. She has bad dreams at times about dying. But we have assured her she is fine, that just having the virus is not the full story. It is for the rest of her life. She got slammed big time."

You see, I only know of one person in or near my Lafayette County circle who had the disease, so it's a shock to read about the serious and fatal cases across the country, especially if it's someone you know. It reminds me that Cliff and I do take some risks when we socialize with our families, although I don't intend to stop doing it. The grandson lives right next door and goes to work five days a week at a place that probably has two- or three-hundred employees with only one possible case of the virus. They wear masks all day. My son-in-law works at the same place. My daughter is back to working away from home, so she's a risk too, as is Cora when she visits. We haven't quarantined properly since the first month of this mess. Yes, we are at risk and will continue to be. We don't go where there are big crowds, we wear masks in stores even if they aren't mandated. That's about the extent of our quarantine. If we get this virus, you could almost say we asked for it.  

We live in a rural county where it seems at least half the cases of Covid take place in nursing homes and jails. We've stopped going to the city to Costco because they are out of a lot of the stuff I want to buy these days. I really wanted to give some business to the two closest stores to us during this time, but neither of them have good produce; they let it get old and tired, so you pay the price and come home with soft grapes and wilted lettuce; they also don't have much variety, although that alone wouldn't stop me from shopping there. I won't buy ice cream at the store in Lexington because two different times I've come home with frostbit ice cream. I guess Oak Grove Walmart will be my store in the future, and it's fifteen miles one way to get there.

We are now almost to the point of buying all our meat, after so many years of plenty, but the prices are getting down where they should be, at least occasionally. Ground beef is what we use most, and I will soon be buying some.

And that's about all I have to say today.

Peace.