Since my last blog was a little grumpy, I thought I'd share a recent experience at one of my favorite greasy food-in-a-hurry spots, Sonic, that might bring a smile. I've noticed I have a trend going - I stop for a quick drink or bite to eat, or to quickly run into Walmart, and it turns into a complete snafu.
Usually I have the best of luck at Sonic, and they've got some good grub. But recently I wondered if I'd stepped onto another planet...a planet where Sonic only hires blithering idiots. On my way through Cave City the other day, I thought a .99 cent caramel shake sounded yummy, so I pulled into Sonic and pushed the button. Here's the following conversation:
Sonic Menu: "Welcome to Sonic, may I take your order?"
Me: "Yes I'd like a small caramel shake please."
Sonic Menu: "Ok, can I get you any cheddar peppers with those?"
Me: "No thanks, just the shake."
Sonic Menu "Ok, that'll be one small chocolate shake, $1.06."
Me: "No ma'am...that was a caramel shake."
Sonic Menu: "Oh I'm sorry...ok I have a chocolate-caramel shake."
Me: "No...no, that's just a caramel shake."
SILENCE...
Sonic Menu: "Ok that's a caramel shake...$1.28."
My thoughts...A dollar twenty-eight? Why is caramel more expensive? But then she was gone, so I decided it might be more fruitful to question the carhop.
Waiting...
And waiting...my "quick stop" has now turned into 10 minutes...but FINALLY, here comes the carhop.
Carhop: "Yes I have a vanilla-caramel shake?"
Me: "No. It was supposed to be just caramel."
Carhop: "Oh...yeah, well...it is caramel...just added to vanilla."
Me: "But I just wanted caramel. Is it caramel?"
Carhop: "Ok lemme go back."
Waiting...
Carhop returns: "Ok it's caramel. That'll be $1.28."
Me: "Why is the caramel more expensive?"
Carhop: "Huh?"
Me: "Shakes are supposed to be .99 cents."
Carhop: "Oh yeah...they are. But you added caramel."
Me (laughing): "I DIDN'T ADD CARAMEL TO ANYTHING. Look on the menu. See? Caramel is a FLAVOR. I JUST want CARAMEL. See?"
Carhop: "Yeah...ok...lemme go back."
Me: "WAIT...ok...I know with tax it's supposed to be $1.06, and I don't have all day to dicker over a small shake. Let me just give you the money, and I'll take that shake."
Carhop: "Ok...here you go."
So I take the shake and go...shaking my head in disbelief. A couple miles down the road I took a swig of shake.
Vanilla.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Whoooeee...
Well, I'm back at the Hooter Homestead now after a trip back home to help my folks with Grandma D's estate auction. I NEVER want to go through that again! The auction was three days, but it fel
t like twenty. I learned a few things. First, auctions are only fun if you're not on the selling side. Second, auctioneers are dirty sneaky lying jerks. At least the ones who did our auction. Third, you can still function while exhausted and sleep-deprived...
Also, I've never been to an auction where I didn't respect the fact that all this stuff once belonged to someone who cared about it. But watching the public callously pawing through stuff with careless abandon was infuriating.
The auctioneer, while I will not name names, was a lying little blowhard wearing a huge cowboy hat, who liked to give the impression that he was a real genuine authentic cowboy. He gave me a five-minute speech about how honest he was, and how he grew up all country "doing things the right way", so that sent up red flags right there. If you're TRULY honest, you don't need to tell people. If you're a cowboy, you don't go around trying really hard making sure people know you're one. He was also ignorant. When in just casual conversation I asked where he had gone to auctioneer school, he puffed out his chest and said, "Heh...yeah well, some people need to go to school, but I've just always had The Talent." I guess that's why he sounded like no other auctioneer I've ever heard. "Hey!!! ManaManaManananana wooooopppeeEEEEE mana-nana zing! zing! zing! Dippity dip dip dip zing!" I kid you not...that is an exact quote. Then later he insulted my husband. Again in casual conversation (I don't know why at this point I bothered), I mentioned that I had an art degree and Marden had a degree in Animal Science. He snorted and said, "Well, yeah...you know, I have a degree in animal science." I said, "Oh yeah? Where'd you go to school?" He again snorted and rolled his eyes and said, "Well, it's called growing up on a farm. THERE'S your Animal Science degree." Jerk. Did I say that already? My only regret at that point was simply walking away instead of saying, "You know what...you're a JERK. And you're short." I suppose someone has to take the higher road.
So you're probably thinking I'm being too rough on this guy...but there's a good reason. Maybe it's normal practice, but I feel the auction company had conflicting interests. They are avid Ebayers, and have their own buyers at auctions to buy stuff cheap in order to resell. They were pretty obvious about it, and it REALLY rubbed me the wrong way. Such was the case with some valuable figurines that went for $4 to his girlfriend before anyone else had the chance to see what they were bidding on...even our own "plant" who was keeping an eye out to make sure things weren't just given away. Pretty fishy.
Then there was The Jelly Cabinet Incident of 2008. Saturday night, the night before the last auction day, we re-discovered a jelly cabinet in Grandma D's barn, which we wanted to keep. It wasn't on the sale bill, so we decided to definately keep it. Especially when the auctioneers discovered it...all crowded around and all but petting the thing, with one IMMEDIATELY getting on his cell phone to discuss resale of the piece with what we assume was a buyer. We ended up putting a "NO SALE" sign on it after they left, and the next morning they were FURIOUS. Dad refused to budge, and they said they "had to sell it, since it was on the sale bill." It acutally wasn't..turned out to be another, cheaper, jelly cabinet. But they insisted on auctioning it off, so Dad informed them we'd be buying it back. And much to my stress, I did...and they stopped bidding at $500, I'm assuming because they knew I wasn't going to stop. Later I found a similar jelly cabinet on the internet for over $2000. No WONDER they wanted it. Jerks. Then Dad really socked it back by refusing to pay commission on an item that wasn't supposed to be for sale to begin with. They may have gotten a steal on some items through shady dealings - probably a lot we don't know about, but this wasn't one.
Anyway, it's over. The stuff is gone, we held some stuff back for our own personal use and Ebay, and Mom and Dad ha
ve that monkey off their backs. And one bright spot was our security guard, Lavern, and his dog Fred. Classic example of how you can't judge a book by it's cover. Despite appearances, Lavern was actually a pretty smart guy, and very interesting to talk to. He's been everywhere, is well-read and genuinely nice, but without fitting into the norms of society. A modern-day mountain man with no wilderness to live in, other than the wilderness of the road. He told me he wasn't long for that town...his feet were "getting itchy." Lavern and Fred, I wish you well in your travels!
So I've been back at The Homestead for a few days now...still exhausted, but muddling through. And, since the ga
rden is doing so well, I've now delved into the exciting world of food preservation through canning! Our garden is going nuts, and I ended up purchasing a canner that'll work on a glass-top stove. Yesterday I put up the amazing amount of a whole SIX quarts of green beans. Actually, most were yellow, but same difference. Yeah, I know...don't overextend myself. :) But, now that I sort of know what I'm doing (at least as far as beans), I'm ready for the plants to really start spitting them out. I also canned eight pints of bread-and-butter pickles, though I had some difficulty getting them to seal. Word to the wise - when the directions say boil, they mean rolling boil. So I dipped them again, and this time they sealed. Might taste like shoe leather though...we'll see in two weeks.
Oh, and I have three new additions. Well...temporary additions. While at Stu's house in Searcy last week (before the auction), checking on the progress of Maggie (our truck...yes we named it. She's kind of a truck-sto
p waitress kinda truck, loosly inspired by the song "Maggie's Dream" by Don Williams), where Stu and Tony were fixing 'er up, some kittens were brought to my attention. Mama kitty was a stray, and all had bad but healing wounds caused by who knows what, and they were pretty skinny. And sucker me, I had to take them. Here's a pic of the crew, who, by the way, had to come to my folk's with me (and Sally), where after they got over being freaked out, they wreaked havoc in Mom and Dad's laundry room. Wounds are all healing really well (white kitty got the worst of it, and will be pretty scarred up, but she's still cute).
I'd forgotten how fun kittens are. Puppies are awesome, but a lot of work. Kittens are easy, adorable, and can really relieve stress...I guarantee having three purring away in your lap will make anyone smile.
Who needs an adorably cute kitten???
t like twenty. I learned a few things. First, auctions are only fun if you're not on the selling side. Second, auctioneers are dirty sneaky lying jerks. At least the ones who did our auction. Third, you can still function while exhausted and sleep-deprived...Also, I've never been to an auction where I didn't respect the fact that all this stuff once belonged to someone who cared about it. But watching the public callously pawing through stuff with careless abandon was infuriating.
The auctioneer, while I will not name names, was a lying little blowhard wearing a huge cowboy hat, who liked to give the impression that he was a real genuine authentic cowboy. He gave me a five-minute speech about how honest he was, and how he grew up all country "doing things the right way", so that sent up red flags right there. If you're TRULY honest, you don't need to tell people. If you're a cowboy, you don't go around trying really hard making sure people know you're one. He was also ignorant. When in just casual conversation I asked where he had gone to auctioneer school, he puffed out his chest and said, "Heh...yeah well, some people need to go to school, but I've just always had The Talent." I guess that's why he sounded like no other auctioneer I've ever heard. "Hey!!! ManaManaManananana wooooopppeeEEEEE mana-nana zing! zing! zing! Dippity dip dip dip zing!" I kid you not...that is an exact quote. Then later he insulted my husband. Again in casual conversation (I don't know why at this point I bothered), I mentioned that I had an art degree and Marden had a degree in Animal Science. He snorted and said, "Well, yeah...you know, I have a degree in animal science." I said, "Oh yeah? Where'd you go to school?" He again snorted and rolled his eyes and said, "Well, it's called growing up on a farm. THERE'S your Animal Science degree." Jerk. Did I say that already? My only regret at that point was simply walking away instead of saying, "You know what...you're a JERK. And you're short." I suppose someone has to take the higher road.
So you're probably thinking I'm being too rough on this guy...but there's a good reason. Maybe it's normal practice, but I feel the auction company had conflicting interests. They are avid Ebayers, and have their own buyers at auctions to buy stuff cheap in order to resell. They were pretty obvious about it, and it REALLY rubbed me the wrong way. Such was the case with some valuable figurines that went for $4 to his girlfriend before anyone else had the chance to see what they were bidding on...even our own "plant" who was keeping an eye out to make sure things weren't just given away. Pretty fishy.
Then there was The Jelly Cabinet Incident of 2008. Saturday night, the night before the last auction day, we re-discovered a jelly cabinet in Grandma D's barn, which we wanted to keep. It wasn't on the sale bill, so we decided to definately keep it. Especially when the auctioneers discovered it...all crowded around and all but petting the thing, with one IMMEDIATELY getting on his cell phone to discuss resale of the piece with what we assume was a buyer. We ended up putting a "NO SALE" sign on it after they left, and the next morning they were FURIOUS. Dad refused to budge, and they said they "had to sell it, since it was on the sale bill." It acutally wasn't..turned out to be another, cheaper, jelly cabinet. But they insisted on auctioning it off, so Dad informed them we'd be buying it back. And much to my stress, I did...and they stopped bidding at $500, I'm assuming because they knew I wasn't going to stop. Later I found a similar jelly cabinet on the internet for over $2000. No WONDER they wanted it. Jerks. Then Dad really socked it back by refusing to pay commission on an item that wasn't supposed to be for sale to begin with. They may have gotten a steal on some items through shady dealings - probably a lot we don't know about, but this wasn't one.
Anyway, it's over. The stuff is gone, we held some stuff back for our own personal use and Ebay, and Mom and Dad ha
ve that monkey off their backs. And one bright spot was our security guard, Lavern, and his dog Fred. Classic example of how you can't judge a book by it's cover. Despite appearances, Lavern was actually a pretty smart guy, and very interesting to talk to. He's been everywhere, is well-read and genuinely nice, but without fitting into the norms of society. A modern-day mountain man with no wilderness to live in, other than the wilderness of the road. He told me he wasn't long for that town...his feet were "getting itchy." Lavern and Fred, I wish you well in your travels!So I've been back at The Homestead for a few days now...still exhausted, but muddling through. And, since the ga
rden is doing so well, I've now delved into the exciting world of food preservation through canning! Our garden is going nuts, and I ended up purchasing a canner that'll work on a glass-top stove. Yesterday I put up the amazing amount of a whole SIX quarts of green beans. Actually, most were yellow, but same difference. Yeah, I know...don't overextend myself. :) But, now that I sort of know what I'm doing (at least as far as beans), I'm ready for the plants to really start spitting them out. I also canned eight pints of bread-and-butter pickles, though I had some difficulty getting them to seal. Word to the wise - when the directions say boil, they mean rolling boil. So I dipped them again, and this time they sealed. Might taste like shoe leather though...we'll see in two weeks.Oh, and I have three new additions. Well...temporary additions. While at Stu's house in Searcy last week (before the auction), checking on the progress of Maggie (our truck...yes we named it. She's kind of a truck-sto
p waitress kinda truck, loosly inspired by the song "Maggie's Dream" by Don Williams), where Stu and Tony were fixing 'er up, some kittens were brought to my attention. Mama kitty was a stray, and all had bad but healing wounds caused by who knows what, and they were pretty skinny. And sucker me, I had to take them. Here's a pic of the crew, who, by the way, had to come to my folk's with me (and Sally), where after they got over being freaked out, they wreaked havoc in Mom and Dad's laundry room. Wounds are all healing really well (white kitty got the worst of it, and will be pretty scarred up, but she's still cute).I'd forgotten how fun kittens are. Puppies are awesome, but a lot of work. Kittens are easy, adorable, and can really relieve stress...I guarantee having three purring away in your lap will make anyone smile.
Who needs an adorably cute kitten???
Saturday, June 14, 2008
My Kickin' Garden
Ok, bragging time! I'm enjoying the best garden I've ever had...really, the first "real" garden I've ever had. The raised beds are a success! They are booming with produce and practically worry-free from weeds so far. All my garden worries from early spring were for naught, as it usually goes with w
orries. Yesterday's harvest of 4 zucchini, 4 summer squash, and 5 cucumbers...and we're just getting started!
Here is one of our bee girls pollinating the cucumbers. The bees have been all over the garden blooms, and I think it's one of the reasons the garden looks so good. Then again, maybe I'm just overly proud.
Here are some chickie pics! No eggs yet, but we're only a month or so away from them...mmmm....
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Annnd...I'm back
So sorry for the delay, but the Hooter Homestead has been kicking my butt! With Mr. Hooter off doing army stuff for another month, I've been soloing on the yard work, garden work, housework, and animalwork...leaving little motivation or inspriation for blogging.
However, I'm back now in writing action. Recently I recieved some inspiration in the form of a minor irritation on a recent visit to the feed store for pig food. While waiting m
y turn to get my purchase, this character strolled up. I'd seen him earlier strolling the store, shirtless. Now, I know guys can prance around shirtless and unlike women not get arrested, but sometimes I wonder how fair this is. While this guy isn't a fatty, he sure wasn't an Adonis either. I sure didn't want to see his flabby naked hairy belly, yet that didn't stop him from proudly showing it off. I know it's just a feed store, but it's nice enough...kind of like a small Orchelns or Atwoods...nice enough to expect a guy to have some scruples and wear a shirt. Am I wrong? It just struck me as inappropriate and rude.
y turn to get my purchase, this character strolled up. I'd seen him earlier strolling the store, shirtless. Now, I know guys can prance around shirtless and unlike women not get arrested, but sometimes I wonder how fair this is. While this guy isn't a fatty, he sure wasn't an Adonis either. I sure didn't want to see his flabby naked hairy belly, yet that didn't stop him from proudly showing it off. I know it's just a feed store, but it's nice enough...kind of like a small Orchelns or Atwoods...nice enough to expect a guy to have some scruples and wear a shirt. Am I wrong? It just struck me as inappropriate and rude.Maybe I'm just irritable today, which I have every right to be. I'm really tired of getting bee stung! I "worked the bees" yesterday, as you say in beekeeper speak, and one of our hives is extremely irritable for some reason we probably need to fix. I worked the first two hives without gloves, because with gloves I'm a bumbling idiot, and without them I can pull out the frames and inspect without dropping them. On the last hive I paid for the attempt at dexterity. I suppose my hand will now be this fat for a day or two...not as fat as the infamous snakebite, but still pretty darn fat!
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
New Addition and a Loss
Yesterday we added to the Hooter fold - a 1970 Ford 250 truck purchased from (where else?) but Ebay! We've been looking for a truck for a while, and decided this was the one. I have a thing for old vehicles, and since I grew up with a '73 Ford truck, it kind of has a nostalgic twang. Plus we can't even begin to afford a new one. :)
And with an addition comes a loss. We said goodbye to a swarm of bees, which swarmed out of the OTHER hive yesterday. I just wasn't quick enough, and they were on a MISSION. The huge ball of bees flew across the pasture, over the road, and into the wilds of the next property. I may have been able to catch them had I been more willing to sacrifice my body to the ticks and chiggers, but I took my eyes off the swarm to run indoors, apply copious amounts of bug spray and long pants, then run back out. By this time the swarm was long gone...probably swarmed up in what "Beekeeping for Dummies" says is their favorite tree - a cedar. Hmm...there's about a billion just on the hill of the next property. I did spend a while looking, but alas, it was in vain. Just the fact that I was looking for them after my last swarm experience probably says something about my sanity.
Anybody looking this direction for fresh honey better hold out for next year...
Friday, May 16, 2008
My UnBEElievable Day
Hey, it's my blog, and I can have a cheesy title if I want.
This morning I got up thinking it was going to be just your average, normal, beautiful sunshiney day after a DREARY day yesterday, and the day before when I'd just gotten back from vacation and didn't feel like doing much. Finally, a day to weed the garden and redo a flower bed that turned out to be a water dam instead. Morning goes uneventful, but after my lunch break I stepped out on the front porch and hear...lots of buzzing. Lots. Not the normal amount of buzzing I usually hear from our two new beehives 200 yards away. This was LOUD.
I investigate, and can tell REALLY quick that something is out of whack. The normally calm hives are all a-flutter...er, a-buzz with a huge cloud of bees. This is a pretty frantic sight for a uber-novice beekeeper, having been told in every beekeeping book that I've read, and at every beekeeping meeting that THIS IS BAD. Swarming, to those of you non bee-in-the-know, is a hive's natural way of making more hives...the bees make a new queen, and a good number of them fly into the wild blue yonder. That's bad because they're not staying to make you yummy honey.
So I did the only thing I knew to do. First, I made about four pointless trips back and forth from the hives to the house. During this time, the bees have now worked themselves into a big ball in the very tip-top of a skinny oak tree. Since I couldn't figure out what to do, I called hubby and yelled, "HONEY...THE BEES ARE SWARMING!!!"
Our following conversation went something like this:
"HONEY, THE BEES ARE SWARMING!!!"
"THE BEES ARE SWARMING?!?"
"THE BEES ARE SWARMING!!!"
"WOW, that's COOL!!!"
"YEAH, that's COOL! But what do I DO?"
"You gotta get the swarm!"
"Get the swarm? But it's in a tree."
"How far?"
"Uhhhh....a loooong way...like...40' or more."
"Well...get it if you can...we can make a new hive"
If I can. "IF you can" aren't words I take lightly. Of course I CAN...somehow. Those are OUR bees, and just where do they think they're going? Of course I can get those bees...it's not that high...I mean, they're right THERE.
Fact #1 about bees...they don't respond to calls of "Here bee bee bee bee bee!" So, first thing I needed was a ladder. So I got our ladder...which is like 5' tall. Not gonna cut it. Not even if I unwisely place it in the back of the truck, which I OF COURSE wouldn't do - it was only a very brief consideration. So...surely the neighbors have an extendable ladder, which they do, and I borrow. Armed with a very long ladder, my next step was to work for 10 minutes standing the ladder up to the tree, consistently banging the tree as hard as possible, shaking the swarm and ticking them off. After they're good and mad, I decided to climb the ladder.
I'm going to back up a minute back to childhood, when there wasn't a tree or a roof I couldn't climb. Climbing was my game, and I was good at it. The bros and I spent long hours on insanely tall perches in the sycamore tree in the front yard (unbeknownst to mom) without a single worry of falling. Then...at some point in time that changed. I'm not sure when...but I did notice a ridiculous amount of shaking and sweating while climbing a ladder in high school during a paint-the-house extravaganza. I dunno...maybe when I got taller my center of gravity changed. Maybe I grew a chicken liver. For whatever reason, I all of a sudden realized I had a problem with heights. Maybe not heights so much as feeling insecure and FALLING from heights. I can go to any height if it feels safe...tall ladders most definately do NOT.
Back to present - now I've made it up the ladder. After a couple tries, I had to ditch the beekeeping veil and gloves and go up the ladder "naked"...but I'm relying heavily on the factoid in my "Beekeeping for Dummies" (and at this point I'm thinking that title is apt) that swarming bees are full of honey and aren't prone to stinging. That "prone" is an interesting word. It seems to mean "it won't usually happen, but it'll probably happen to you."
Now I have to wonder how I find myself 40' up in a too-skinny oak tree, which is bending precariously, standing on the rung of a entendable ladder which reads "Do Not Stand On This Rung", hacking away with a saw at a branch holding a basketball-sized wad of stinging bees. All the time shaking, sweating, and talking to myself like the crazy person I must be.
After a few precarious tries, I finally cut the branch with the biggest wad of bees, successfully ditch the saw without hitting a dog or cat, which are both unwisely sitting at the bottom of the tree watching the procedure, and make my way down the ladder with branch containing the bee wad. According to "Beekeep
ing for Dummies", I can put them in a cardboard box. Which I do (see pic)...after unbelievably getting the swarm down without banging it or dropping it. Then back to the book, which is unclear at this point. Or else I'm a real dummy. So I called a lady from the beekeeping club, who tells me to shake them into a hive body, since that's all I've got. They ARE pretty docile, I must say...to endure a cutting, a trip down the ladder, being put in a box, then a shaking into a hive. But now I've been told I need to get a frame of brood and honey from one of the other hives.
No problem...NOW I'm a pro. Thing is, THESE bees aren't swarming, and they don't take too lightly having brood and honey stolen. They're pissed. And once I'm in the hive taking out the frame, they begin to very rudely exploit a hole in my armor - a gap between the elastic gloves and my sleeve. Fact #2 about bees, they also do not respond to yells of "STOP STINGING ME!!!"
Now I'm in the middle of robbing the hive, and I have at least FIVE angry bees up my sleeve...just stingin' away. My arm is on fire, and all I can do is kind of a little dance and say bad words. My overwhelming urge is to go running back to the house screaming bloody murder, but I can't make them MADDER - so I grit my teeth and calmly put the hive back together, added the robbed brood and honey to the new hive, put the hive back together, and THEN ran back to the house at a dead sprint, shedding gloves and shirt on the way. Most of them had already stung and were dead or dying, but I did have a couple live ones fly out. Thankfully we live at the end of a dirt road, and to my knowledge nobody saw me streaking the yard in my bra.
So now we have three hives. Soon to have four, because we can't just get into a new hobby slowly like normal people. We're also in the process of getting a wild hive out of a tree in town, which is not nearly the harrowing experience of getting a swarm. Getting a wild hive is really no more than being mean, blocking the entrances to the hive, and making them gradually go into your hive box.
And despite all this, we're still not guaranteed a butt-load of honey...but keep your fingers crossed! I would, but mine are swollen...
This morning I got up thinking it was going to be just your average, normal, beautiful sunshiney day after a DREARY day yesterday, and the day before when I'd just gotten back from vacation and didn't feel like doing much. Finally, a day to weed the garden and redo a flower bed that turned out to be a water dam instead. Morning goes uneventful, but after my lunch break I stepped out on the front porch and hear...lots of buzzing. Lots. Not the normal amount of buzzing I usually hear from our two new beehives 200 yards away. This was LOUD.
I investigate, and can tell REALLY quick that something is out of whack. The normally calm hives are all a-flutter...er, a-buzz with a huge cloud of bees. This is a pretty frantic sight for a uber-novice beekeeper, having been told in every beekeeping book that I've read, and at every beekeeping meeting that THIS IS BAD. Swarming, to those of you non bee-in-the-know, is a hive's natural way of making more hives...the bees make a new queen, and a good number of them fly into the wild blue yonder. That's bad because they're not staying to make you yummy honey.
So I did the only thing I knew to do. First, I made about four pointless trips back and forth from the hives to the house. During this time, the bees have now worked themselves into a big ball in the very tip-top of a skinny oak tree. Since I couldn't figure out what to do, I called hubby and yelled, "HONEY...THE BEES ARE SWARMING!!!"
Our following conversation went something like this:
"HONEY, THE BEES ARE SWARMING!!!"
"THE BEES ARE SWARMING?!?"
"THE BEES ARE SWARMING!!!"
"WOW, that's COOL!!!"
"YEAH, that's COOL! But what do I DO?"
"You gotta get the swarm!"
"Get the swarm? But it's in a tree."
"How far?"
"Uhhhh....a loooong way...like...40' or more."
"Well...get it if you can...we can make a new hive"
If I can. "IF you can" aren't words I take lightly. Of course I CAN...somehow. Those are OUR bees, and just where do they think they're going? Of course I can get those bees...it's not that high...I mean, they're right THERE.
Fact #1 about bees...they don't respond to calls of "Here bee bee bee bee bee!" So, first thing I needed was a ladder. So I got our ladder...which is like 5' tall. Not gonna cut it. Not even if I unwisely place it in the back of the truck, which I OF COURSE wouldn't do - it was only a very brief consideration. So...surely the neighbors have an extendable ladder, which they do, and I borrow. Armed with a very long ladder, my next step was to work for 10 minutes standing the ladder up to the tree, consistently banging the tree as hard as possible, shaking the swarm and ticking them off. After they're good and mad, I decided to climb the ladder.
I'm going to back up a minute back to childhood, when there wasn't a tree or a roof I couldn't climb. Climbing was my game, and I was good at it. The bros and I spent long hours on insanely tall perches in the sycamore tree in the front yard (unbeknownst to mom) without a single worry of falling. Then...at some point in time that changed. I'm not sure when...but I did notice a ridiculous amount of shaking and sweating while climbing a ladder in high school during a paint-the-house extravaganza. I dunno...maybe when I got taller my center of gravity changed. Maybe I grew a chicken liver. For whatever reason, I all of a sudden realized I had a problem with heights. Maybe not heights so much as feeling insecure and FALLING from heights. I can go to any height if it feels safe...tall ladders most definately do NOT.
Back to present - now I've made it up the ladder. After a couple tries, I had to ditch the beekeeping veil and gloves and go up the ladder "naked"...but I'm relying heavily on the factoid in my "Beekeeping for Dummies" (and at this point I'm thinking that title is apt) that swarming bees are full of honey and aren't prone to stinging. That "prone" is an interesting word. It seems to mean "it won't usually happen, but it'll probably happen to you."
Now I have to wonder how I find myself 40' up in a too-skinny oak tree, which is bending precariously, standing on the rung of a entendable ladder which reads "Do Not Stand On This Rung", hacking away with a saw at a branch holding a basketball-sized wad of stinging bees. All the time shaking, sweating, and talking to myself like the crazy person I must be.
After a few precarious tries, I finally cut the branch with the biggest wad of bees, successfully ditch the saw without hitting a dog or cat, which are both unwisely sitting at the bottom of the tree watching the procedure, and make my way down the ladder with branch containing the bee wad. According to "Beekeep
ing for Dummies", I can put them in a cardboard box. Which I do (see pic)...after unbelievably getting the swarm down without banging it or dropping it. Then back to the book, which is unclear at this point. Or else I'm a real dummy. So I called a lady from the beekeeping club, who tells me to shake them into a hive body, since that's all I've got. They ARE pretty docile, I must say...to endure a cutting, a trip down the ladder, being put in a box, then a shaking into a hive. But now I've been told I need to get a frame of brood and honey from one of the other hives.No problem...NOW I'm a pro. Thing is, THESE bees aren't swarming, and they don't take too lightly having brood and honey stolen. They're pissed. And once I'm in the hive taking out the frame, they begin to very rudely exploit a hole in my armor - a gap between the elastic gloves and my sleeve. Fact #2 about bees, they also do not respond to yells of "STOP STINGING ME!!!"
Now I'm in the middle of robbing the hive, and I have at least FIVE angry bees up my sleeve...just stingin' away. My arm is on fire, and all I can do is kind of a little dance and say bad words. My overwhelming urge is to go running back to the house screaming bloody murder, but I can't make them MADDER - so I grit my teeth and calmly put the hive back together, added the robbed brood and honey to the new hive, put the hive back together, and THEN ran back to the house at a dead sprint, shedding gloves and shirt on the way. Most of them had already stung and were dead or dying, but I did have a couple live ones fly out. Thankfully we live at the end of a dirt road, and to my knowledge nobody saw me streaking the yard in my bra.
So now we have three hives. Soon to have four, because we can't just get into a new hobby slowly like normal people. We're also in the process of getting a wild hive out of a tree in town, which is not nearly the harrowing experience of getting a swarm. Getting a wild hive is really no more than being mean, blocking the entrances to the hive, and making them gradually go into your hive box.
And despite all this, we're still not guaranteed a butt-load of honey...but keep your fingers crossed! I would, but mine are swollen...
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Post Vacation Blues
I've had a few days to "recover" from the trip, but now I'm stuck in the dastardly clutches of the Post Vacation Blues. No, I didn't make that up...it actually has an official name. And I thought I was just being a wuss...which I am, but my wussiness actually has a term! And apparently, the better your vacation was, the worse the blues are. On top of that, the cloudiness and rain sure doesn't help on the motivation end of things. Bah.
On the bright side, our farm is now several thousand critters bigger. :) Don't panic, mom...it's just bees! We're the proud parents of two new beehives purchased from a very experienced beekeeper in Calico Rock. They're busting at the seams, and if all goes well we'll be really rolling in the honey this summer. Not literally - that would be sticky and a waste of good honey.
So now that I'm back, Mr. Hooter is now getting ready for his big trip, though his won't be that fun since it's work-mandated...so far he's not overly excited.
On the bright side, our farm is now several thousand critters bigger. :) Don't panic, mom...it's just bees! We're the proud parents of two new beehives purchased from a very experienced beekeeper in Calico Rock. They're busting at the seams, and if all goes well we'll be really rolling in the honey this summer. Not literally - that would be sticky and a waste of good honey. In an abrupt change of subject (which I can do because this is MY blog), the Today Show just showed some tops that you just HAVE to HAVE for summer. and one little tanktop number that's "SOOOO affordable at just $144." Yeah!!! Only $144...whip out the pocket change!!! Who ARE these people??? For one thing, it looked like someone got it out of the rag bucket and pasted some sparklies and beads on. Second...half that to pay for a top is too much....for even half that, it better be something really dressy, not just something to flit down the streets of New York in.
Ah well...now they're discussing the important topic of what to tell your kids about your wild past...I think I'm going to barf.
Well, that's all for today...we need groceries...and I can quit listening to this yammering and go get two week's worth for the price of that "SOOO affordable" top...
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Great Wild West Vacation Pics - Part II
Judith and I are back at our respective homes in the Natural State, after our whirwind tour of the southwest. What a great trip! I have to say, though, I'm glad to be back home with the hubby and the critters. Travelling is exhausting work...especially when you hit it hard like we did with no dilly-dallying.
Really cool valley somewhere in Utah (behind Judith). Judith spotted some elk waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyy far away down in the vally, don't ask me how, but we verified them as elk through the "binos." (side note - "binos" is a term we learned that one uses in overly loud conversation when trying to impress your lady friend as well as nearby tourists, when you're actually full to the brim of absolute crap.)
Another kiva (one of the approximately 14,854 that we saw on the trip) at the Salmon Ruins.
Gouldings museum and trading post, as seen in lots of old westerns I'm sure I've seen at one point in 
time.
Me and John...keeping an eye out for the bad guys.
Monuments at Monument Valley.
"Cliff Palace" at Mesa Verde. We sprung for the guided tour.
Our last stop was in Colorado Springs to visit my brother Trent. For fun we hiked the Manitou Incline...and when I say "fun" I mean the lung-splitting, heart pounding, leg-burning, gasping-for-oxygen kind. But, we made it...I'm not sure I would've without brother's prodding, but here we are at the top.
Here's some more pics from the road:
Pottery sherds (is it sherd or shard?), which were scattered all over the ground at the Tsankawi Ruins at Bandelier. We would have taken some, but aside from being wrong, we just couldn't spring for the $10,000 fine.
Really cool valley somewhere in Utah (behind Judith). Judith spotted some elk waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyy far away down in the vally, don't ask me how, but we verified them as elk through the "binos." (side note - "binos" is a term we learned that one uses in overly loud conversation when trying to impress your lady friend as well as nearby tourists, when you're actually full to the brim of absolute crap.)
Another kiva (one of the approximately 14,854 that we saw on the trip) at the Salmon Ruins.
Inside of the restored Great Kiva at Aztec ruins.
time.Me and John...keeping an eye out for the bad guys.
Monuments at Monument Valley. "Cliff Palace" at Mesa Verde. We sprung for the guided tour.
This was our ranger on the guided tour...she did an excellent job, and was NOT an incredibly arrogant boob like the ranger we would meet later.
Wh
at was really cool about these ruins, is that the complex seen directly behind the ranger are not living spaces, but administrative buildings and storage up high. Just imagine...you're living in a cliff pueblo 700 years ago, and you're STILL mired in bureaucracy. I can imagine it going something like this:
at was really cool about these ruins, is that the complex seen directly behind the ranger are not living spaces, but administrative buildings and storage up high. Just imagine...you're living in a cliff pueblo 700 years ago, and you're STILL mired in bureaucracy. I can imagine it going something like this:"Yes, we did recieve your reqest for a new water jar. However, you improperly filled out Form B, and therefore you must go over to the Balcony House pueblo down the canyon and fill out Forms C, D, and E. Please bring eight forms of I.D. and your damaged water jar to show you do indeed need a new one, and your new water jar will be delivered to you in 6-8 weeks, pending approval."
Judith and I, on our guided tour. In front of a kiva. Again.
More petroglyphs... I HIGHLY recommend Mesa Verde...everything we saw was really awesome, but M.V. just took the cake.
Our last stop was in Colorado Springs to visit my brother Trent. For fun we hiked the Manitou Incline...and when I say "fun" I mean the lung-splitting, heart pounding, leg-burning, gasping-for-oxygen kind. But, we made it...I'm not sure I would've without brother's prodding, but here we are at the top.So that's our Wild West Trip in a very small nutshell. Only just over a week, but a week packed with fun and excitement, which everyone should have every so often. Grab a buddy and just take off, do some tent camping (until your air mattress springs a leak), and just see what you can see. And always remember - if your digital camera gets too full, you can always delete pics!(sorry...inside joke...;)
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Great Wild West Vacation Pics - Part I
Giant turkey spotted in Springdale, AR in the company of a green-shirted tourist...approach with caution.
WHY would someone do this? Because it makes people (like us) whip off the freeway to go look at and pose for photographs with some cadillacs
buried in a field.
Passed this sign in Amarillo. Seems like a lovely place...we might stay there on our way back.
Our first ruins, at Pecos National Historic Park, New Mexico.
Camel Rock, near Santa Fe (and very near Camel Rock Casino)...but I'm pretty sure it's a turtle.
Petroglyphs at Bandelier. Looks like E.T. to me...
WHY would someone do this? Because it makes people (like us) whip off the freeway to go look at and pose for photographs with some cadillacs
buried in a field.Passed this sign in Amarillo. Seems like a lovely place...we might stay there on our way back.
Our first ruins, at Pecos National Historic Park, New Mexico.
Camel Rock, near Santa Fe (and very near Camel Rock Casino)...but I'm pretty sure it's a turtle.
Petroglyphs at Bandelier. Looks like E.T. to me...
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Wild West Adventure - In Progress
Howdy from the Southwest! Coming to you live from Kayenta, Arizona in the Navajo Nation. Judith and I are nearly halfway done with our Great Wild West Adventure 2008, and after four nights of camping, we decided a night of hot showers and warm, soft, comfy beds containing no dirt was in order. I'm still basking in the glow of the Best Shower Ever, in my clean pj's getting free wireless.
So to update you on our progress:
We started out Friday mid-day from Judith's house at Gassville, AR. Before hitting Oklahoma, we whipped out the camera for a first vacation shot: Giant Turkey Statue in Springdale. At least I got one gobbler this season.
Then, on to Oklahoma, where we stopped our first night just west of OK City at Red Rock Canyon State Park. This is our lovely camp (post pics later). After 30 minutes of firewood gathering, and 10 minutes searching for a fire source (we had SAFETY matches with no box), we had a roaring blaze with which to warm our cold toes. For about 10 minutes. Still, it was a success at $8 bucks.
Westward ho!
On to Texas, where we spent some time messing around in the panhandle. If you've been through the panhandle, you'd think there isn't much messing around to do. Oh contraire...because just south of Amarillo is Palo Duro Canyon, which is second only to the Grand Canyon. After a heavy dose of sight-seeing-some-spectacular-scenic-scenery, we headed back to Amarillo and onward west.
Next stop - New Mexico. We messed around looking for the elusive red dot on the map labeled "Site of Coronado's Bridge", which apparently doesn't exist. Eventually we gave up...but we saw more good scenery. We camped the second night at Villanueva State park, which was labeled "quaint state park located on the banks of the Pecos River, near picturesque Spanish Villanueva Village." I'm assuming "quaint" means "people having a big party and playing thumping music" and "picturesque" means "looks like a crack house collection." Nah...it turned out ok and we got a good peaceful night's sleep. The big party was nothing more than a family reunion, which eventually quieted down ( at about 10:30 pm they moved from raucous Mexican and pop hits to Air Supply and Juice Newton) and in the broad daylight the village was pretty quaint after all.
Next - Pecos National Historic Park, where we saw partly prehistoric Pueblo ruins (Anasazi), and partly a rebuilt monastery from the 1600's.
Santa Fe was the next on the list, but since Judith and I have both been there, we didn't spend a lot of time. Plus, it's a city. Bah! This trip is for wide open spaces. However, I did purchase a couple of turquoise and something else necklaces from a Pueblo woman, guaranteed made by herself and her family. I'm not sure how "authentic" the materials are...possibly purchased at Hobby Lobby, but heck...she was nice, and I have two new neclaces, bringing my total jewelry collection up to four.
We made our next stop at Bandelier National Historic park, where we camped for two nights in the quietest and most comfortable campground so far. VERY IMPRESSIVE...we hiked all over looking at ruins where the Asasazi had hollowed out rooms in the highly erosive volcanic rock, then built the square rooms on in front. We also saw LOTS of petroglyphs scratched into the rock. I could look at those all day...that's by far been my favorite part of the trip. Since our comfy campground was sans showers, we had to go into Los Alamos to the Y and shower. I can skip a day here or there, but a day of hard hiking leaves a person pretty funky and dusty. Best $2 I ever spent.
As we headed toward Arizona, we stopped at two more Anasazi ruins, the Salmon Ruins (named for the folks who homesteaded there and protected the ruins from being messed with) and the Aztec ruins (really misnamed, like Toltec Mounds S.P. in Arkansas). Both were really cool.
Next stop - Monument Valley. Until next time...adios! (p.s. - more pics later...taking too long to download)
Sunday, April 27, 2008
More Childhood Entertainment
In response to my post about Schoolhouse Rock, I was reminded by an anonymous commentator of another childhood memory (even harder to remember now that I'm officially 33...*sigh*), one that was likely unique to our family and overactive imaginations.
Once again let's go back to the days of Saturday morning cartoons...when for most kids, the entertainment only began with the actual cartoon broadcast. With my family, it was just not so...we could be entertained by a packing peanut (seriously - take a pen and put some eyeballs on it, and you have an instant caterpillar). In the wee Saturday mornings at Grandma and Grandpa's, we were entertained from the very moment the TV was turned on, no matter how early. You see, not everyone has a cousin who aspired to be a meterologist, as Jodie most definately did. Every Saturday of cartoon watching, Chad (my other cousin) and I were treated to a weather forecast while we waited for the cartoons to start.
Yep, this is the color screen which I believe is actually used to calibrate cameras. But to us, it was weather. Jodie was quite the weather girl, sometimes even using a yardstick as a pointer. As I remember, the weather usually broke down something like this:
It wasn't always the same...of course the weather changes. And Jodie was VERY official, with comments like, "Today in the nation's midsection, they will be experiencing high levels of sunshine. However, in Alaska, they will be having strong snow storms followed by hail. In California...tornados." We were fascinated, and begged for repeated forecasts. And when Trent and Tye joined the fray, they also demanded a forecast. Only Jodie could give an accurate one, though.
Our weather forecast was usually concluded with the National Anthem, followed of course by cartoons and a happy afternoon of playing outside. And though we thoroughly enjoyed them all, nothing beat The Forecast.
To this day, I can't see a color bar screen without thinking of the weather. Jodie truly missed her calling.
Once again let's go back to the days of Saturday morning cartoons...when for most kids, the entertainment only began with the actual cartoon broadcast. With my family, it was just not so...we could be entertained by a packing peanut (seriously - take a pen and put some eyeballs on it, and you have an instant caterpillar). In the wee Saturday mornings at Grandma and Grandpa's, we were entertained from the very moment the TV was turned on, no matter how early. You see, not everyone has a cousin who aspired to be a meterologist, as Jodie most definately did. Every Saturday of cartoon watching, Chad (my other cousin) and I were treated to a weather forecast while we waited for the cartoons to start.Yep, this is the color screen which I believe is actually used to calibrate cameras. But to us, it was weather. Jodie was quite the weather girl, sometimes even using a yardstick as a pointer. As I remember, the weather usually broke down something like this:
It wasn't always the same...of course the weather changes. And Jodie was VERY official, with comments like, "Today in the nation's midsection, they will be experiencing high levels of sunshine. However, in Alaska, they will be having strong snow storms followed by hail. In California...tornados." We were fascinated, and begged for repeated forecasts. And when Trent and Tye joined the fray, they also demanded a forecast. Only Jodie could give an accurate one, though.Our weather forecast was usually concluded with the National Anthem, followed of course by cartoons and a happy afternoon of playing outside. And though we thoroughly enjoyed them all, nothing beat The Forecast.
To this day, I can't see a color bar screen without thinking of the weather. Jodie truly missed her calling.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Why I Exercise at Home
This is why, even if I lived close to a gym, I wouldn't join. I had a similar experience with a treadmill at the Joplin Family Y once...
Blast From the Past
Remember watching Saturday morning cartoons? You know...back when we had three channels, and cartoon
s were for Saturday morning only - before Cartoon Network, and the myriad of other Disney, Nick, and whatever 24-7 cartoon channels there are now. Anyone who was a kid in those days MUST remember the animated educational shorts covering grammar, history, and government - School House Rock. I used to love those! And wonder of wonders, they are ALL on YouTube!
Check them out for a rocket back into childhood. Marden and I stayed up late one night watching all of them.
Here's my very favorite, "Interjections."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6QsEMSVdedc
Or another fav - "A Noun is a Person, Place, or Thing";
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZOoGJmZdfMc&feature=related
And I would've never remembered my planets without "Interplanet Janet";
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PfPEvKsme-c
And here's Marden's favorite (about pronouns), "Rufus Xavier Saspararilla"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hOaty7FpwMI&feature=related
And one of the great American History ones:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ofYmhlclqr4&feature=related
There are too many good ones to list! Just go check 'em out for a good dose of nostalgia...some are more annoying than I remember, but most are pretty great. Cheesy and dated, but great.
Mom, after helping you grade papers...I think your kids could use a dose. :)
s were for Saturday morning only - before Cartoon Network, and the myriad of other Disney, Nick, and whatever 24-7 cartoon channels there are now. Anyone who was a kid in those days MUST remember the animated educational shorts covering grammar, history, and government - School House Rock. I used to love those! And wonder of wonders, they are ALL on YouTube!Check them out for a rocket back into childhood. Marden and I stayed up late one night watching all of them.
Here's my very favorite, "Interjections."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6QsEMSVdedc
Or another fav - "A Noun is a Person, Place, or Thing";
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZOoGJmZdfMc&feature=related
And I would've never remembered my planets without "Interplanet Janet";
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PfPEvKsme-c
And here's Marden's favorite (about pronouns), "Rufus Xavier Saspararilla"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hOaty7FpwMI&feature=related
And one of the great American History ones:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ofYmhlclqr4&feature=related
There are too many good ones to list! Just go check 'em out for a good dose of nostalgia...some are more annoying than I remember, but most are pretty great. Cheesy and dated, but great.
Mom, after helping you grade papers...I think your kids could use a dose. :)
Sunday, April 20, 2008
The Coop in the Sky Has 10 More Residents
Today dawned a beautiful, sunny, warm day...a fine day for Team Meatie to fulfull their destiny. Without saying too much in sympathy with the squeamish, it really wasn't that bad. It was quick, hopefully painless (for the chickies), and went relatively fast for a newbie...approximately 30 minutes per chicken from start, to plucking, to finish.
Au Revior Meaties...I will not miss moving your poopy pen, feeding your ravenous single-minded selves, or constantly keeping you out of the rain, warm in the cold, and tending to your every need. But I rest easy knowing I did all these things well, and that you had good lives.
And I look forward to supper...
Friday, April 18, 2008
Mad Kitty
So the last post was kinda heavy, so I'm following up with this pic of Sam...post-bath. He's not happy, as he never is after a bath. And it takes him DAYS to recover before he starts acting sociable again, and before he gets back to his full poofiness. Heh...it never gets old...Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Invasive Non-Native Species
While this term is usually reserved for critters and plants, today I am relating it to people. We just found out that the cattle ranch up for sale over the ridge facing our house has sold - to some real estate developers who have already chopped it up into plots and cleared many many many trees. Every day I now hear the rattle and rumblings of big equipment, and it makes me sad. Unfortunately, we live in an area for sale, and an area which has really become popular with retirees. All of it seems to be for sale...farmers and ranchers can't afford to stay in business anymore, and thanks to ETHANOL, which has driven up the cost of corn so high that feed is absolutely ridiculous, the death knell is sounding for a lot of farms. In this area near the lakes, that translates to being bought, chopped up, and sold at horrendous prices to all these retired imports from Chicago, Wisconsin, Florida, and California. Areas where land prices are jacked up anyway, so what seems absolutely ridiculous for us is pocket change for them. I guess Florida got too crowded and expensive, so now they're going to crowd and carve up Arkansas. If the Ozarks have to be carved up and crowded, it would be easier to swallow if it were at least people from the genaral area with the same ways and attitudes.
These are the folks I'm referring to in the title. Invasive Non-Native Species are usually unwanted and detrimental to the native species. Now, I don't meant to fault anyone for wanting to spend their retirement years in a nice quiet place, but it goes way beyond just settling down somewhere to blend in with the local population. These Invasive Non-Natives, (or INNS, as I now call them) seem to comprimise at least 60%-70% (in my estimate) of the local population, so running into one is a pretty high percentage. I've noticed definate undesirable trends with the INNS. First, they seem to see real locals - people who grew up in Arkansas, and even Missouri (yikes - that's me), or I've further found out - anybody in the general southern regions, as backward, ignorant, redneck slobs who are just DARN LUCKY that people from the northern civilized areas are moving in to save us from ourselves. I overheard one talking the other day...saying something about had northerners not started moving down here, for goodness sake we'd still be driving around on dirt roads living in cabins, "don'tcha know"...and "those ignorant locals don't know how thankful they should be."
I just about said something...maybe I should have, but I don't know what it would've been. But this attitude amongst the INNS seems very common, so yes...I'm generalizing and stereotyping. This isn't to say there aren't nice imports...I don't count them into the category of INNS. However, the majority have left a really bad taste in my mouth, and when is enough enough? They want to move away from their native north, but then want to make things here just like up there. Recently I was asked by a native local where I was from originally. When I said "Southwest Missouri", he said, "whew! That's kind of a breath of fresh air...I'm so sick of yankees coming in here telling us how to do things I could scream." Not only was I glad I didn't fit the "yankee category", I can see how he's reached that attitude. I also heard recently that a former Chicago-ite got together a petition to ban livestock near his home because he was bothered somehow. Never mind that the livestock was there before he built his retirement dream home. That's like moving to the desert and then complaining that there are too many cactus..
But, it's really a catch-22. Hubby's family owns a large, very pretty farm not far away, minus the lakes. Very few INNS are moving into the area...there's just not much to do. Unfortunately for us...there's not much for us to do either. Local economy is really struggling, not helped at all by all industry having now pulled up stakes. I expect that had the lakes here not been built, this area would be just as depressed. No INNS, but nothing else either.
I guess I'm wanting that perfect utopia. To have our little farm without worrying what's going up across the road...to go fishing without looking up at the bank to see that they are cramming yet ANOTHER house onto the bank (likely built by an INN with money), and also mowing down the bank trees so house residents will have their nice uninterrupted view of the water. To be able to have cows, chickens, pigs, and whatever else we want without worrying that someone is going to petition for a ban against livestock near their home. I'm not sure there is such a place...
And we're totaly hypocrits. Our 20 acres was once part of a cattle farm.
Anyway, it's not just going on here...it's pretty much everywhere, just more accelerated in some areas. I heard a few days ago about a pig farmer near North Little Rock. He'd been farming pigs for years, but lately big sub-divisions went up around his farm...and you guessed what happened. Those snooty suburbanites (and there are a LOT in Little Rock) wanted to move out "to the country", but didn't like the country smells that were there first. So they did what any American now with an entitlement issue does - they sued.
These are the folks I'm referring to in the title. Invasive Non-Native Species are usually unwanted and detrimental to the native species. Now, I don't meant to fault anyone for wanting to spend their retirement years in a nice quiet place, but it goes way beyond just settling down somewhere to blend in with the local population. These Invasive Non-Natives, (or INNS, as I now call them) seem to comprimise at least 60%-70% (in my estimate) of the local population, so running into one is a pretty high percentage. I've noticed definate undesirable trends with the INNS. First, they seem to see real locals - people who grew up in Arkansas, and even Missouri (yikes - that's me), or I've further found out - anybody in the general southern regions, as backward, ignorant, redneck slobs who are just DARN LUCKY that people from the northern civilized areas are moving in to save us from ourselves. I overheard one talking the other day...saying something about had northerners not started moving down here, for goodness sake we'd still be driving around on dirt roads living in cabins, "don'tcha know"...and "those ignorant locals don't know how thankful they should be."
I just about said something...maybe I should have, but I don't know what it would've been. But this attitude amongst the INNS seems very common, so yes...I'm generalizing and stereotyping. This isn't to say there aren't nice imports...I don't count them into the category of INNS. However, the majority have left a really bad taste in my mouth, and when is enough enough? They want to move away from their native north, but then want to make things here just like up there. Recently I was asked by a native local where I was from originally. When I said "Southwest Missouri", he said, "whew! That's kind of a breath of fresh air...I'm so sick of yankees coming in here telling us how to do things I could scream." Not only was I glad I didn't fit the "yankee category", I can see how he's reached that attitude. I also heard recently that a former Chicago-ite got together a petition to ban livestock near his home because he was bothered somehow. Never mind that the livestock was there before he built his retirement dream home. That's like moving to the desert and then complaining that there are too many cactus..
But, it's really a catch-22. Hubby's family owns a large, very pretty farm not far away, minus the lakes. Very few INNS are moving into the area...there's just not much to do. Unfortunately for us...there's not much for us to do either. Local economy is really struggling, not helped at all by all industry having now pulled up stakes. I expect that had the lakes here not been built, this area would be just as depressed. No INNS, but nothing else either.
I guess I'm wanting that perfect utopia. To have our little farm without worrying what's going up across the road...to go fishing without looking up at the bank to see that they are cramming yet ANOTHER house onto the bank (likely built by an INN with money), and also mowing down the bank trees so house residents will have their nice uninterrupted view of the water. To be able to have cows, chickens, pigs, and whatever else we want without worrying that someone is going to petition for a ban against livestock near their home. I'm not sure there is such a place...
And we're totaly hypocrits. Our 20 acres was once part of a cattle farm.
Anyway, it's not just going on here...it's pretty much everywhere, just more accelerated in some areas. I heard a few days ago about a pig farmer near North Little Rock. He'd been farming pigs for years, but lately big sub-divisions went up around his farm...and you guessed what happened. Those snooty suburbanites (and there are a LOT in Little Rock) wanted to move out "to the country", but didn't like the country smells that were there first. So they did what any American now with an entitlement issue does - they sued.
However, they lost. Pig farmer was there first...and he DOUBLED his herd. Heh. You go pig farmer.
No that I'm a big fan of pig farmers...mom and dad have the opposite problem. They had a neighbor put in a pig farm amongst neighbors who'd been there for years. Now there's a lovely fragrance when the wind is from the right direction. That is completely different...that's just being incredibly rude to your neighbors. It all comes down to who was there first and the general attitude.
And that's my social commentary for today.
On to other brighter news. Yes, I am happy to report another dry day here, and the little cold snap seems to be over. Let's hope it's over until Fall. We're still seeing a lot of effects from all the rain, though. Dams have been running at full power plus, with water coming out of the flood gates. Norfork Lake is still the color of chocolate pudding. Every time I head into town and cross the lake, I think of Bill Cosby saying, "Eat the puddin." I haven't made it over to Bull Shoals, but I'm betting that lake is also brown. And really high. Which translates to constant water generation from both dams, which further translates to TERRIBLE TROUT FISHING for me. I guess that's preferrable to a broken dam, but still. Well, things are looking brighter...poor Daryl is worried about his new dock at the State Park, though. However, I'm pretty confident that it'll be ok. Think positive Daryl!Saturday, April 12, 2008
Walkin' in Memphis
Yeah yeah...cheesy title. But that's what I was doing yesterday...actually, it should be titled, "Walkin' in Memphis and Spendin' Some Money." I'm back now after a little break from the Homestead. Sometimes you just need a break, and sometimes the opportunity presents itself. Last week I was getting a little overwhelmed with the garden beds, and then I had a chicken disaster. Yep. I'm down from 14 Eggers to 12.
One night last week I went to check the garage, and just walked out to see how the chicks were. OOOOHH NOOOO....one of the little doors was open. OPEN??? I SWEAR I closed it...but apparently the spring catch didn't "catch", so I started counting chickens. I got up to 12...crap. Upon inspection of the yard about 40 feet away, I found a pair of little chicken feet...a Buff Orpington was no more. I was also missing a Barred Rock, but no signs of it. No feathers...no nothing but feet...which means usually one thing - DOG. And I just happen to own two already confirmed chicken-killers.
Despite "responsibility", I did make quite a haul. Everything from hard-to-find heirloom tomato plants to crepe myrtles (I bought 6, but two for mom), a fire bush (last one in the whole nursery), various herbs, rare hostas, some perennial flowers (including a really nice clematis), and some annual daisies. Anyone who knows me the least little bit knows I'm a SUCKER for daisies. I got two bunches of the ones pictured at right...the white African Daisy.
One night last week I went to check the garage, and just walked out to see how the chicks were. OOOOHH NOOOO....one of the little doors was open. OPEN??? I SWEAR I closed it...but apparently the spring catch didn't "catch", so I started counting chickens. I got up to 12...crap. Upon inspection of the yard about 40 feet away, I found a pair of little chicken feet...a Buff Orpington was no more. I was also missing a Barred Rock, but no signs of it. No feathers...no nothing but feet...which means usually one thing - DOG. And I just happen to own two already confirmed chicken-killers.Note to brothers - I need NO snide comments concerning Lucy and how any kind of Chicken Karma has come back to haunt me...so zip it...I don't need your lip.
Well, I was pretty darn upset...I lost the one Buff Orp chick at 2 days old, but that wasn't NEARLY as tough as losing two 7-week olds to a predator. I mean...the work, the worry, the hassle of getting them to this age...it's not that I'm especially attached to the chickens...they haven't exactly reached "pet status", but they do count on me not only for food and water, but to keep them safe, and I blew it. Dogs will be dogs, but not checking that the latch wasn't latched securely lays blame squarely on me.
I'm pretty much over it now. I did get extra in case of an incident like this (I really thought it would be a coon, a hawk, or something like that), so for the time being I'm not replacing the lost chickens with new chicks. Mostly because new chicks = three weeks of nearly constant vigilance, and the house smelling like a barn again. But I've increased my vigilance to avoid this happening again in the near future.
So for my mini-break, I went to visit my old parkie friends Kristyn, Randall, and Kendra over at Lake Charles, and on Friday I went on the Big Memphis Plant Hunt with Kristyn, Corinne, and Corinne's really cool friend Melody. We went to a fundraiser for the Memphis Botanical Garden, several nurseries, and topped it off at the Bonsai Nursery. It was awesome. It was amazing. It was a near-religious experience punctuated by Marden's uttering of the words that make every woman's knees go weak - "use the plastic."
Luckily for our bank account I'm not like most women my age, or that plastic would have been rendered "Maxed Beyond Recognition" within short order. But I surscribe rigidly to putting no more on the card than we can pay off when the bill comes. Darn responsibility. If not for "responsibility", in addition to limited cargo space, we'd be in trouble.
Despite "responsibility", I did make quite a haul. Everything from hard-to-find heirloom tomato plants to crepe myrtles (I bought 6, but two for mom), a fire bush (last one in the whole nursery), various herbs, rare hostas, some perennial flowers (including a really nice clematis), and some annual daisies. Anyone who knows me the least little bit knows I'm a SUCKER for daisies. I got two bunches of the ones pictured at right...the white African Daisy.The Bonsai Nursery was really the kicker. WOW
. There are no words for some of these trees...check this one out! None of these were for sale, but those that were in this size range were topping $4,000. Nope...that's the right amount of zeros. $4K smackers. However, if I were a bazillionaire and had the know-how, I'd have a few. As it is, I think I'm going to have to be content with the "practice tree" that Corinne gave me for free which is on it's last legs (er roots), that I can practice bonsai techniques on. Like I have nothing else to do...but I've wanted to get into bonsai for at least ten years when I bought some bonsai books at a garage sale. Ok, let's face it...really since The Karate Kid. If I can just successfully re-pot this ficus and keep it alive for a little while, MAYBE I'll feel brave enough to drop $25...POSSIBLY up to $45...on a nursery bonsai.
. There are no words for some of these trees...check this one out! None of these were for sale, but those that were in this size range were topping $4,000. Nope...that's the right amount of zeros. $4K smackers. However, if I were a bazillionaire and had the know-how, I'd have a few. As it is, I think I'm going to have to be content with the "practice tree" that Corinne gave me for free which is on it's last legs (er roots), that I can practice bonsai techniques on. Like I have nothing else to do...but I've wanted to get into bonsai for at least ten years when I bought some bonsai books at a garage sale. Ok, let's face it...really since The Karate Kid. If I can just successfully re-pot this ficus and keep it alive for a little while, MAYBE I'll feel brave enough to drop $25...POSSIBLY up to $45...on a nursery bonsai. So I'm going to sign off tonight with a couple pics, one of Team Meaty enjoying one more week, and one of Team Piggie (Whitey and Petunia) snoozing in the shade. And a bonus picture of Farmer Marden on Buford the blue Ford tractor.
Friday, April 04, 2008
Walmart
Today I made the weekly foray into town for provisions, which usually means a stop at Walmart. I pulled into the parking lot to see that apparently everyone in town plus the residents from every neighboring county had the same idea. At times like this in the past, I've decided to go on a different day or to go elsewhere. However, my pantry was bare, and I didn't have any coupons for the other grocery stores, which usually means spending significantly more money. In addition...Walmart is on my side of town, and for some reason EVERYBODY decided to get out and drive around Mountain Home today. I didn't want to battle the traffic...even if I do have to pay .08 cents more for a can of beans. I wonder if there was a parade I missed? Was the President in town? A dog show? In any case, I just wanted to get my stuff and get home, so I descend into the open maw of double doors, only to realize that they are... remodeling.
What? Why is it necessary to remodel Walmart? I just found where things are, and this was already the most jacked-up Walmart I've ever seen. But I muster my courage and soldier on. While trying to find a certain hook-latch contraption for the chicken coop, I could hear the old people, and they are not happy. I can completely understand. While I find it exceptionally annoying that they're moving everything around, I have grown begrudgingly accustomed to these inconveniences. But, I can only imagine what it's like for a person who grew up in the era of small stores, friendly sales people, and not having to tramp all over tarnation to get a simple light bulb. When going shopping was an enjoyable outing, not a task I usually lump in with "scrubbing the toilet."
I was browsing the area where I thought these latches might be, when I heard a loud and gravelly, "GOOD GOD-ALMIGHTY HERE I CAME ALL THE WAY OVER HERE FOR A COTTON-PICKIN' FLOOR HEATER AND THEY'VE GONE AND MOVED EVERYTHING AROUND!!!", coming from behind me. I turned to see a very red-faced old man shuffling up the aisle cussing a blue streak and glaring. I got out of there. Perhaps I should have helped him find the floor heaters, but for all I know they are now kept where the Pharmacy was, and he looked like he had it out for anyone under the age of 65. And I did find my latch...where the plumbing supplies used to be. As I made my way over to groceries, I heard many more of these exclamations. It's amazing that Walmart has us so over a barrel that they can tick us off this much, yet we're still shopping there.
After getting my groceries in record time, I head for the cashiers and picked the shortest line. I either have a knack for picking unfriendly cashiers, or they are just mostly unfriendly. Again, I can understand. Walmart cashier is probably not first on most people's list for a job.
I knew I'd just ruined my cashier's day when I plopped down my resuable shopping bags. Now, I purch
ased these bags at Walmart...they sell them so fast they can't keep them in stock, yet I NEVER see anyone else using them! I think they're great...not only do I avoid the Mt. McKinley stacks of white plastic in my pantry (you can only use so many for wastbasket liners), but the resuable ones hold 5x more AND they sit up in your car! Not only do my canned beans stay put instead of rolling into every corner of my car, but I can now get everything in the house in 1-2 comfortable trips instead of 50 with the plastic cutting into your hand. But who's using them besides me? I can't believe everyone's not using them...I mean besides the environmental benefits, they are just way more practical. The only drawback is carrying them into the store...but since they fold up nicely, they are definately less of a pain than a purse. I guess another drawback are the looks you get; "Look at you with your holier-than-thou reusable shopping bags...obviously a liberal Democrat (which I am most definately not) AND an environmental wacko who's too good to use regular shopping bags..."
ased these bags at Walmart...they sell them so fast they can't keep them in stock, yet I NEVER see anyone else using them! I think they're great...not only do I avoid the Mt. McKinley stacks of white plastic in my pantry (you can only use so many for wastbasket liners), but the resuable ones hold 5x more AND they sit up in your car! Not only do my canned beans stay put instead of rolling into every corner of my car, but I can now get everything in the house in 1-2 comfortable trips instead of 50 with the plastic cutting into your hand. But who's using them besides me? I can't believe everyone's not using them...I mean besides the environmental benefits, they are just way more practical. The only drawback is carrying them into the store...but since they fold up nicely, they are definately less of a pain than a purse. I guess another drawback are the looks you get; "Look at you with your holier-than-thou reusable shopping bags...obviously a liberal Democrat (which I am most definately not) AND an environmental wacko who's too good to use regular shopping bags..."Which is funny, because in a lot of places, especially toward the coasts, I hear there is a lot of peer pressure to use reusable bags. Here, you're an oddball.
But back to the cashier - this lady wasn't happy. Apparently, they're not quite as easy to fill as having a ready-to-go plastic bag on the turntable thing. She gave me a look, sighed, took a bag, sighed, and started filling it. Then I proceeded to make her even unhappier. You can get a LOT of stuff in those bags...last trip to Walmart I had an Asian cashier who stuffed those suckers full, and seemed to get the fact that I was using these bags to AVOID the plastic ones. Today's sourpuss cashier was only filling them half full. She then tried putting stuff in a plastic sack, and I said (smiling), "Think you can get more in there?" And she gave me another look, sighed, and proceeded to fill the reusable bag. Toward the end of my purchases, she again filled two plastic sacks. After I paid and had my cart full and she'd started on the next customer, I removed the items from the plastic sacks and found spots in the reusable sacks, and replaced the plastic sacks onto her turntable. I got another glare. I smiled and proceeded to the parking lot...where I got more odd and questioning looks on the way to the car. I'm getting used to it...I just smile and nod.
Moral of the story? I dunno...go to Walmart at midnight.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Into the Wild
Mr. Hooter and I watched a very good movie the other night, called "Into the Wild", which has been on my mind ever since we watched it. It's based on the book "Into the Wild", which is based on the journals of Chris McCandless of how in the early 90's he abruptly left his affluent life after college, as well as family, to hit the road backpacking across the country to eventually reach Alaska to live in harmony with nature.I remember this story from my high school days, when the discovery of his body in an old bus in a wilderness area of Alaska after an apparent death by starvation propelled his tale into the limelight. I was always fascinated by it...I don't really know why, as it seems clear that Chris was very idealistic and met his end by not being very smart. At the time, as well as now, his story is romanticized and he's become a cult figure and inspiration for many people taking off to backpack across the country, a lot of times making the crusade to the bus where his body was found, which is still there. If he hadn't written a journal, he'd just been forgotten as another crazy hippie. It's really a tragic story, but Chris had guts, and he had quite an interesting life in his last couple of years. I think that's why so many people, including myself, find the story really strikes a chord. I think whether we want to admit it or not, we all have the desire to break away from the mundane, from "society", and from the expected norm.
Or maybe that makes me, as one former co-worker put it..."quirky." Ever since I read the book "My Side of the Mountain" in grade school I've had the overwhelming desire to leave it all and go live in the woods, despite the fact that the more rational side of me knows that, like Chris, I'd find that kind of life isn't all sunshine and flowers. I felt the same way after watching a documentary a couple years ago about ski bums. Wow...I could do that...why not? I could really see myself in Colorado (pre Mr. Hooter of course) being a ski bum in winter, trout bum in summer, working odd jobs here and there to get the funds for both. Even hubby suggests every so often we go be ski/trout bums...but it's totally in jest. We don't have the guts. Besides...the pigs couldn't fit in the car, and Lucy only has three legs so she can't ski.
I guess I'm destined to live life pulled in two directions. On one side, the pull to go against the norms of society toward freedom, and on the other the desire to "nest", which is a malady that seems to resonate in my particular gender. The desire to carve out a nitch that's all my own, and that's permanent. Maybe I've got the best of both worlds, living out of the city surrounded by nature and my critters trying to do the homesteading thing. Either way, even though I can't (or won't) go traipsing off into the sunset with a backpack, I can still keep an adventurous spirit and never quit wondering "what if"...
This was probably my favorite part of the movie...Chris makes an illegal trip kayaking down the Colorado River. Apparently, you have to have a permit...which can take YEARS to get...all to kayak down a river. Though I suppose there are reasons, I found that as ridiculous and as oppressive as movie-Chris did...reminds me of the Socialism being currently crammed down our throats. But...that's another topic for another day...
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Manna from Heaven
As if in answer to my last post lamenting our dismal raised bed situation, our prayers have been answered! I do doubt God had anything to do with our windfall, but maybe He at least put in a good word with the garden gnomes. In any case, Providence of some kind has definately shown down on us.
So in my last post, I was lamenting the fact that our raised garden beds just weren't gonna cut it. I'd decided that what we HAD to have if were going to do the raised bed thing and do it right was some rough-cut cedar lumber...probably the sturdiest rot resistant stuff we could get that wouldn't cost a fortune. We checked into railroad ties, but the cresote that constantly leaches out of those are supposed to be bad news for your tender veggies. So we decided cedar was the route to go. I looked online at raised beds...most of which do seem to be made of cedar. I found all sorts of places to order raised bed kits...the cheapest of which was about $150 for a 4' x 8'x12" bed. *GACK*
None of that...we'll do it ourselves. After Marden checked the prices at local sawmills, we figured on a minimum of $25 per 4' x 8'x12" bed. Doesn't sound like a fortune, but it can add up quick. I'm not even sure of how many beds we're going to put in, but originally I had figured on at least 8 beds to get in most of what I wanted to plant...even omitting a few things. Now I've never been accused of being a math whiz, but I believe that's $200. Again, not a fortune, but we are in desperate need of a riding lawnmower, and Mr. Hooter has not yet gotten his promised promotion (nor promotion pay). And it also gets to the point where you have to wonder if $$$ spent on a garden is worth it in the end - the point is to save money on produce. But if you spend major bucks on getting your garden together, where is the savings? $200 will buy a lot of tomatos. As will the $100 we spent already on a load of dirt.
So back to my long-winded story...Mr. Hooter is calling around to sawmills trying to find the cheapest cedar possible, when a guy he works with pops in and says, "Hey...you looking for cedar boards? I'll give you some for free!" I'm sure this man, Mr. Murphy, had a halo and wings. While that fact may be deb
atable, what is not is that he ended up not having just a piddly pile, BUT about FOUR truckloads of all the rough-cut cedar I could possibly find uses for...did I mention for FREE??? We're talking good heavy stuff originally purchased for furniture-making by this guy's dad. He just wanted rid of it. And as I was picking through the brown recluse-riddled stacks (the largest suckers I've ever seen, by the way), getting filthy dirty and choking on years of dust, I was downright giddy. I would never have guessed a truckload of dirty lumber would ever have made me so happy, but talk about getting EXACTLY what you need at EXACTLY the right time - it's uncanny!
atable, what is not is that he ended up not having just a piddly pile, BUT about FOUR truckloads of all the rough-cut cedar I could possibly find uses for...did I mention for FREE??? We're talking good heavy stuff originally purchased for furniture-making by this guy's dad. He just wanted rid of it. And as I was picking through the brown recluse-riddled stacks (the largest suckers I've ever seen, by the way), getting filthy dirty and choking on years of dust, I was downright giddy. I would never have guessed a truckload of dirty lumber would ever have made me so happy, but talk about getting EXACTLY what you need at EXACTLY the right time - it's uncanny!Now I need to try this again...lawnmower....lawnmower....lawnmower...
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