It was the best one yet!

Every since this--->

came home, I've been feeling the pressure!  It goes so well in my kitchen that I must win again next year.  So I've spent many, many moments thinking about PIE!   (Judy F., the previous sentence was not an inside joke between you and me...but I'm giggling anyway.)

This week has been filled with sleepless nights comprised of endless searches of all things PIE.  I looked around cooking blogs, perused punchfork until dawn, fast forwarded through hundreds of episodes of The Cooking Channel's programs.  I finally settled on a peach blackberry thing.  I spent the better part of the day with Shelly getting hay in Canon City.

The whole ride into town, she's promising me a stop at the grocery so I could pick up a few things.  Instead the closest I got to a store with food for purchase was Burger King.  After Burger King, she headed straight to Colon Orchards and loaded up hay.  She ended up with a few more big bales than she had originally planned.

Since this was Tom Truck's first haul since his upgrade (recall the blog about our trip to Denver to offload the sheep) Shelly decided that we'd better make haste and head up the hill.  For a split second I thought I'd slip a few apples into my bag when I was letting Izzy out to use the little girl's room.  The apples didn't look ready and I left my bag at home and I really don't need any negative Karma.  So I loaded my dog and my bad attitude and away we went.

Upon our arrival home, Shelly started whining about lunch.  I'm convinced it's a conditioned response with her.  We make the turn into the driveway and she starts salivating like Pavlov's dog.  Izzy and I walked to the house from the barn.  I'm supposed to be thinking about lunch but instead, I'm trying to remember what I have in the pantry so I can make a pie.  Izzy steps on me several times, as she's bounding from gopher hole to prairie dog hole.  I decide on steak, rice and broccoli for a lunch/dinner meal.  Things are going along swimmingly.  I get the food made and even manage to start some laundry.  As I finish grilling the steak and let Shelly know that she can some feed her face, I hear the buzzer on the dryer.  I set my steak on a plate to let it rest and head downstairs to fold the clothes.  I head back up the stairs when I'm done, thinking to myself, "Since I've made a large meal for lunch, I can skip making dinner and instead make a PIE."

As I top the stairs I see my lurch of a dog, standing in the kitchen licking her lips.  I think nothing of it until I see the plate.  There is no steak to be found.  The plate hasn't moved.  I know that Izzy has sucked it down.  Taco Dog and Virus Dog have not moved from their usual positions.  Not only did she inhale my entire hunk of meat but she didn't even share with her siblings.

I was so frustrated that I gave Izzy the stink eye.  I had lost my appetite.  I decided that a little alone time would probably be a good idea.  I headed down to the cow pasture to check on Jenny Cow.  Jenny Cow is expected to deliver her first calf in late July.  She's already showing signs of the coming baby with a filling udder and cocked tail.  I brought her up to the milking barn to get some extra cookies and a good brushing.  Jenny and I chatted about her upcoming due date and all the glorious milk she was going to give us.

After our time together I headed home and started baking.  I made a batch of shortbread cookies, let them cool and then smashed them for a crust.  Then I smooshed about 7.2 recipes together in my head and filled the crust with apples and some other yummy stuff.  I pull the pie from the oven and set it in the microwave to cool.  I start making a caramel whipped cream.  As the cream is getting fluffy in the stand mixer, Shelly asks me if the pie will be ready before we go to bed.  I decide to place the pie in the fridge to cool it quickly.  As I'm moving a jar of pickles to the side the unthinkable happens.  I drop the pie! 

Apparently, it was cool enough as Izzy managed to slurp up several mouthfuls before she realized that I was unhappy about the situation.  I scooped the remaining pie into the pig bucket and sulked away to their pen.  I came back to the house and realized that I had forgotten about the cream being whipped in the stand mixer.  I now have caramel butter.

I'm telling you that pie was the best pie I have ever made.  I have no idea what I put in it, what temperature I baked it at, or for how long.  It is forever lost because someone put the pickles in the wrong place in the fridge.

Spa Day at Rolling Thunder

Today was haircut, pedicure, and dental day at Rolling Thunder Ranch.  Lots of pictures as I'm too pooped to write much.  Things went pretty swimmingly anyway.  We were done earlier than previous years as we didn't have too many sheep this year.  It was however, our first year for the alpacas and llamas.  We've had a couple llamas for many years.  We purchased them to guard the sheep and goats, to which they have done an outstanding job.  Since we now have alpacas, it was high time that our guard llamas got a good spa day too.  I don't recognize some of them now.  Mama Llama feels like a new woman and a couple of the alpacas went right out and had a swim in the stock tank.  Weird creatures!

 Copenhagen with a new do!

 Fowler getting his very first shear.  He chatted through the whole thing.

 Fowler and his harem after their appointment.

 Rose

 Pencil neck alpacas.

 Shelly lining up the next one.

 Teeth trimming.

 No spitting allowed.

 Aren't we lovely?

 Heave!  HO!

 Maya before

 Zoom!

 Oreo was very vocal and her sock was green when it was over.

 Oreo afterward

 Mama Llama

 The Sheep had their turn too!

 Thelma

 Of course Nubie!

Mama Llama was in heaven.  She'll probably stay clear of any human until next year at this time.  Nice to see her happy!

Great Day!

Yesterday Shelly and I were scheduled to take a group of ewes and a ram and a few lambs to a buyer in Denver.  Where in Denver we weren't exactly sure.  I love trips that include the phrase "not exactly sure" (typed with a sarcastic font).  Shelly got the ewes and the ram loaded with no problems.  I was loading the baby lambs into a kennel when one of the ewes started rubbing on Shelly.  Shelly got a little emotional and explained that the ewe was her favorite, she was docile and would come up to her frequently and rub on her.  The ewe is about a 172 years old and would surely be taken to sale and sold off as mutton.  Shelly gave me that look.  Needless to say the ewe stayed home.  She will become a companion to Shelly's ram Nubie.  I can't say no to that look. 

The first part of the trip went fine.  Other than Izzy Dog's gas problem, it was great as far as a road trip to the city with a "not exactly sure" destination goes.  I demanded a stop in Castle Rock for cherry dip cone at the DQ.  I figured it was the least Shelly could do since I gave the ewe a reprieve.  Just inside of Denver we were able to contact the buyer of the ovine and got directions to his ranch.  The offloading of the sheep went swimmingly and we headed out as quickly as we arrived.  The trip home was going smoothly or so I thought.  I didn't need a stop in Castle Rock but as Colorado Springs neared and began to feel the pressure of the three or so gallons of ice tea that I had consumed.  I was telling Shelly that I would need a pit stop and Shelly was ignoring me.  She was ignoring me and I smelled smoke.  She was thinking about something.  When I started to say something again she shushed me.  I turned my attention to the sound of the truck.  It didn't seem to be shifting as smooth as it should.  Shelly pulled into a gas station with a large empty lot next to it.  I went to the restroom.  Upon my return, I was informed that Tom Truck had 1st gear and reverse.  My cell phone (Shelly left hers at home) has been demanding that I plug in my charger eons ago.  With what juice was left on the cell, we called a tow company.   The company's dispatcher asked what kind of truck we had.  Shelly emphatically replied with, "A really big, heavy truck."  Love her technical terms.  I would have probably said that Tom Truck was a one ton, diesel with a crew cab and a long bed.  But heck, it wasn't me on the phone.  In the next ten minutes, my cell phone received 7 automated messages from the tow company letting us know that there was a truck on the way to our location. 

The wrecker arrived in about 20 minutes.  I was impressed, for a moment.  The driver got out of his truck, looked at us, looked at Tom Truck, looked at us again and shrugged his shoulders.  He asked Shelly if she told the dispatcher that she had a big truck.  Shelly nodded and said yes.  He walked around the truck several times.  Then he backed up and loaded Tom Truck up.

As the rollback came into position, the wrecker bobbled about and gave my heart a bit of a jump.  The driver then walked around the two trucks several times.  He then went to the front of the wrecker and stared at the front tires.  After a few minutes of staring, he called his dispatch and requested a different truck.  The driver pointed out to Shelly that the front tires were not putting enough tread on the ground.  Tom Truck was too heavy and in my opinion too long.  The driver unloaded the truck.  While we stood waiting for another driver and wrecker, our rescuer Moe Moe showed up with our Tahoe.  The wrecker driver assured us that they would get Tom Truck to the shop we requested so we hooked up the trailer, with our dogs in the back and headed up the hill.  We had giggles on the way home and made it home in time to enjoy more giggles at dinner with friends.  The whole event with the tow truck made me miss my father.  Pop operated a towing service for several years, in fact he was loading a car onto his own wrecker in Florissant when he had his first heart attack.  Pop went into the gas station he was at, told the clerk he was having trouble catching his breath, requested that she make a phone call to 911, and went back outside and finished loading the car.  He said he had just finished when he noticed the fire department and a Flight For Life helicopter landing on the highway. 

Today we had planned a trip to the zoo with friends.  Thankfully!  This last week has been a whirlwind.  Jolene finished school for the year.  She was voted the most likely to appear on Fear Factor.  This was something I was not surprised by.  We also jetted to Pueblo on Thursday evening to watch Jolene's first softball games of the season.  I was very excited.  Shelly was cranky and Jolene was full of worry.  Thankfully it all ended up just great.  Shelly only consumed a bag of sunflower seeds, three tacos at Chipolte, two hot dogs at the game and three bottles of Gatorade. 

The kid is playing 3rd base and Shortstop this year.  It's a huge change for me.  Jolene played catcher most of the time last year and I REALLY enjoyed taking pictures.  Maybe it just these particular games, they won by 18-0 and 16-2, but I find watching her play 3rd base really boring.

The zoo was a great distraction from the hustle of the last week and the upcoming plans for this week.  Shelly and are members of the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo in Colorado Springs.  We haven't been able to go as much lately as I'd like.  Occasionally we just stop by and feed the giraffes.  They are Shelly's favorite and they are right inside the entrance.  Today I purchased a frequent feeder card for her.  According to the website you can save 25%, and I'm all about saving the green.  I figured she's use at least half of the punches today and it might be incentive to get away again soon.  I thought wrong.  Shelly used up the entire punch card today.  It was well worth it though.

Each time we go I debate as to whether or not I should take my camera.  For some reason I think lugging it around is way too much work.  I'm glad I took it today.  I only got pictures at the giraffes but reliving Shelly's facial expressions is always good fun. 

Okay I lied.  I did get this picture of Shelly and Jim enjoying the mist machine.  It makes me giggle too, and you can't beat that. 

We are scheduled to have the sheep, alpacas and llamas sheared on Wednesday.  I'm hoping that I will get a frantic phone call from someone and that someone will require that I leave the ranch for the daylight hours.  I hate shearing.  Uncle Dario has been giving the haircuts the past couple of years and the only reason I hung around was so that I could visit with Uncle and my Aunt Lori.  This year Uncle came to his senses and scheduled a fishing trip or something so we have a new shearing company coming. 

Other than that things are about the same around here.  We continue to have a long list of  "To Dos" and not enough days in the week to get them all done. 

I Almost Did It Again!

So, I almost did it again.  I almost slacked off another month without posting.  Ya know, life on the ole ranch is just so boring.  I'm such a liar.

I scheduled this season's first Chicken Pluckin' Party for the 11th.  I conned Friend Avril into taking part and begged and pleaded with Friend Gerri to show up.  Gerri has full knowledge of the days events and the worst part is she knows exactly how Shelly and I bicker when it comes to harvesting the birds.  She still shows up.  What an extraordinary person she is.  The only thing I have to report about the pluckin' is that it was a complete nightmare.  We initially set up at the old barn near the coops.  The day before it was sunny and warm with just the right amount of breeze.  The morning of the harvest it was gray, overcast and wet.  So we frantically moved to the big barn where we would be inside out of the weather.  The Boss Lady was working dogs out front and asked that we block the blood from her one and only attendee to herding that day.  The only other person that was working dogs that day showed up with 5 ducks for us to process.  I don't do ducks.  I don't do ducks because I LOVE ducks.  I was called Duck in my youth, starting in grade school and it ended up sticking through much of college.  I'm not sure why it started.  It's not a stretch to go from Dawn to Dawnold and then add the duck to it.  I also swam a lot, so maybe it was a combination of things.  At any rate, I've always loved ducks.  I'm not a fan of birds.  The flapping feathers really freak me out.  I like to watch ducks fly only because I think they look really uncomfortable in the air and then of course smooth and awesome on the water.  My first tattoo is of a duck.  The tattoo itself sucks, it's blurry (I got in the water just hours after getting it) but I know what it is and refuse to have it fixed or tattooed over. 

I've field dressed a duck but never processed one like we would process our chickens.  The ducks were the least of our problems though.  I had arranged to have a family from Colorado Springs bring their 16 Cornish Rock birds down for us to process.  The family showed up with nice big wonderful birds, right on time.  We zipped through the 16 with no problem.  The family paid us $5 per head for our trouble and zipped back to the city.  About 2.7 minutes after they left the plucker decided it was time for a break.  We had belt problems, finger problems, just a lot of problems.  I only manged to get 30 of my birds done that day before we called it quits.  We decided to replace the belt and a few other things and try it again in a few days.  We still had five ducks running around that hated each other.  Shelly stalled the ducks in two groups in hopes of suppressing the violence.  As I was leaving the barn the nice lady that brought the ducks instructed me to order her 10 or 15 more!  I miss out on so much communication sometimes.  Apparently the Boss Lady told her that I'd be happy to get more ducks for her.  The dogs use the ducks to practice herding and now since she was going to eat these five she would need more, naturally.  I just nodded and smiled.

 Avril sucked it up and came over again on the 15th when we tried to again to finish the pluckin'.  We did about 30 more chickens and quit again.  This time I need to replace the fingers and get a smaller belt.  I really don't know what went wrong as I tend to stay away from the scalding water and the plucker and concentrate on getting the innards-->Out!  The remaining birds from the first batch are living with the birds from the second batch.  If they don't keel over from being too big for their hearts and lungs and are still able to stand when we harvest the second go round, they will meet their maker then.  Nightmare I tell you!

Other happenings around the ranch included the birth of Chloe's babies.  Chloe came to us from a friend in Guffey who couldn't keep her contained.  She jumps fences. She doesn't go under them or break them, she just jumps right over.  For the most part she's a really good goat.  Most days when we'd do chores she'd jump the fence and tag along.  She'd follow the truck around the ranch getting a mouthful of whatever we might have.  If she didn't like who she was pastured with she'd just jump out and find another pasture.  She's been in with the sheep, the donkeys, the llamas and cows too.  About 2 months ago I stuck her in the barn with the goats that are in milk.  The Boss Lady was out working dogs and Chloe was in the way so I stuck her in a stall.  When I went to let her out later in the afternoon I noticed that her udder had gotten larger so I made the assumption that she was pregnant.  She continued to jumps fences but not at the same frequency.  One day she jumped into the run with the milking does and stayed.  Her udder continued to get larger.  One morning I checked on her on my way to work and she was displaying the stereo typical signs of a goat in labor.  I called Shelly once I arrived at work.  Whenever a goat kids and Shelly is home alone, it's almost certain that those babies will end up in the house being bottle fed.  Shelly decided she was a little freaked out and called Friend Avril (who we seem to be sticking into every situation we can find), and she came and birthed those babies while Shelly did chores at the other ranch. 

 I've no idea who the daddy is but I'm leaning toward Ole as the little boy has wattles.  Avril did a fine job.  She and Geri have been such a bright light in our life lately.  We've been invited to dinner on multiple occasions and they aren't shy about sharing hugs.  Good things! 

Avril said she invites us to dinner so that she can watch Shelly wolf down a burger.  It is rather amusing.  I guess I'm over the thrill of it. 

The kiddo's school also held their Spring Program this last month.  Instead of having a little sing and dance the middle school displayed their talents via a "Who Done It" much like the game of Clue.  A scenario was presented and participants could get clues from the students.  In addition to giving clues the murder of the town's mayor, Monster the Cat the students also shared information about organs and organ systems.  This year in school they studied biology.  Jolene and her friend Molly displayed a calf heart.  Jolene picked the name Sara Bellum for her character's name which I thought was very clever.  In addition to the program the 8th grade students also presented their projects.  Each year the 8th graders must complete a project that they spend the entire school year working on.  It had many components including a student initiated project, a visual art, community service, a life skill and the student's biography.  Jolene was selected as a team member for her friend Kayla.   I thoroughly enjoyed all of the 8th graders presentations.  Jolene wanted to wear her usual attire of a shorts and a hoodie sweatshirt but I played the Mom Card and vetoed her wardrobe choice.  She was still able to go in style, according to her, with a TIE!  What am I doing?

Shelly also had a birthday this month.  We didn't do anything spectacular for it.  We did spend time with Avril and Geri drinking beer on their back porch and then jetted to dinner at the Bull Moose Restaurant and Bar in Guffey.  Shelly wolfed down a burger much to Avril's delight.  Shelly's not much of a drinker.  Obviously more than I am, a six pack of near beer will last me a good year.  I usually cook with it before I drink it.  At any rate, between happy hour on the back porch and dinner Shelly had consumed 7 beers.  Way over her normal rate of alcohol intake.  She was giggly and a little too touchy-feelly on the way home. Once we got home she promptly washed her face, brushed her teeth and passed out in bed.  Several hours later she was thanking the Goddess for indoor plumbing.  She was up several times through the night and even called Boss Lady the next morning and begged off dog chores.  Staying close to the toilet was all she did the next day.  I didn't mind.  She works hard and deserves a day off once in awhile.  I just wish it could have been a different kind of day off.  Not one where I had to do her chores but one where we could have wasted time together.  It all came back to haunt her though.  The next day I had to artificially inseminate a handful of cows including Brownie Cow.  Our Vet, Dr. Hill got a cushy job far away.  Before she left she had lined up Neighbor Brenda's cows, my cow and three others for AI-ing.  Since we'd all prepped our bovines and didn't want to waste the work already done I was elected to impregnate the beasts.  What luck I have!  So I spent the next two days with my left hand in a shoulder length glove and Shelly had to play assistant and keep the prepared straws of semen warm in her armpit.  It is really unfortunate that I did not get any pictures.  Twice Shelly was able to squirt semen extender in my face.

So that about warps up this month.  The chickens and I are really looking forward to the summer season.  I'm not sure why, things never seem to slow down. 

Slacker!

I'm horrible.  I didn't write a single blog for the month of April.  I could lie and tell you April was boring month with nothing to blog about.  That I was able to catch up on daytime TV, that the ranch ran on schedule with nothing to report.  I could tell you that we didn't have any babies born and that the chickens regularly popped out eggs. 

Well here's the truth:

About six months ago Randy Ram the handsome Mini Cheviot Sheep broke into the group of sheep that Boss Lady uses train dogs.  Handsome Randy stayed in the pasture with the working group for four or five days without being noticed.  I don't know how he did this.  I think he may have been using a secret knock and a creaky stairway to get in with the girls each night and then would return to his house on the hill by morning light.  However he slipped under the radar is a mystery.  Okay that's a lie too.  We saw him repeatedly pounding his hard head against what he thought was a weak point in the fence.  After several days of the human kind shrugging off his migraine induced behavior, the ovine made a breakthrough.   The result of Randy's persistence came five months later in the form of 11 mixed breed lambs all with Randy's head.  So I've spend the last month feeding bummer lambs.  About a month before his progeny showed up we sold Randy and his harem to a couple in Rocky Ford.  I do miss him but now I have a whole mess of little Randys to gawk at.

 

Gerri's kiddo Taylor came and snuggled a few of the bummers one afternoon.  

 Gerri and Taylor also took home PorkChop Goat so Taylor could ready him for fair this summer.  Since I hadn't communicated efficiently with Gerri about when to band his jewels, he went home intact.  Gerri had a short time to humanely separate PorkChop from his boys.  On the day of weigh in, she texted me the picture above.   Crazy Blonde!

 Cinderella one of the Nigerian Dwarf Goats kidded as well.  Her pregnancy and subsequent delivery were a well thought out and executed plan.  She did throw me off and bit and popped the babies out two days before I had calculated.  She was getting quite large and rotund and the ramp up to the condo was becoming seemingly longer and longer.  So I set up a crate for her in the basement for nights and opened up the labor and delivery pen in front of the house.  I scooted Cindy and her sister Aurora into the pen one sunny afternoon and Aurora promptly jumped out.  So poor Cindy was alone in her pre-delivery.  As evening came, I bedded her crate with straw, provided her with hay and a couple bites of chow.  Cindy is full of personality.  She is too good for human touches, stomps at the dogs and stargazes regularly.  She is the obvious leader of the tribe of Nigerians.  She did give Aurora specific instructions about ruling her realm in her absence.  She was lead into the house with ease but voiced her distaste with the crate very loudly, even while eating the chow.  She stomped at each dog as they passed by en route to their own crates.  The dogs are no longer concerned or care the least bit about a new animal in the house.  It's all old news now.  When the dogs were tucked in, Shelly and flopped ourselves down for a good 40 winks as well.  Cindy continued to vocalize her disgust with the accommodations for 20 or 30 minutes more and then all was quiet.  So quiet that I overslept until Tara Dog sounded the "let me out I have to PEE" alarm.  As I headed down the stairs in a robe and fuzzy socks, Tara Dog is still shouting.  I'm hurling insults at her as I go.  I round the corner and find Cindy has kidded two beautiful creatures.  

Both kids are cleaned and nursing and poor Cindy's crate is a mess.  Tara Dog continues to scream so I scoot her out the door and then do some screaming of my own in an attempt to get Shelly out of bed to help me.  I have no idea when she popped those babies out.  My guess is it happened in the 20-30 minutes of vocal outbursts before I went to bed.  When I left her she showed no signs of labor and her vocalizations weren't of the urgent nature.  Knowing Cindy it happened after midnight and rather than wake a human who may coo at her and love and pet her during delivery, she chose to do it silently during the night with only the dogs looking on.  Maybe she's a Scientology goat as I know they like to have their babies in silence.  Maybe aliens abducted me sometime in the night.   Whatever happened, we have two healthy baby girls and very good mama tending to them.  Neighbor Susanne put her name on a doeling months ago.  We opted to give her the darker one as we already have two dark colored Nigerians.  So based on color alone we chose to keep the lighter colored one.  Shallow I know.  Susanne has named her new kid, Patchouli and after much family discussion we named our new addition, Betty.  My grandmother was Betty Jean, the youngest of 11 and called Babe by her siblings.  Somewhere in the middle of tossing names around an image of her baking cookies flashed in my mind, so Betty was chosen.  Mama and babies continue to do fine.  Jolene has decided that Patchouli had a unique hair-do for a goat.  

 We've had other additions too.  Along with Flower the lamb you read about in the last blog, I acquired a La Mancha kid from my friend Nicole at Sunflower Valley Dairy.  She has been named PITA which stands for "Pain in the A**."  She is living up to her name just fine.  PITA and Flower are now rooming with Cindy and her kids.

 The chickens are loving the sunny days.  We had a bit of a snow the other day and the day after was like Mardi Gras.  A whole bunch of chicks running amok showing off their breasts and bugging out.  I guess that last sentence could be taken the wrong way.  There were a lot of bugs and worms on the surface and the birds were indulging.  

 Russell Crow continues to run after anything that he feels might harm his flock.  I've caught him chasing the truck several times.  Such a beautiful guy.

 Our old windmill has finally come down.  When I moved to the ranch 7 years ago it was still standing tall and intact.  It would creak and squeak in the wind.  One day the creaking and squeaking stopped.  We found that part of it had fallen off but the main structure was still standing.  After the last snow all of it toppled over.  Makes me sad but at the same time I'm accepting it as a sign.  It's time to start new projects, to see through new ideas. 

All in all it's pretty much the same around here.  We are harvesting our first batch of broiler chickens tomorrow.  I promise to be better at getting posts up sooner.

Here's to happiness!  Cheers!