Lent starts tomorrow with Ash Wednesday — don’t forget to stock up on fish! — so here’s a cute story about a boy who decided to spend all of Lent in a tent.
And here’s why Pepper won’t go anywhere near the cows when we take her to the farm:
image from icanhascheezburger.com
Cows are mean critters where dogs are concerned.
Over the past decade or so, Pike County, Illinois, has become known nationwide for great whitetail deer hunting. The crops here grow deer the size of small cows, and the racks aren’t bad either. Due to the slow economy, some of the regular out-of-state hunters are taking the season off, so there’s a chance for new people to get in on the action for a reasonable price.
My folks have openings for hunters on their 350-acre farm. They charge $200/day or $1000/week per hunter, and have both archery and firearms days left. If you’d like more details, see our whitetail deer hunting page on the farm’s web site. Bow season goes into January, but the rut is coming up fast, so contact us soon if you’re interested.
Just a quick reminder that we’ll be selling pulled pork sandwiches tomorrow (Saturday) at the Trade Days at Stone’s Prairie Market in Plainville, with the proceeds going to the Barry Winners 4-H group. If you’re new to Plainville, come into town until you get to the four-way stop, then go North about two blocks, and you’re there.
The pork is cooking right now, and we’ll be selling it in BBQ and plain (salt and pepper). I’ve already tasted it, and it’s excellent. I’m starting to hope it doesn’t sell too well, so we have lots of leftovers!
There will also be craftsmen there doing things like basket weaving and soap making, rugs, purses, baked goods, etc. The Stone family will have a historical booth about Stone’s Prairie, the original name of Plainville. And you can get your picture taken with a lamb.
For more info, see this page on our Beebe Creek Farm site. Hope to see you there.
Wow, this was a busy weekend. Not busy in my usual sense of, “I missed my two-hour afternoon nap,” but seriously busy. I’m still looking for a weekend when I can do nothing but relax, but it looks like that won’t be happening for a while yet.
Since I wrote a few weeks ago that my folks had extra locally-grown, outdoor-raised hogs scheduled for butchering, we’ve sold a couple of them, but there are still a couple available. They’re going to Kabricks’ this Thursday, March 5, so if you’re interested, please let me know by Tuesday at the latest.
They’re a bit bigger than the example I used in that piece, probably about 300 pounds or so. That means a half-hog will give you about 90-100 pounds of meat, for a total cost of $150-200, depending on how much processing you want done. We get the bacon and ham cured and half the sausage made into patties, and ours generally comes to about $1.70/pound.
There’s no need to pay anything in advance; just contact me with your name and phone number at aaron@baugher.biz or 217-440-0795.
Yesterday’s post kind of drained my writing energy, so to paraphrase Mike and the Bots, today’s entry will be an anthology of short, plotless posts.
I didn’t realize my earlier post today was my 100th, so I’ll have to celebrate this one, the 101st. (Or I could go back and delete one of the lamer ones….nah, too much trouble.) I suppose that makes this as good a place as any for some thoughts about the past year and the coming one.
Buculae sunt bestiae versutae. — Cows are wily beasts.
Yesterday as we were leaving the farm, we found a cow out on the road. A heifer Jersey calf, really, about a year old, that goes by the name of China. (About twice the height of the babies in the picture.) I got out in the howling cold wind in my lightweight going-to-visit jacket and single layer of jeans, and started driving her toward the driveway. She did not want to go. But I’ll match my stubbornness against an animal’s any day. We zigzagged back and forth, off the road into the ditch on one side, then off into a field on the other side, until I had her about three-quarters of the way there.
Young Jersey Calves
Then she made her move. She took a few steps toward the ditch on the left, then when my guard was down, she bolted to my right. I sprinted that way in a desperate attempt to cut her off, and got about three steps before I went face-down on the ice. While I checked myself for broken parts and brushed the mud off my clothes (yes, I found mud somehow, on a ten-degree day), she wandered back the way we came.
Then I wised up and had Angel get out and help me, and we drove her the direction she wanted to go in the first place, toward the gate at the uphill end of the field. (Animals always seem to prefer being driven uphill; I don’t know why.) Maybe she used up all her moves shedding me the first time, because she went right along without any trouble this time.
Once all the excitement was over and we were walking back to the truck, I realized my right thumb was hurting. I took off my glove and saw it was bleeding a little, but it was also jammed pretty good. It ached and started swelling the rest of the night while we were out visiting, but I was more annoyed with the mud I couldn’t get off my shirt.
Today, it doesn’t just ache a little; it hurts to touch anything with it. There’s no bruise (I never bruise, at least not close enough to the surface to see it), but it’s swollen and I can’t bend it. I guess I’m lucky it’s the one digit you don’t use to type, or I’d be having a hard time at the keyboard. Thumbs are one of those things you take for granted; it’s hard to turn a doorknob or pull a plate out of the cupboard with just your fingers. I’ll pack some ice on it tonight, and hope it relaxes some by tomorrow. It doesn’t keep me from typing, but the ache is distracting; I keep wanting to mess with it and loosen it up somehow.
