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Showing posts from 2016

Let Go

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Often when I am out on my walks I encounter sights that steer my thoughts toward deeper subjects.  Here is one that I encountered last winter.  I have various paths I take the dog(s) walking on depending upon where the milking herd is quartered.  Both coming and going I pass by this old grapevine: You can see one little dead vine tendril clinging to a dead twig. The main vine stretches from one tree to the next, so the twig is hanging between the trees.  There is no way to tell how long the vine has held the twig prisoner; swaying in the breeze, for years maybe.   Once upon a time when the grapevine was small it sent out a tendril and caught onto the small limb of a tree.  It needed the support while its central stem climbed higher. But at some point the vine tore away from the tree, or perhaps it was a small tree that died.  Who knows?  But the main trunk of the vine continued reaching upward into the canopy of the forest, leaving the small tendril hanging there, cl

Circumstances?

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Ever have a bad day?  What's a person to do? Get out from under What's crapping on you.  (Thankful for the little lessons in life that God shares with me.  Also thankful that bovines tend to have oily fur which sheds stuff like this fairly rapidly.  By next morning she was pretty much cleaned off.  haha)

My Whole30 Story

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Not that my story is all that terribly dramatic.  However I did get on here and on Facebook and talk a bit about it, so I thought I'd wrap up the first 30 days. Yes.  I did write the FIRST thirty days. Today is Day 30 of my Whole30.  Here are my results: *  This morning the scale advised me that I'd lost 10 pounds!  Yay!  This is really a pretty dramatic weight loss for four weeks of not half trying.  I did 30 minute to 1 hour walks 4-5 times per week.  But no major workouts.  And, with the exception of about 3-4 oopsies, I followed the program to the letter. *  I can honestly say I went a WHOLE month without sugar!  This is a biggee for me.  My sugar dragon used to wake up roaring every morning, and roared loudly most of the day.  I will not say I do not have the occasional desire for chocolate; but the craving to consume everything and anything sugary is now pretty much quenched.  *  I know this is TMI, but it has to be noted.  My GI tract is running quite s

Whee, What a Day...

Actually, all in all, it was a good day.  Fridays are always shopping day.  Taking my mom into town to go shopping is always an adventure.  She is like a kid.  But I have become used to it; I find the humor and enjoy laughing with my mom. Anyway. Gary has been getting in our supply of hay for the winter.  He did bale some a few weeks ago, but he has had to search around to get enough to last all winter. Last week he went over to L--- to look at some.  He said they were 4x6s, which are large, but manageable, and will last a couple of days up the road at the dry cows or heifer lots.  He asked to have them delivered; I believe from 2 different farms, but the same driver.  Earlier this week the driver brought 2 loads; no problems at all.  Then today he brought a 3rd from a different farm.  Major problems.  The hay wasn't what Gary had seen and inspected when he was there.  It was the same size but was super wet and heavy.  I'd walked by it and it already smelled sour.

The Turkle

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Long, long ago, back when I was still living my California life, my sister got me a turtle.  A red-eared slider.  This was by my request, by the way.  For some reason I have always been fascinated by turtles and I wanted one awfully bad.  I put it in an old aquarium and kept it for about a year.  Unfortunately I don't think I ever actually took a photo of it; for some bizarre reason. In any case my dad started calling it the "Turkle."  This is because his mother, my Grandmother Davis, always called them "turkles." In June of 2015 I caught the below photo of a red-eared slider, commonly called a pond turtle around here, laying her eggs in my green bean patch.   Then this past spring I'd pretty much forgotten all about it.  Gary tilled the garden beds and imagine my surprise when I went to plant my beets and found this: Isn't that the cutest thing?  A baby red-eared slider.  I was enchanted, so I kept it.  It wasn't until much later tha

The Full Bull Story

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This actually happened on Sept 1st.  I started this on Sept 2nd, but have had in draft since then.  LOL  In the intervening time I have forgotten quite a few details....maybe on purpose!  Haha To begin with let me just say that  in the almost-13 years I have been on the dairy,  I have had minimal trouble with any of our bulls, and have only been in dangerous situations a couple of times.  All of those times were up the road in the heifer/bull pasture where we take the open heifers to be bred for the first time, and Gary was always with me.  (Hi! I'm Ellen :P ) (Um, this is what happens when you walk away from your blog for a moment.) Yesterday however I was on my own. Last year I went into the heifer/bull without hesitation as the bull was quite docile, minded his manners, and stayed with his ladies.  We were in and out of the multiple times from Nov through Feb; feeding, getting calves and cows...etc.  He didn't make a moo about it. All summer however I had been

Here I am again

So... I am trying to get back into the groove here of blogging.  But I am failing abominably at it.  Nothing for it but to get back up and write about anything that comes to mind.  Here's what's happening on the dairy now. Whole30 Last Saturday I started "The Whole30" plan.  It's not really a "diet" as you'd think a diet should be.  It's more of a lifestyle change really. There are no calories to count. No points to keep track of. No portions to weigh. Just lots and lots of whole, delicious foods to eat. A friend asked if my food was boring.  No, not really.  I am, or was, a boring eater anyway.  Though I do like the varied spices in Indian foods, and try to imitate their cuisine when I can.  I am attempting to be a bit more creative with making my meals compliant to the program.  We are supposed to go easy on the fruit, but I am probably pushing that rule to the limit.    Here's what the basic rules consist of: For 30 days th

Two Questions

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Recently...well...a month or two ago...two people asked me two different questions: "Do you do what you do in the garden because you enjoy it or because you are expected to do it?" "What keeps you motivated?" One question came via a phone conversation and one by Facebook, within the space of a week or so. I have been pondering these questions since and I believe the answers are almost the one and the same. To me gardening is, in many ways, magic.  God's magic as it were.  It is the old, old story of death and rebirth.  The circle of life. The sort of magic that never gets old, that never ceases to thrill.  How miraculous is it that you can take teensy little dead things like this...                                                  (source: gippslandgardener.wordpress.com) plant them and get a plant that grows taller than you are and produces, under ideal circumstances of course, pounds and pounds of fruit like this?                         

Learning Life Skills

It needs to be said now at the beginning here; I am not and likely never will be much of a homemaker.  It's a fact.  But I have a daughter; therefore I needs must teach her SOME life skills of homemaking and sitch.  This summer I have been attempting to do that.  We are transitioning her laundry into her responsibility.  I still help a bit, but she does most of it. This morning I had her put it in the washer and then we went down to visit my mom.  (Who is doing quite well, BTW, though it's routine that she forgets to take her meds.  Which story is for another blog post perhaps.) My mom, after a bit of chitchat, inquired about our activities for the day.  I told her we'd harvested our onions, weeded in the garden a bit, and played with the dog.  But we needed to go home so Ellen could hang out her laundry. My mom was puzzled: "Ellen needs to hang out HER laundry?" "Yes." I said.  "She's learning how to do her own laundry." Mom: 

Ellen's "Times"

In various books that we have read together the children in the story have written their own newspapers.  Ellen wanted to follow suit, thus here is her newspaper, spelling errors and all.  May 29, 2016  By Ellen Memorial Day Tomorrow, as we all know, is Memorial Day!  It is a day to remember all of the Vetrans.  Lots of people celebrate with barbecues and such. Fashion Trends The most popular fashion Items are swimsuits.  Of corse they will be, well because its summer, and it's also time for swimming.  Popular patterns are usually cheveron and Polka dots.    Boy fashion: Plaid shirts and Nike/Under Armour are very popular Hard Times As we most all likely know, the Beloved Long Lane Elem. has closed. ):  My Long Lane friends and I are trying and have secksessfully ajusted to the new school.  How did we do it?  Easy.  4 cups of faith and one of friendship. 5 Questions ansewerd Today unknown has ansewerd 5 questions to the book The Dragon's Whim, By Pamela Dean.  H

Country Can-do...

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 On Facebook a few people commented on my fix of my broken glasses: Hubby's idea; A section of coat-hanger and hot glue.  So far they have worked for 3 days!  It was something to the effect of a Humboldt or Ozark fix... Anyway; I said I liked to call it "Country Can-do."  You come up with whatever works. I did that in another way last week, too. We do not have a microwave.  This was a mutual decision hubby... (Rabbit trail:  Why do I keep calling him that?  I dunno.  That's what I started calling him when I first started this blog, and I have just kept it up.  I call Ellen Ellen...  Hmmm...  His name is Gary.  Maybe I will just call him that.) Anyway.  Gary and I decided to forgo having a microwave for a couple of different reasons.  Gary doesn't believe they are healthful.  I have never had luck with a microwave; they will last maybe a month for me and then go KAPUT!  Then I have to figure out how to get rid of them. Then there is the fact that I have

Another Mom-ism

As much as she is able she tries to keep in contact with family and friends from California.  She does, when prompted, remember names and situations. For instance; at the senior living apartment complex she'd lived in for so long there were a few neighbors she became friends with, or otherwise was acquainted with.  She does remember them and ask about them from time to time.  The apartment manager, Doris, has written her a couple of letters and kept in touch; which is very sweet.  There was one man there who was friendly, but irritating, that she remembers; Brad.  He had Parkinson's Disease, I believe, though don't quote me on that one.  He was in a wheelchair, but could use a lift to get into his truck and hold a part-time job, I think.  Or he volunteered, I am not for sure.  Anyway.  A couple weeks ago Mom got a letter from Doris saying that Brad was in really bad shape and was waiting for a referral from his doc to be admitted into a care facility.  Mom:  "Oh,

Mom-isms

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Here, in case you missed it last fall, is a pic of my mom in our new Mule.  She seems happy, waving joyfully at the camera, but afterward she admitted she wasn't quite impressed with her ride in it; "I felt like I was about to fall out the whole time." Ha Ha. Anyway.  She still gets kudos for being willing to try new things at age 86.  Her mind may be going, but she is willing to give most anything a try. On the subject of her mind going.  Yes, she is quite likely in the earliest stages of dementia; very forgetful.  She will ask the same questions several times in a row, doesn't recognize her own possessions if they are out of her sight for any length of time...etc.  But she is almost always in a happy-go-lucky mood and smiling. Even when she was younger, I can remember she'd forget phrases or names and come up with funny sayings.  One in particular I can remember is what she called the popcorn dude; Orville Dickenbocker. 

1 1/2 Inches

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Yes, that's about how long that clipping of hair is.  You'd never guess only that much hair would bring on the end of the world.  Or seem too, at least. My daughter, bless her heart, has this "THING" with having long hair.  She has never...even when she was too young to really care one way or the other...wanted her hair cut.  She has always wanted long hair. So about 3 weeks ago when I suggested we trim her hair, Katy bar the door, you'd've thought I'd suggested we cut her head off instead of her hair!  I hadn't trimmed it in over a year, almost 2 years in fact, so it was uneven on the ends and rather raggedy.  O, Lord...talk about carry on!  She summarily refused to agree to a trip to the hair salon, so I must needs do the dirty deed myself.  She wailed and gnashed teeth for a while...then insisted that we get it over with ASAP, necessitating my leaving supper dishes in the sink and heading to the bathroom to accomplish the scalping.

47

On Wednesday, about...oh...maybe 3ish PM, I was fixing supper and happened to catch a glance of the palm of my hand out of the corner of my eye. On it was written, in black Sharpie: 47  That's all.  47 I remembered writing it there, but for the life of me I couldn't remember WHY or WHAT it stood for or WHEN I'd put it there.  I mean, that IS my age, but why the samhill would I write my age on my palm? I finished preparing supper; we ate, did chores, went to bed. In the course of time the 47 wore off.  But my curiosity remained. On Thursday I pondered; off and on.  Well, Wed morning I'd gone to our Book Study.  But there are no Sharpies readily available there.  Afterward I'd stopped by my mom's.  We keep a Sharpie handy there.  Ellen uses it to mark off the days on the calendar to help my mom remember what day it is.  (Not that this works, but that's a different blog post altogether.) But why 47? Hmmmm I keep a  Sharpie in the kitchen at home.

The Great Escape

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Last night we had just finished eating supper...maybe about 4:30 PM, when the phone rang.  It was sister-in-law who was just getting home from work, from Lebanon way.  Here's a brief version of the conversation: SIL:  "Yeah, I think your cows are out, down at the creek on P Highway." ME: "What, what?" SIL:  "They are all Holsteins and it looks like the whole herd, some are in the road." ME, talking to hubby: "She says there's a herd of Holsteins on P Hwy at the creek." Hubby: "It has to be them, their the only dairy cows in the area. Get the car, get going!" ME:  "!" SIL, half hour later:  "I asked what I could do to help, but I was talking to empty air; you'd hung up on me."  LOL Hubby got on the 4-wheeler and Ellen and I jumped in the car really quick and off we went.  It's not too far from us; just a mile around the corner maybe. When we got there only 2 cows were on the highway

Cows are Funny

It is finally spring here in the Missouri Ozarks.  The cows are happy to forego the hay and nosh on grass and clover. There is a pasture to the west of the farm barnyard here where hubby puts the milking herd at night in the spring.  He has kept this pature shut up until now because he had to put up cattle panels to protect some new equipment we put out there this winter. So the grass and clover are ankle deep; lush and green.  Last night, for the first time in months, hubby opened the gate and let the cows go out there after milking.  Boy did they ever enjoy it.  They enjoyed it so much that in the morning they were rather uninterested in coming into the barn to eat during milking.  Hubby said he opened the door for the first batch, all of which usually come into the barn voluntarily, and they all just stood there and looked at him.  He had to go out and coax them in.  They'd filled up on green stuff. So, after milking in the mornings in spring and summer, they are usually e