The Baby Bagged a Buck

Only 14 years old, Son4 didn't have a photo ID, and there had been some confusion in the house over whether or not he'd need one in order to acquire a hunting license.  The evening before gun season opened, he studied online, and it was determined this feat could be accomplished, so he and Charles jumped in the truck and made a trip to town.  I pondered at the time this man-thing which could prompt a couple of fellows to trek into town in the cold dark of the night.

Son4 was up in the darkness of morning, applying his man make-up, and told Mom he was going to "hunt" from the pool deck.  Gentle prompting to choose a more reasonable spot to plant himself was met with an explanation that the deck would be grand.  When Charles arose shortly thereafter, he slipped into the living room and apprised me in a low tone that Son4 was planning to hunt from the pool deck, despite Dad's urgings to choose a better spot.  I told him I'd already unsuccessfully been to that well, and we shared a parental Isn't that cute smile.

All suited up in camo — when draping themselves in lumber and spindles would have made more sense to me — Dad and son exited through the front door, while I sat knitting in the living room.  Imagine my surprise when 20 minutes later I heard a distinctive *x!CRACK!x*

I tossed my knitting aside, rushed to the windows, and looked intently at what was occurring on the deck.  Both men were standing.  They were facing one-another and talking.  Then I saw Son4 point toward the cornfield across the road.  More talking between the two.  Then I saw Dad give Son a high-five.  WHAT!?  I rushed to the door, threw myself onto the porch and hollered, "Did you get one!?"  Indeed.  Okay, I teared-up.

An exciting day it was on the prairie.  And a few days later, the bounty was hauled back from the meat locker and appreciatively and admiringly packed into the freezer.  Lovely venison steaks were on the table for dinner that night.

Don't mess with a man with a painted face.  He just may know what he's doing.

O Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all: the earth is full of thy riches.  So is this great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts.  There go the ships: there is that leviathan, whom thou hast made to play therein.  These wait all upon thee; that thou mayest give them their meat in due season.  That thou givest them they gather: thou openest thine hand, they are filled with good.  Psalms 104:24-28

Guineas

Zoomer got guinea chicks this summer, and knowing my interest in this project of hers, she's so cleverly and delightfully been tucking into some of her e-mails what she labels each time a "Gratuitous Guinea Shot."  I'm always eager to see where the silly birds are this time and to have a window on their antics.  In the absence of my camera's USB cord — and in my effort to delay as long as possible the feast prep-work on my to-do list today — I decided to share with you Zoomer's silly guineas, which I plucked from her missives to me:





Now this next one I'll label "Gratuitous Garden Shot," and it displays what this amazing woman produced in the fall, after she'd made a cross-country move mid-summer.  We've been in our home 4 years now and still have packed, unexplored boxes in the barns.  Zoomer planted a garden on the new homestead and is reaping the harvest of her labors:


Kinda makes a slow-mover wanna upchuck applaud.  ºÜº  *applause*  You go, Zoomer!

Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise: which having no guide, overseer, or ruler, provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest.  Proverbs 6:6-8

The Great Porcupine Debate

Son3:  Why did God give porcupines quills, when there was no death or destruction before the fall?

Mom:  Well, He had foreknowledge.

Son3:  No, He didn't create the world to fail.

Mom:  No, He didn't.  But he had foreknowledge that it would.

Now, this exchange continued far longer than I would have welcomed, if I hadn't been stuck here anyway, waiting for a film to finish loading.  Eventually, Son3 asked why God didn't give the mouse quills [for protection], so I told him the mice weren't elect, and the porcupines were.  I don't even believe in election (as set forth by Calvinists), so he knew I was messing with him.  Listen, I was pretty tired of being jabbed by a porcupine.

And I'd just finished that mouse whammy, when I realized Son4 had arrived on the scene and was standing next to Son3, listening-in and looking bumpy and bulbous in his middling parts, with the tail of his t-shirt folded up and clutched in his fists.  Our hens' egg production was way down while the temperatures were in the upper 90s and low 100s, yet it looked like quite a passel of fruits he was toting.  My eyes got big.

Mom:  Are those the eggs you got today!?

Son4:  No, I have the mumps.

First Son3's porcupines, and now deadpan humor from the baby Son4?

Nine.  There were nine eggs today, which isn't too bad, considering we have quite a few old freeloaders out there.  We continued this conversation with him imparting the news we'd gotten a dozen eggs the night before, but I was asleep before the count, and how the weather certainly must have been our recent problem.  About this time, Son3, who had silently excused himself when he lost my porcupine attention, reappeared with the answer to his doctrinal question, which he held while weighing-in on egg production:

Son3:  You know, chickens don't lay when they're in a molt.

Mom:  I know.  (Our chickens aren't in a molt, but I saw no reason to go head-to-head with Son3 again.)

Son3:  Know Dad's explanation of porcupines?

Mom:  What?

Son3:  So all the other animals could have pens.

He seemed happy with that, and my film had finished loading, so our debate ended.  Thanks, Charles.

Postscript:  Did elephants have itches before the fall?  I may be onto something here.

And God said, Let the earth bring forth the living creature after his kind, cattle, and creeping thing, and beast of the earth after his kind: and it was so.  And God made the beast of the earth after his kind, and cattle after their kind, and every thing that creepeth upon the earth after his kind: and God saw that it was good.  Genesis 1:24, 25

O.k.a.y.

He that gathereth in summer is a wise son: but he that sleepeth in harvest is a son that causeth shame.  Proverbs 10:5

Poor Little Grape Tree

Remember this photo from early April?


On that day, I also chose this Scripture:

Thus saith the Lord the maker thereof, the Lord that formed it, to establish it; the Lord is his name; Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and shew thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not.  Jeremiah 33:2-3

"...I will answer thee, and shew thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not."  Indeed.  I certainly didn't know this could happen:


Of course, it's not a grape tree.  It's a pitiable plum tree, so heavily laden with fruits that it even shed one branch in a recent storm.  Tell me these don't put you in mind of grape bunches, though:



I've never seen so many plums on a tree in my life, and I'll be hunting recipes incorporating them, because these will be ripe in a couple of weeks.  This is a plum crazy year!

My soul shall make her boast in the Lord: the humble shall hear thereof, and be glad.  O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together.  Psalm 34:3, 4

Mirabelle Plums

I'm not very observant, especially outdoors.  The tree in the foreground below is actually two trees growing together.  There's a lot of that going on around here, and since we were late arriving on the scene, we don't know why.


I can't tell you whether or not this tree bore fruit in previous years.  I know it produced the red things, and they're not edible.  Here's what grows on one half:


This year, the other half looks like this:


And this...bigtime:


I was in the pool Sunday, when Charles began lobbing the fruits at to me.


I had a little fruit feast.

We decided they're plums, so I hunted online until I found a match: Mirabelle plums.  Tasty.  Very tasty.  Sour skin and sour near the pit, but most of the flesh is juicy and sugar-sweet.  Now I have to decide whether or not to harvest and put them up...as something.  Can you imagine peeling 1,837 bitsy plums?  Me neither!  And just how much jam can a family eat?  Plum pie?  Wikipedia says they're used in pies, too.  I've never heard of plum pie.  Allrecipes.com, I'm on my way.  Maybe.

Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time: Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.  I Peter 5:6, 7

The Tomato from You-Know-Where

Last evening, Charles brought in another sackful of tomatoes.  (*moan*)  This time he told Son4 to get the camera and everyone to gather 'round, because he had something to show us.  We all stood poised to be wowed...and were not disappointed.  It was the tomato from you-know-where, and the reveal elicited the desired gasps and exclamations.


Devilish little thing, isn't it.  Intriguing as it is, rather than leaving us all with that image emblazoned upon our minds, I've fixed it.  It's a Purrley Tomato: 

And every priest standeth daily ministering and offering oftentimes the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins: but this man [Jesus], after he had offered one sacrifice for sins for ever, sat down on the right hand of God; from henceforth expecting till his enemies be made his footstool.  For by one offering he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified.  Hebrews 10:11-14

Hen Fruit

Partly because I'm endeavoring to cycle Brannon off the main page, yet equally because this is just good stuff to pass along, this one is to provide a link to a good article Willow sent my way:  The Incredible, Edible Egg Yolk.

"Egg yolks are indeed full of cholesterol. Like most cholesterol-rich foods, they are jam-packed full of important nutrients, especially the fat-soluble vitamins and essential fatty acids.

In fact, the slew of nutrients in an egg yolk is so comprehensive that a few a day would offer better insurance than a multi-vitamin. Most importantly, the yolk contains most of the nutrients in an egg."

Eggs are good.
Get a chicken or 27.

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.  Trust ye in the Lord for ever: for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength.  Isaiah 26:3-4

Vanquished Apricots

With a combination of jam and sauce for meats, in a quantity of 30 pints, 2010 apricots are out of my life.  Well, excepting for the part where they're perched atop the cabinet in the bathroom.  I know, I know, cool, dark place is better.  Give me a few days to enjoy no mountain of orange orbs in my kitchen, and I'll try to hatch a better plan.  And, too, there are those final dozen jars of sauce which were processing when I realized I'd completely forgotten the garlic.  Label: APRICOT SAUCE - GARLIC.  Fresh garlic at the time of use will be better anyway; yeah, that's it.  *phflubbb*

Wouldn't it be awful if fruit trees bore several times a year?  Thinking about putting up a harvest is quaint and so Little House.  The actual act is a whole other story.  I'd never have made it on the pioneer prairie.  And I hope we can eat tomatoes fresh and in a measure equal to their ripening, at least until Tuesday!  Prepare for my next whine.  ºÜº

Mopping steamed brows.

Sing unto the Lord, O ye saints of his, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness.  Psalm 30:4

Catfish Not

Yesterday, I fished our little pond for catfish and caught a couple of nice ones.

I was enjoying the battle with this one...


...until the wrong face surfaced:


And it was pretty peeved:


I warn't none too pleased, myself.

And why call ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say?  Whosoever cometh to me, and heareth my sayings, and doeth them, I will shew you to whom he is like: he is like a man which built an house, and digged deep, and laid the foundation on a rock: and when the flood arose, the stream beat vehemently upon that house, and could not shake it: for it was founded upon a rock.  But he that heareth, and doeth not, is like a man that without a foundation built an house upon the earth; against which the stream did beat vehemently, and immediately it fell; and the ruin of that house was great.  Luke 6:46-49

Predator Pumpkins

Last year, around the end of June, I was talking to Charles about how fervently I dislike gardening (pain, heat, dirt, weeds, bugs, snakes, et al), when he made the most amazing statement: "Well, people who garden do it because they like gardening.  They enjoy it."

You gotta be kidding me.  For real?  All this time, I thought good women planted gardens, and I so wanted to be a good woman.  Not gardening didn't make me a goodNot woman?  Now, if it was garden or starve, I'd do the deed, but that may be for another year.  I was NOT enjoying gardening (that year or any of the others), so I quit; I never saw the garden again, and neither did it see me.  Vegetables disappeared beneath weeds, and if that was wasteful, I'm sorry all over myself.  I became a much happier woman, and no one needs a cranky (dusty, perspiration-streaked, whining) woman hanging about.  *brushing garden dirt from hands*

But late last fall someone tossed over the fence, into the garden, (surviving) pumpkins which had served an ornamental purpose.  Splat!  This spring: Surprise!  Pumpkin plants in the garden, a few feet from the tomato plants Charles does enjoy planting and tending.  Yanking up many and transplanting others to the other leg of the garden, we decided to allow some to stay where they'd magically grown.  Now Charles wrestles the monsters, directing them away from his tomatoes, which they threaten to choke on a regular basis.  To the right you see the plant which crept through and past the tomatoes to get to the kid. 

For me, volunteer plants, untended gardening, and photo ops are perfection.  And here you have it:

Now that's a LEAF:


Crazy pumpkin-crawl on the other side of the tomato plants:


Gotta love the tendrils.

So no thanks to me, we may have quite a pumpkin harvest this fall.  God planted the pumpkins, He waters them, Charles wrestles them, and I'll eat 'em.  Perfect. 

But after that the kindness and love of God our Saviour toward man appeared, not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost; which he shed on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Saviour; that being justified by his grace, we should be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life.  Titus 3:4-7

Nana Mouse Ears - Do We Have a Winner?

Four Mouse Ears.

I'm going to ignore that Tickseed part, because I don't like it.

I like the Nana part, so it gets a star.  This surely must be a flower meant for me.

I also like these parts: perennials, 1 year guarantee, and heat and drought resistant.  Watering is not my forte.

More work to do in the flower hospital, but some of the gaping holes are now closing.

Mouse Ears are weeds.  They'll love it here!

Meanwhile, back on the gazebo path, lilies are blooming:


And we've picked a few apricots:

Jesus answered and said unto him, If a man love me, he will keep my words: and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him.  He that loveth me not keepeth not my sayings: and the word which ye hear is not mine, but the Father's which sent me.  John 14:23, 24