Murder

WARNING: some of the images posted in this blog may be considered to be objectionable or offensive by some readers. Not for the faint of heart.

I have seen some gruesome things in my life. Calf-pulling, deer-gutting, road-kill, child-birth, toddlers vomiting in the toy box at 3 a.m. and on and on. Farming and parenthood is not for the squeamish.

This morning, I was horrified by what I found in my living room floor. Please be aware the the images you are about to see are quite disturbing

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Oh, the massacre!!

The pure carnage!!

Oh, the facial lacerations!

Oh, the disembowelment!

...and who could have committed this heinous crime??

?

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WHO ME?? Precious, sweet, darling, little ol' me?

Under that cute and lovable exterior, lies the heart of a killer.

If you feed them, they will come

Feed the birds, tuppence a bag

tuppence tuppence tuppence a bag.

Come feed the little birds show them you care

and you'll be glad if you do

The young ones are hungry, their nests are so bare

all it takes is tuppence from you...

Pardon me, that song is in my head a lot, especially when one of my daily "chores" becomes feeding the birds. I have no idea what a tuppence is, but if I had one I would surely sacrifice it for bird feeding.

As soon as the leaves start falling I start putting out bird seed. The thrill of watching them congregate as the season presses on is very rewarding. Usually, most of the birds that gather on my porch are finches, cardinals, sparrows, and the occasional woodpecker. Once in a while I'll have a stranger appear, and then it's

Joy

and

Rapture

Early this fall I had a little stranger appear and didn't bother to ask his name. Fall is a time for birds to migrate and I figured he was on his way somewhere warm and tropical and I didn't want to become jealous and then miss him when he left, so I tried to ignore his presence.

But he kept coming back. Again and again.

Not only did he come to eat, but he was quite inquisitive and would fly within just feet of me, cock his bright little eye my direction and do everything but introduce himself. I've watched him closely and observed his song and his mannerisms and assumed he was a form of woodpecker or sapsucker. He does that fascinating rowing motion when he flies as most woodpeckers do.

I decided that I wasn't THAT expert on bird identification and probably should find out his name since he seemed intent on staying around.

I thumbed through the woodpecker section in my bird book and he wasn't there! So, further I researched and

hot diggity dog I found him!

He is a white-breasted Nuthatch.

You know what my favorite thing about this information is? Nuthatch is way fun to say!!

NUTHATCH

NUTHATCH

NUTHATCH

Ok, so now I have a new friend and his name is Nuthatch. I've discovered that there is more than one attending meals around here too! I so hope that they stay and that they feel welcome. I try so hard to accommodate them well.

While I was reading about them, I learned that they are quite inquisitive little birds and are very tame at feeders...pssshht. I already knew that.

Love,

Mary Poppins

A Lovely Woman

My sweet little family traveled to Nacogdoches on Wednesday to lay to rest our YaYa. She became YaYa to me over 18 years ago when I married Rodney.

It is always so hard to say goodbye to someone who you love. I have learned that there are certain people whom God places in your path to make it brighter and more pleasant a journey and she was certainly one of those people. When they are gone from that path, it leaves you wondering how life will ever be so beautiful again...and then I remember all the things she taught me and feel a call to pass these things on.

She taught me so many things, not the least of which was that I want to be like her when I "grow up". She taught me everything from the proper way to put-up peas to secrets in quieting a colicky baby. She made me laugh a lot... and not on purpose which is always the most genuine laughter. This woman was a pillar of strength in a tiny woman's frame. The stories that she shared with me sitting quietly at her table will always be present in my heart.

She was the mother of 3 boys and she raised them well. This alone is a feat of endurance that I can't even imagine. She went on to help raise my husband to be the man he is today. The influence she had on him and the way he loved her in return is one of the sweetest things I've ever had the privilege to witness.

As Rodney and I were reminiscing and reflecting upon her life we both became aware that it would now be our turn to be the ones of influence. Now that she is gone, who will be here to carry on that flame of strength, of character and of wisdom? It is left to us to keep that spirit alive. To make sure that the generations to come will find honor in their elders and will aspire to be like us as we aspire to be like her. To live our lives in a way that will honor her and cause her to be proud of our accomplishments and our strength. Prayerfully and painstakingly we will raise our children. We will do it with great joy and laughter and make memories of our own.

God blessed us with this lovely woman. She will always be a part of us.

Snicker Doodles

We awoke this morning to much cooler temperatures and as the morning has progressed the temperature continues to fall. The warmer weather has been keeping me busy and I've been relishing every moment of it. However, the cold rouses in me that spirit of the holidays and I start to get all sentimental and mushy and my baking neurotransmitters are awakened.

Last night as I was browsing around on Facebook looking at pictures and reading what everybody was up to, I came across pictures of my sweet friend Tori baking snicker doodles. Tori once made me chocolate chip pancakes because I was having a bad morning. I was very pregnant with Kyle and not feeling well and my cat had gotten run over so she just showed up, with all the ingredients and whipped up a batch of the yummiest pancakes ever right in my kitchen. This contributed greatly, I'm sure, to why Kyle was born all cute and fat! I'll never forget that sweet act of kindness.

Anyway, Kyle is home this morning recovering from the flu and he said "Mom, you know what would really be good?" "what's that baby?" I replied..."Snicker Doodles!" It was at this point that I got a tickle in my tummy and wondered how he knew that I'd been thinking about snicker doodles since last night. They are magical little confections on so many levels, I'm sure Tori would agree.

Ah yes, the cold weather has definitely awakened my holiday cheer. I have half a mind to get out my Christmas decor and turn on holiday music. My home is filled with such a hypnotic aroma right now that I'm actually a little bit high. This cookie is not only magical but a little bit narcotic. I'm not sure if it is the crunchy yet chewy consistency, the perfect way they crack open at the top, the bouquet of cinnamon and sugar, or that glorious taste of buttery, sugary sweetness but they are heavenly...(and joyful and triumphant!)

I spy

Autumn is so glorious and awesome that there are hardly words to describe it. The sun has been shining for nearly a week now which explains my neglect of this blog. You can almost bet that when I am not blogging that the weather is keeping me occupied elsewhere.

Autumn brings with her the thrill of the hunt. The meat that we eat here on the farm has either been raised on the farm or harvested from the wilderness that surrounds us. This brings me a joy and fulfillment that I can't describe. So as we get deeper into the season and as hunting season approaches, the scouting begins.

One of the awesome things about where my little double-wide-cottage is located, is that we are sitting in a prime location for hunting and spotting deer. My fearless hunters are usually more likely to bring home a deer from the woods than from my back deck just because, well, it's way more fun to hunt in the woods than it is to just open your back door and kill a deer grazing in the field. That's why it is called "hunting".

We do love to keep track of the deer activity out our back door. We see the same deer so many times that we begin to feel connected to them and actually start to feel a little bit hopeful that they make it through the season. No names have been assigned to them except for things like "the little eight-point" or "the doe and her yearlings" or "the big buck".

I love that we keep a pair of binoculars by the door. I remember my Mamaw doing this always and not really "getting" it when I was younger. Now that I'm older and have my own door that overlooks a pasture, I can't imagine not having binoculars handy at all times.

What could be more fun than surveying a large open field for wildlife I ask you? Maybe watching the two most precious men in my life standing there, scouting, planning, laughing, discussing and plotting this years hunt. I will forevermore be grateful for little things such as this. The quite moments that make me realize how blessed I am, for my family, for my life, and for the Creator who put this whole magical thing together.

Etoufee

There are very few things in life that sustain my existence. The love of God, the love of my family, and my dad's Etoufee (for you non-cajuns this is pronounced eh-too-fay). Dad prepares this life-sustaining creole dish a few times a year and I barely make it from one pot to the next.

The production of making Etoufee is quite an ordeal and requires a full staff of family members to pull the whole thing off. I mean you can make it by yourself if you want to but it isn't nearly as fun.

See, see how much fun it is.

The most important element in Etoufee is the roux (pronounce roo). Dad has figured out how to make the perfect roux with the least amount of effort. Add one cup of oil and one cup of flour to an iron skillet and stick that baby in the OVEN instead of standing over a hot stove for hours. If you want all the specific details of this recipe you'll have to ask him.

Chopping food in my mother's kitchen is another of my favorite things. It's amazing the things we find to talk about while cooking and drinking iced tea. Plus it always smells so lovely and it just feels good to be with family preparing a meal together.

So us girls chop and chop.

And here is the master chef himself, drinking iced tea and waiting. See, he monitors the roux and then after the women have spent hours preparing all the other ingredients, he throws it all in a pot and takes the credit. Not that I'm complaining.

and so we chop

and chop. We didn't have any shrimp or crawfish for this pot of Etoufee, so we settled for chicken and sausage.

and finally start the process of combining all these magical ingredients. This is bell pepper, onion and celery AKA holy trinity. I can't reveal all the spices or I'd have to kill you.

I'll pause while you wipe the drool off your chin. I so wish you could smell this stuff, or better yet, taste it.

Another staple for Etoufee nights, red wine.

Pretty soon the whole family starts showing up for the feast. This is one of my favorite parts. Oh and if you're wondering why Kyle is on crutches... he thought he was superman and was bringing in Granna's tropical plants for the winter and LIFTED them instead of scooting or rolling them and really hurt his back. He is better now.

This is how we serve people on the farm... buffet style. Fix your plate and go sit down.

It is at this point when Eddie puts on his most pleading pitiful face. With this many people around, he's sure to get a few morsels of that glorious food. OH PLEASE...could YOU resist??

Everybody's bowls get filled, and now my mouth is watering again.

I wish I could rewind the clock and eat this again.

I love my family and I love when we all get to be together.

Side note: This is my Mamaw's head. This is what Mamaw's head looks like on Saturday night. For as long as I can remember, she has gone through this little ritual of rolling her hair in those weird bristly rollers on Saturday nights. She is getting older now and suffering from dementia but those rollers still go in her hair and, one things for sure, the party is never boring when Mamaw is there.

Hot Chocolate and Magic

Taylor was about 7 when she inscribed this recipe per her Granna's instructions. At the time, I remember looking it over and thinking..."this kid needs some spelling lessons". But now that she is 17, it is precious and sweet and actually pretty good for a 7-year-old! Feel free to use the recipe yourself, it is scrumptious.

Once, while Granna was serving hot chocolate to Taylor and Kyle, she was adding marshmallows on top. Of course she was having to count to make sure each had the same amount. Kyle mentioned that his marshmallows were "little" and after a few minutes of stirring their hot brew with their spoons, Taylor looked up from her cup and said "my marshmallows are so tiny, I can't even see them!"

We've had a few little cool spells over the past month, so Taylor's recipe found it's way out of the recipe box and onto the range-hood where it has been pinned with a magnet. She made her first batch of Granna's hot-chocolate a couple of Sunday's ago while I was napping and I awoke to the sweet smell of chocolate. While I was making me some lunch this afternoon I just happened to glance at the recipe and pause briefly to think of my Taylor. I was remembering her when she was so little that we couldn't even find clothes to fit her, and when she was that dainty, prissy toddler with a wisp of golden hair...always so optimistic and forevermore darling.

She also happens to be a lot like her Dad (bless her heart) and tends to do things quite methodically. Once she figures out what she likes, she doesn't need to change it, thank you very much. When Taylor makes hot chocolate, she drinks it out of her "hot-chocolate-cup"

It doesn't matter if it's Christmas or not either. This is the cup that Taylor drinks hot chocolate out of. Amen. She acquired this little trinket with (who else) Granna! They were shopping around at the craft booths at Hoo-Rah days when she was just a little bitty thing when Taylor spotted this cup and had to have it. The lady working at the booth knew mom and they visited for a while and Taylor walked away with what would forever be something special.

There is another cup that resides in my cabinet which holds great importance. It's appears to be just a little jelly jar but you don't know the secret. See when Taylor was about 3-years-old, she got sick like all kids do, nothing major just a little runny nose and a cough. We paid Aunt Susie a visit, like we used to do quite frequently when we lived near her, and Susie gave her this cup. She told her it was magical and would make her well.

See the stars on the top? They are magic stars! When you drink from this cup it will always make you feel better.

Perhaps it was just a coincidence that Taylor started feeling better that day, or maybe it was the power of suggestion...I'm not sure, but we are holding on to the cup just in case. And, whenever Taylor feels bad or has to down some nasty medicine, this cup is always handy to add the element of magic to her remedy.