Every year I get out my special Thanksgiving decorations.  They are a homely group of items:

A tablecloth and pilgrim candles of my mothers

A set of pilgrims our daughter Kimberly made in the Second Grade

A Mayflower Evan made in the Second Grade

A turkey our oldest daughter Shannon made in the Third Grade

A pinecone turkey (with googlie eyes) our youngest daughter Misty made in the First Grade

I’ve added some toy ‘dancing’ turkeys that the grandchildren love

and a flower bouquet just for me.

This is my Thanksgiving…a blessing of memories from those I love.

I also want to wish each and every one of you a Special Thanksgiving day.   I will not be posting again until Monday as we are putting up the frame for the barn and we will be a wee bit busy. 

Another rather nice thing is I DO NOT HAVE TO COOK!  

YEAH!  Hip Hip Hooray! 

Oh!  Sorry! Shouldn’t have expressed such elated joy.

BUT! OH! WELL!!! 

I don’t have to cook….YEAH!

Happy Thanksgiving, Dear Friends!

Linda

That little tiny dot is my grandfather walking over to the cafe.  His truck is parked by the fruit stand for unloading fruit.

I’m in the stand, but you wouldn’t know it. 

That was my job in 1958, manning the fruit stand.  I’m sure  I didn’t do a very good job, but I felt important.

 This is a 60 acre fruit farm, complete with cherries, apples, prunes, blood plums and pears.  The 10 acres (you can’t see) are pasture for the milk cow and her calf. 

I lived with my parents at the edge of the cherry orchard.

Today, if you were to drive by this place on your way to either Eckert, or Cedaredge, or Grand Mesa, Colorado, all you would see would be houses.  Everything is gone.

Not a tree or orchard anywhere.  Just houses and houses and more houses.

Progress always moves forward and the older you get, the past always seems better.

Linda

This past week has been amazingly over-whelming.

Non-stop at work, meeting after meetings, deadlines that compound the stress load, plus everyday life at home.

Since we are paid per day, the economy drove our college to cutting our days, therefore in July I went from 235 days to 210 days.

The three day weekend is nice…I have lots more time to get home things done, but the four days at work …. Well I really need an eight-day week.

Anyone know how I can create one?

But back to the silver lining… our oldest daughter is a 

Cosmetologist  (Hair Dresser) and works in Grand Junction. We don’t get to see her very much.

So in turn for Terry a hair cut we fed her supper. A win-win all the way around.

I first got this recipe from GP at Musing from Montana a delightful site full of great horse logic, recipes, and thoughts on running an Inn in Montana, and her before life in the city.  A fun read!

So last night I thought I would give it a good try.  Fuzzy loved them!  I now have Christmas ideas for my doggie friends!

Molasses Dog Biscuits

2 cups cornmeal

2 eggs

2 Tablespoons molasses

2 cloves garlic

½ cup chicken broth

 ½ cup powdered milk

Preheat oven to 400º. In a large mixing bowl combine all the ingredients. Blend until smooth. Roll this mixture out ¼ inch thick and cut into shapes or shape into dog biscuits by hand. Place 1 inch apart on a greased cookie sheet. Bake for 20 minutes until golden brown.

So then I proceeded to try these out, in the fire hydrant shape.

Dog Cheddar Cheese Crackers

1/2 pound cheddar cheese, grated

1 12/ c flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 pound butter or margarine softened

1 glove garlic minced

Enough milk to moisten the dough

Cream the room temperature cheese and margarine

Add egg and garlic, mix well

Stir in flour and salt until dough forms

Add milk

Chill for one hour. (But I didn’t).  Roll into balls and shape.

Bake at 400* until the edges turn brown.

YUMMM!

Just like the weatherman predicted a major winter storm hit our area this weekend.

Bringing with it lovely large wet white snowflakes and bitter cold. 

We did 5:30 a.m. chores in 16* temperatures. 

I’ve given up on Thanksgiving (even some of the trees still have their leaves)

and have decided I’m going to enjoy this winter wonderland.

It’s starting to feel a lot like Christmas…tra la la la today.

I grew up as a cow dog, just the cowboy and me.  That’s how it was. Just us and the cows. 

 Then one day the cowboy’s family took me for a ride in the car…I love riding in the car(not so much anymore-it makes me really nervous, but Mom still takes me so I can gain confidence)—- getting into the car wasn’t too bad.  Then suddenly they stopped the car and pushed me out and Drove Off real fast.  I tried to follow for a little while, but soon gave up and went back to the spot where they pushed me out of the car.

 I waited at the spot for three weeks, never leaving it for fear they would come back to get me and I would be off somewhere and miss them.  Boy did I get hungry! Whew!

But I stood firm.  I waited.

Mom and Misty kept trying to get me.  Mom said she wanted me to come live with her, but I KNEW cowboy would be back so I ran from Mom and Misty all the time.

Then one day, when my belly met my backbone, Misty came out with a slice of roast beef. I LOVE ROAST BEEF!  Just love it!  And I was hungry.  Well, hungry wasn’t the word for it. So I let them feed me.  And the rest is history.

 I’ve been with Mom and Dad now for four years.  It’s good here.  I like it here.  I’m the head of security for the farm!  It’s my job to watch for people coming down the driveway, check out trespassing dogs and scaring deer.  I’m 10 years old now, but that doesn’t stop me doing my work.  ‘Course when I sleep inside, which I really like to do, I sometimes miss stuff.  Mom says it’s alright because I sleep right by her side of the bed(on the floor) and protect her from things that go bump in the night.

I have lots of work to do, I help haul hay (riding on top of the haystack is my favorite thing to do) Mom doesn’t let me do it very often, and never to a delivery, but I would if I could.

I really like to run by (in-front) of the four-wheeler and check water or head over the pastures and check on the cows…that’s the best. 

There is always news out there, that I just can’t get guarding the farm yard.  Boy is there some interesting stuff to learn out there.

I’m a very important dog, heck I’m the only dog (besides Checkers, but she is Misty’s dog) so that makes me V.E.R.Y. important. I’m responsible for helping Mom put the chickens up at night, killing snakes and mice.  Why Misty even calls me to come down to her house and kill the mice that slip inside.  I’m a good mouse killer. And no, I don’t eat them.  That’s the cat’s job.

I’m really good at barking at the deer. Dad says I need to chase the deer away.  I don’t understand why he doesn’t see that I do.   There aren’t any deer in the yard, ever!  Now the corn fields and the hay fields are just too big to keep them out of so I settle for the yard.  It more in keeping with my size.

Besides it’s getting a little hard to keep running, my Doctor says I have arthritis so most of the time now I get to RIDE with Mom on the Four-Wheeler.  That is fun!  That is real fun!  It’s as much fun as riding in the back of the pick-up.  Well, maybe it’s funner-I get to see where I’m going on the four-wheeler. 

Anyway, I thought I would stop by once in awhile and visit with each of you.  I have lots of stories to tell, you know how it is when you get old.  So come on back and visit and I’ll tell you about some of things I’ve learned in my long years of living.  I’ll also let you see the farm from my side of the fence!

FuzzyDoodle McDoodle Dude Brown

It is time to think about weaning this year’s calves.  We typically wait until the calves are between 7 and 8 months old.  We like to have the calves with the Mom’s as long as possible for several reasons….Momma’s train their babies on safe practices, where the best grazing spots are, how to fight off coyotes and wild dogs, that the people who feed you are good to be around, and most of all provide the nutritional benefit of milk.

Since weaning can be a stressful time for both the calves and the cows.  The traditional method involves removing all the calves at one time, putting them in a pen out of sight (and out of hearing range) from their mothers, and then letting them settle down over the next few days.  When that happens we have a chorus of mooing that goes on for a long time.  Day and Night!

It works but it is stressful for both the cows and the calves and me.  I hate hearing the longing in their voices.  But babies do need to grow-up, and this is a necessary practice.

After years and years of doing it the loud way, we started doing a thing called soft weaning where the calves are removed from the cow herd and allowed to stay in an adjacent pen where they are in full view of their Moms.  Once they are separated the cow and calf will often lie together on different sides of the fence and be much more relaxed than if they were completely separated.  After a few days we make the main break moving the calves to their new place and the Mom’s back out on the pasture. We can do this because we have a very small herd.  Very small! 

Weaning is an important part of over-all health of the Mother and the calf.  Otherwise the Mom will keep on nursing her full-grown calf even after she has another calf.  Not good.  Cows are the eternal Earth Mother: they just can never stop taking care of their babies.

If tomorrow all the things were gone I’d worked for all my life,
And I had to start again with just my children and my wife.
I’d thank my lucky stars to be living here today,
‘Cause the flag still stands for freedom and they can’t take that away.

(Peter Edward Doyle WWI–National Guard, my paternal Grandfather)

And I’m proud to be an American where at least I know I’m free.
And I won’t forget the men who died, who gave that right to me.
And I’d gladly stand up next to you and defend her still today.
‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land God bless the U.S.A.

(William Hobson Thomas, WWI  my maternal grandfather)
From the lakes of Minnesota, to the hills of Tennessee,
across the plains of Texas, from sea to shining sea,
From Detroit down to Houston and New York to LA,
Well, there’s pride in every American heart,
and it’s time to stand and say:

(Lester Allen Doyle, WWII  My Father)

I’m proud to be an American where at least I know I’m free.
And I won’t forget the men who died, who gave that right to me.
And I’d gladly stand up next to you and defend her still today.
‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land God bless the U.S.A.

Lee Greenwood

(Evan Tyrrell Brown, Desert Storm  My Son!)

Thank you, ONE and ALL, for my Freedom!  I wear my poppy proud for all you have given to me!

Linda

What a happy day this is…JUST PLAIN HAPPY! 

Oh, let’s see, I need to start at the beginning, which was last night when Mom came home from work.  Usually she lets us out of the hen house and the chicken yard to run in her yard, take dust baths, and eat whatever we can find until we just get too sleepy and have to hit the roost.

But last night didn’t happen like it was supposed to; we were waiting at the hen house door, flying up and pecking on the windows so she would know we were ready to fly the coop.  When Dad’s pick-up backed up to the door (that is scary of and in itself we ALWAYS Yell and run/fly fast away from the pick-up—those tires are BIG).  

Well, anyway Dad backed up the pick-up and Mom showed up at the door with THE STICK!  The stick always means business. Like- ‘no you can’t go outside the stick is blocking the door, or no you can’t fly and peck on each other’, because Mom doesn’t like bickering and fighting, you know…THE STICK! 

We’ve never been hit with the stick, Mom doesn’t hit, she just puts the stick right in front of our eyes or taps us on the back and says “NO” and we stop.  Works every time!   We stop doing whatever we are doing.

So Mom comes in with the stick, we back away from the door, she shuts the door to the chicken yard and grabs ONE OF THE MEANIES!  Then she goes to the door and gives the MEANIE to Dad.  This goes on until all of the MEANIES plus a few others are gone.  Dad has them. 

We are all nervous now, we fly and flap and squawk and run under the roost, but that didn’t stop Mom she wasn’t afraid of the poop under there, Nervous Nettie thought that would stop Mom, but Mom just went under and grabbed THE MEANIEST OF THE MEANIES and then….that was it.

Mom opened the door to the chicken yard, opened the door to the hen house and left.  I rushed to the window and looked out whereby I saw Mom get into the pick-up with Dad and they drove out of the yard.  All ten of the MEAN hens were in the back of the pick-up in the DOG CARRIER!  (Sorry no photos…Mom FOR ONCE didn’t have the camera)

THEY WERE GOING TO TOWN!  I wanted to go to town!  I have NEVER been to town.  THIS ISN’T FAIR!  I WANT A TURN!!!!!!!

After awhile we all decided this isn’t so bad, everyone who didn’t get to go to town were all my friends: Cluck-Cluck (that hen NEVER shuts up! She even purrs in her sleep), Nervous Nettie, Beautiful Edna, Ruby Wonder Hen, Lucky Lucie, and ME! 

When Mom came back we were too sleepy to go outside.  But I dreamed that all the mean hens went to live somewhere where there was already snow on the ground, but it was a really nice place and they got to go outside all the time, not just when Mom decided.

Mom always comes to check on us before she goes to work so I asked her where everyone went and she told me that a lady friend of hers wanted some chickens so Mom gave her the mean girls so us nice girls could relax and lay lots of eggs without being pecked on. 

What a nice Mom. 

Everyone won. (And they did go to live way up on the side of Grand Mesa and there really was snow on the ground, and they really do get to go outside All Day Long.) 

I think I’m really going to like this. 

I really think I am.

Honey Hen

We had to take a break on the new barn…work got in the way…but Saturday Terry and I started moving the steel we’ve been ‘collecting’ over the years.

Sometimes Terry whishes that he had just bought a steel building, but then he gets out there and starts working on this project and is glad he didn’t.

If something is done everyday….it might be done before spring work. (That’s our little joke)

As always, Sammy-Sam liked to help!