Booking It, Part II

On Stephanie's blog, Pointed Meanderings, she posted a questionairre about books. Since I love books, though I just realized I rarely talk about them on my blog, which I should probably remedy, I wanted to get in on the action.

What was the last book you bought? Brsinger, by Christopher Paolini

Name a book you have read MORE than once.
Oh my...I have several. Watership Down by Richard Adams, The Stand by Stephen King.

Has a book ever fundamentally changed the way you see life?
If yes, what was it? Yes, The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards, and most of Barbara Kingsolver's books.

How do you choose a book? eg. by cover design and summary, recommendations or reviews. Mostly personal recommendations, though every once in a while a review will catch my eye. And I'm also a sucker for a good cover, though I try not to let that sway me.

Do you prefer Fiction or Non-Fiction?
Definately fiction...it's my escape from real life for a while, though I did recently enjoy reading Last Child in the Woods; Saving our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder by Richard Louv and Doc Susie; The Tue Story of a Country Physician in the Colorado Rockies by Virginia Cornell.

What’s more important in a novel - beautiful writing or a gripping plot?
Both are important...cruddy writing can ruin the best plot, and beautiful writing can't make up for a cruddy plot. But, I'd rather have mediocre writing with a good plot than nothing.

Most loved/memorable character (character/book):
Hazel in Watership Down, Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the Harry Potter series, Stu Redman in The Stand, Rosie the elephant in Water for Elephants.

Which book or books can be found on your nightstand at the moment?
Child 44 by Tom Rob Smith

What was the last book you’ve read, and when was it?
Just finished Brsinger, by Christopher Paolini...third in a series which I mistakenly THOUGHT was wrapping up with this book...*sigh*...and Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns, which ALSO has a sequel.

Have you ever given up on a book half way in?
I'm ashamed to say I have a couple of times...a book has to be REALLY bad for me to quit, but it still kills me. I've read a few that were as tedious as trying to swim through mud.

Here is a video of a B-52 flyover over Arlington National Cemetery. It was in honor of my brother Tye's good friend Major Chris "Fireball" Cooper who was killed in a B-52 crash off the coast of Guam earlier this year. You might not have heard about because our illustrious news practically ignored the incident. Tye is on the crew of this B-52 as it flies over in memorial.

Never Ignore Intuition

We've all heard it - that little voice in our heads that guides us through some of life's quandaries, often pushing us sometimes inexplicably one direction or the other. It's the gut instinct that rarely steers us wrong, IF we listen.

Very recently, I did not listen when I should have. I was walking through the yard toward the barn to get more feed sacks to put walnuts in. I passed one of the redbud trees I'd planted, and as I glanced at it, I noticed it was missing quite a few leaves, and what few it had left looked pretty sickly. Upon further inspection, I discovered a dozen neat-looking caterpillars happily munching away on my redbud.

Now, I'm pretty partial to caterpillars, but I am also partial to my carefully planted trees in our practically tree-less yard. I rashly decided to ignore the knowledge that usually nature knows best, and take it upon myself to transplant the caterpillars and disperse them between bigger, more leafy redbud trees, where they could munch away on leaves and not decimate their current tree. Kind of an "everybody wins" situation. My strategy was simple. As I'm not squeamish when it comes to bugs and worms, I would simply pick off the caterpillars and carry them to the bigger tree.

Here's where intuition made it's first little voice known. As I grabbed the first caterpillar, I wondered whether the things sticking off of it that looked like little sprigs of broccoli were a defense mechanism, but I shrugged it off. It was just a caterpillar. As I transported one caterpillar in each hand gently with my fingertips, I noticed a little tingly itchy sensation in my fingers, and again that voice in my head said, "hey...aren't there some caterpillars that sting?" I of course ignored that voice, and grabbed two more caterpillars. After all, they were just caterpillars, and how bad can a caterpillar sting? Likely the tingly sensation was as bad as it would get, but by the second bunch of caterpillars, I decided the tingly sensation was a bit uncomfortable, so instead of quitting this madness, or getting gloves, or anything smart - I carried the next bunch in my palms...which also started to tingle.

While transporting the third batch, the slight "tingly sensation" on my fingers and palms quickly escalated into a "stinging sensation", which became an intense "burning sensation" in just a few seconds, and I immediately abandoned the moving of the caterpillars (dropping them in mid-transport) for a running to the house (accompanied by a little girlish yelp) to immerse my now red and slightly swollen hands as quickly as possible under the faucet of cold water. Within a few minutes, especially after applying turpentine (takes the sting out of bees stings) and washing with soap, the burning subsided. A half hour later, all signs of distress were completely gone.

I then did some internet research, which I should have STARTED with, on stinging caterpillars, and quickly identified my culprits. The larvae of the very pretty Io moth. Here's what the book said:

"Caution should be observed concerning the larvae of the Io moth. The poisonous hairs or spines are hollow and connected to underlying poison glands. Contact with them causes a burning sensation and inflammation that can be as painful as a bee sting. The irritation can last for a day or two and may be accompanied by nausea during the first few hours. Usually the site of contact reddens and swells much like a bee sting. A person "stung" by a poisonous caterpillar should immediately wash the affected area to remove any insect hairs and poison that remain. An ice pack will help reduce swelling, and creams and lotions containing steroids will lessen the discomfort and promote healing. Persons known to be sensitive to insect stings should consult a physician. Stinging caterpillars rarely occur in sufficient numbers to be considered plant pests, but people who work with ornamental plants should learn to recognize them and avoid touching them."

You'd think a former park ranger would know better...and it seems I was very lucky...my reaction seemed to be very minor, especially considering the number of caterpillers I'd been stung by.

Now I not only felt like an idiot, I felt really bad...on my flight to the house, I'd dropped a handful of caterpillars in between trees, and through no fault of their own they were now out in the yard, away from their food, and vulnerable to birds (though woe to that bird), when they should have been in a tree.

I decided since I'd messed things up, it was my responsibility to get the caterpillars back on a tree. I moved the rest one by one, very carefully using twigs and grass as if I were handling nitroglycerin...made all the more difficult with Lucy alternately giving me licks and evidently trying to shove her frisbee up my left nostril.

It then occurred to me while I was squatting down trying to manuver a caterpillar onto a stick with a blade of grass - perhaps this is why I don't get as much done as I want? Wasting an hour carrying caterpillars from one tree to another...

Despite my care, during the move of one caterpillar (with Lucy's help), I bumped my elbow with my knee, causing the now balled-up 'pillar to vault into the air , performing a perfect triple back flip with a half twist, and land, where else, but onto the back of my hand causing an instant intense stabbing burning. This of course caused me to once again squeal like a little girl and drop the operation and sprint into the house for another scrubbing, further delaying the whole procedure.

I finally did get all the caterpillars dispersed onto different redbud trees, hopefully providing them with enough to eat so they can turn to moths, while minimizing the damage to the trees. I sure hope so, because I went to check the caterpillars the next day, and they were all gone. How's that for gratitude?

The moral of the story - sometimes it's best to just let nature be. And if you're going to handle caterpillars, wear gloves.

Crafty

I took a break from The Homestead for a few days to spend some time with the folks, and to attend the craft fairs in Northwest Arkansas with Mom and a crafty friend of hers. These craft fairs, or as the brothers not-so-fondly call them "the crap fairs", used to be a yearly tradition for me. My first memories of the craft fairs sometimes included snow and sleet, and little red boots to slosh through the mud with while our parents gazed at crafts. This tradition continued through until my adult years. That is, until I started working for state parks. Turns out, October is THE month that everyone and their dog goes to a state park...and how can you blame them in this weather? But being a park employee made it hard for me to enjoy fall. By late in the year, I found myself with very low tolerance after a full season of park visitors, plus I didn't have time to enjoy the lovely weather for myself. Any free time was spent getting as far away from a park environment and tourists as possible.

But, since I am now footloose and fancy-free, I was able to immerse myself in arts and crafts on a grand scale for the first time in a full six years. Unfortunately, this wasn't a banner year for arts and crafts. I only made a couple of purchases, which I can't talk about because the recepients of those items may be reading this blog. Despite the fact that it wasn't our usual huge haul of stuff, it was a very beautiful day, and well worth the trip.

And now I'm back at The Homestead, after a gorgeous day for the drive back. During the drive, I did see a scene worth commenting on, and I really wished I'd had my camera. I was significantly east of Springfield when I could no longer ignore "nature's call", so I pulled into a McDonald's. At this particular McDonald's, something kind of looked out of whack. Again, I wish I had a picture, because there in between a car and an SUV was a horse-pulled Amish wagon, complete with an Amish woman holding what I can only assume was an Amish baby. I went inside, and sure enough, there was the Amish man in his full Amish get-up placing his order. As I came out of the bathroom he was still waiting, so I went to the car. He came out pretty close behind me, and I watched him carry his bag of food to the wagon and hand it to the woman as he went to untie the horses from the hitching post.

And that's when it dawned on me - that it was the only McDonald's I've ever noticed with a hitching post. The spectacle was a bit surreal, even though I do know that people of the Amish faith actually accept more aspects of modern life than many of us "English" realize. However, it was still a bit like watching Pa Ingalls using a chainsaw. Or Grandpa Walton checking his email. Or Jeremiah Johnson carrying the "baar" he just killed with a four-wheeler.

I suppose like all of us, even the Amish get a hankerin' for some good greasy fast food, and they sure can't be blamed for that. And with a baby, maybe after a day of being out and about the woman just didn't feel like going home and taking the time to literally fire up the stove. I do wonder what he ordered. He looked like a Big Mac kind of guy...or possibly the Big 'N Tasty. If they were the least bit like me, neither one of them would touch Chicken McNuggets with a ten foot pole tipped with a dead skunk.

Lardin' and Nuttin'

How's that for a title? Lately, that's about what my life has consisted of - nuts and lard. Walnuts and pig fat, to be exact. Interesting times at the Hooter Ranch.

As many of you have probably noticed, this is the time of year for big fat walnuts to litter the ground, and this is a boomer of a year! Not only are the trees really producing, but the nut company is paying very well for black walnuts at hulling stations. After my first load - $92+ dollars worth, every time I see walnuts on the ground I now see little dollars. Unfortunately, I can't get every nut, but I'm sure going to try. Between our place and the neighbor's, I have plenty to keep me busy. I'm pretty sure my neighbor thinks I'm as nuts as the ones I pick up.

In between picking up nuts, I've been making lard. Yes, making lard. Whitey and Petunia, after a happy life lazing in the shade and mud, not getting injected with antibiotics and who knows what else, getting to eat yummy corn and table scraps (unlike factory pigs, I might add), made their journey to the processor, and we picked up the meat last week. You can sure fit a surprising amount of pork in a Toyota Prius.

I had been drilling every old person I could think of on the topic of rendering lard, as well as doing a fair amount of consulting the internet, and after deciding that it maybe wouldn't be too hard, I requested the butcher save me the fat. He was more than happy, and even ground it up for me. A question I've been asked by numerous friends has been "WHY would you WANT lard?" Well, aside from a wide consensus that it makes the absolute best pie crust, from reading about lard it seems that it's one of those foods that has been demonized, but now research shows it's actually not that bad. Matter of fact, it seems it's better than most fats, containing essential "stuff" a person needs, but without the trans-fat and no preservatives. Not that a person should just sit and eat a bucket of lard, but compared to the Crisco you get in a tub, it's downright healthy. And you do have to wonder about a product so full of preservatives you can leave it on the shelf nearly indefinately.

Not to mention that lard-making is getting to be one of those lost skills, and a the knowledge is just good to have.

On what I dubbed "lard day", I stood staring at three large frozen-turkey sized lumps of ground fat wrapped in plastic, wondering if I should proceed, or just feed it to the dogs. I decided to be adventurous and at least give it a try. I dug out my biggest dutch oven, put it on the grill over hot coals, added a bit of water and a big lump of fat, and waited. And waited. Stirred a bit. Waited. I quickly came to the conclusion that this project was going to cost a fortune in charcoal, plus the wind was blowing stuff into the pot, and I was incessently pestered by over-interested dogs and cats. So, against my better judgement, I moved the whole operation indoors to the stove. Eventually the fat melted and started to cook down, and after a few hours I started to see brown "cracklins" and the liquid turned clear, so according to all my information, it was done cooking. I felt like Ma Ingalls straining out the cracklings, but I'm pretty sure she did not strain her lard into GladWare. After a few hours of cooling in the fridge, I had honest-to-goodness lard!

Part of me is still surprised it even worked - talk about a feeling of accomplishment! And doesn't this pic speak for itself???

I Think...Therefore, I Blog

Well, I see I rankled some fur by my posting of the Farrikhan video. I'm not going to waste a lot of time on this, because I don't want to risk changing the tone of my blog, but let me clarify why I keep this blog. I keep this blog in order for my family and friends to keep up with happenings at the Hooter Homestead, thoughts that end up making a soup ranging from the main ingredients of everyday silliness and amusing observations, a mullet hunt for good measure, with a little peppering of a few more serious issues. I simply blog, and with the current political winds blowing strong as they are, it's inevitable that some of my own opinion on that front makes it in. I'm no high-powered political analyist...I'm that everyday "Joe Sixpack" that Sarah Palin has been brutalized by the liberal press for being. And whenever I run across a tidbit I think people might find interesting, I blog it.

But, contrarary to "Anonymous", as they so corageously identified themselves so I can't address them by name, I do think before I blog. And let me respond. The video is scary not because Louis Farrikhan endorses Obama - that's a given. Never did I imply that Obama is responsible for who endorses him - that's not the scary part. The scary part to me is what is said...that Obama is referred to as "The Messiah", and basically that he's going to be bringing about the kind of change that a radical Islamist can get behind. THAT is scary. Period.

That being said, I happen to think our choices for president this term are both a couple of boobs. The choice to me is who will bring the least amount of government boobery and jackassery to the country, who can keep us as a country safe, who is best for our troops (and I have several vested personal interests in this issue), and who tromps the least on our personal liberties. I do not want to one day find ourselves prancing around wearing berets and calling ourselves Socialist New France, or worse. There is LOT more I am tempted to say, but I will refrain.

If you anyone is offended by my blog, then don't read it. It's that simple. For everyone else, I look forward to very soon getting back on the track of blogging about fiddle playing and making, pets, husbands, hobbies, and just general amusing life observations.

Be Afraid...

This is a video everyone should watch before voting. It is Louis Farrikhan endorsing Barack Obama:

http://www.worldnetdaily.com/?pageId=77539

I'm very scared for our country lately. America is at a crossroads - we can either submit to governmental control over every part of our lives and become a socialist state, or we can remember the great country our ancestors fought for, and take our country back. Throw off the apathy, and let freedom ring.

Ozark Sasquatch?

Today while perusing the local classifiedes, I came upon this ad in the "Help Wanted" section, under "Notices"...I had to read it several times. It said (and this is copied word for word, with the actual phone number omitted):

Blue Man: If you have had a sighting of an unusual large animal walking on two legs, you are not by yourself, over 70 sightings reported in Missouri. If you contact us, your identification can be kept confidential. Any age of story accepted. 417-***-**** .

Hey, if he can cut the coyote population back down to a semi-resonable level, he's welcome in my back yard.

Aaaand...I'm back. Again.

I apologize for my blogging absence as of late. Things have been busy around the Homestead, and the weather has been so glorious that it's hard to sit down and blog, and I'm hitting it so hard during the day that when evening rolls around, I'm pooped.

First, I'd like to thank everyone for your thoughts and sympathy and cards concerning Sam. I really appreciate it, even though some made me get teary. The sympathy card from the vet's office made me bawl...it had that story "Rainbow Bridge" printed on the front. Ugh. It's been a weird nearly two weeks without the old guy around the house...almost startling not to see him on his usual perches. I even find myself automatically going to clean hair off the furniture or floor, but there's no hair...which kind of saddened me at first, but I have to admit, it's nice to be able to sit down in dark pants. And a bright spot, I walk into the laundry room and automatically screw up my face in anticipation of fragrance eau de litterbox, and instead I just smell dryer sheet. That's actually pretty pleasant. If there's one thing Sam could do, it's leave a stinky litterbox - and his favorite thing to do was to wait until it was freshly cleaned with new litter. Once about eight years ago, I was sound asleep one night and awoke to the most AWFUL stench, and when I got up to investigate I found a nice fresh "bomb" in the clean litterbox. That cat had crapped and woken me up from ACROSS the house. As I was very grumpily scooping out the box at 2:00 a.m., Sam watched with what I swear was a proudly bemused expression. "Heh...yep, I pooped." All in all, the hair and poop were worth the companionship, and I do miss him.

Fall has definately started to fall down around our ears...it's downright chilly at night, and while the days are still pretty warm, the sunlight has changed to it's fall sharpness and the leaves are thinning and starting to turn. And yesterday on my way to town, instead of admiring the scenery, I was absorbed in the annual autumn tradition of dodging tarantulas crossing the road in search of a mate. (Why did the tarantula cross the road? To get some booty!) I don't know why I bother trying to avoid them, as other drivers seem to swerve out of their way to smash the poor things. People. Maybe a few I've spared have actually made it safely across.

Over the last week and a half, I've been engaged in several projects. Work on my fiddle continues, but very slowly. I will be VERY surprised if I have the fiddle made in the next year, but maybe things will go faster than I think. It's very tedious work, made even more tedious by the fact that my teacher is legally blind, and on top of that hardship one of the other students is a very know-it-all yankee who seems unable to shut his mouth. I figure this first one will be rough to get through, and IF I successfully make this one and decide to make another, the process will get easier.

This is my fiddle front. Violet was saving this beautiful piece of sassafras for her use, but insisted I take it instead. The only drawback is that it's obviously not wide enough for a fiddle front, so I had to saw it in half and glue it together. Fortunately, the wood is so nice that once the board was sanded, I couldn't even tell where the glued joint was. So, envision if you will, a fiddle with this sassafras front, cherry sides, and a cherry back. And I already decided on black walnut fingerboard and tailpiece, but those will likely be long in the future.


Gotta go for now...stay tuned! I promise to get back on the blogging track, and I have more pics to add!