Visitors

We have one single extra bed in our little house. My son called last night and said "Hi! Can we come up for the weekend?" We said. "Are you kidding? Of course. Drive carefully and we'll see you in a couple of hours.."
Then I looked around at the sleeping arrangements. When they got here, this is how it went...
The Bean , his parents and Little Bean arrived late last evening. My daughter-in-law got the twin bed and Little Bean went on the floor next to his Mommy. The Bean started out in our bed and ended up on the sofa in the living room. My son slept on an Aero Bed on the living room floor. Noni and Papa got to sleep in their own bed with the door shut. Cutter's crate went into our room and Carl slept in his crate, behind the sofa. IT ALL WORKED OUT JUST GREAT! Everyone slept through the night.
In the morning we piled all the bedding , toys, stuffed animals, shoes, socks and books on the single bed to avoid the Corgi patrol that was looking for things to chew on.
In the morning The Bean went out to investigate the farm...

He had a conversation with the goats, took his Dad to the vegetable garden, checked out the new chickens and looked for eggs. Then he came in and showed me a new game that he plays on his dads IPhone. Carl didn't seem too interested and Cutter just wanted to play.

The Bean brought his silly brother with him. Little Bean was in rare form. He inspected the garden, smelled the flowers and when he saw the tomato plant in the planter, he proceeded to explain to me in his 3 yr' old, animated, diction that his 'mato plants were bigger and had "liddol" tiny green 'matos on them. "Where are your 'matos Noni?" I explained that it was colder up here in the foothills and we planted later, etc, etc ,etc... but he was already off to look at something else. Back inside the house he found his "railroad man" hat and started to turn it around backwards. I said "Hey dude, where's the train?" and I started laughing....then he started laughing and being silly... and I got the best photos of the day.
We are having such a good time. These boys are so full of energy it's mind boggling. They are all over the place and into everything. They want to do this and try that. I have to sit on their enthusiasm once in a while. It's like having a couple of small tornadoes inside the house. Carl and Cutter love it. They are running around with the boys, sitting with them and watching them all the time. I thought that Corgis were not suppose to be good with children but these two are having a great time. They love having short little people to run around with.

The weekend is all about the Bambinos. Got to go.....

"The Other Woman"

I think my husband is in love with another woman. Even though she is older than me I'm beginning to worry.
He took me to meet her yesterday. I've known about her for weeks, but I finally got to see her in person and I have to say....I think I'm in trouble.
SHE is a 1938 Chevrolet Master Deluxe and I think she is in better shape than I am. Other than some rusty places (I have several myself) and a few minor age related injuries she's in very good condition.
I was so against this whole relationship. I was not being very accepting of this usurper, this lovely blond vision of long ago . But... she's beautiful and I was kind of taken by her myself.

We went across the highway and had breakfast for lunch at Frank's Cafe. I could feel the thoughts of her floating across the road. The Prospector talked about her with a lilt in his voice... how beautiful she would look after he spent some money on her. But I'm seeing thousands and thousands of dollars floating through the sky like the big vultures that look for road kill along our roads and I start thinking of all the things we need to do around the farm. More gravel for the road, the house painting before Fall, new rug for the living room..., the potting shed I've always wanted.... GULP!

All is lost if someone else doesn't come along and take this woman before my husband does. The blatant disregard for our relationship is evident when he lies down and checks her brakes and shocks. Oh lord! What I'm I going to do?
I may have to get down and dirty. I may have to pull her spark plugs.

Try Adding Some Orange Peel (grated).

I think I have told you before that my mother added grated orange peel to everything. If you enlarge this first photo you will see that I have provided proof, in her own handwriting, that she loved to add orange zest to just about every recipe.
So, I have this one orange sitting on my counter. It's the last orange, of a bag of oranges, that I brought back from my sister's house. She has a very productive Orange tree that I lust for. This is a very important orange because I won't be going down to her home for a while and I want to do something special with it. It's juicy, sweet and the rind smells heavenly. I do not want to waste any of it.
I have finally decided to make Mom's Orange Buttermilk Sherbet. I was into making ice cream anyway this week, so I thought that this recipe would be a good one and I could fully utilize this beautiful and last remaining orange.

ORANGE BUTTERMILK SHERBET
Combine in a bowl: ( or a sauce pan if you're heating it. )
1 1/2 tsp. grated orange peel
1 1/2 C. sugar
1/4 tsp. salt
Stir well....
Then add the juice of one lg. orange (no need to strain the juice.) and 2 tsp. of lemon juice.
I like to heat this whole mixture in a small sauce pan until the sugar is totally dissolved (maybe 1 or 2 mins.). Do not let it boil. Then let it cool a bit. (You don't have to heat the mixture but I think it makes the sugar blend better.)
Gradually add: 2 C. Buttermilk and 2 C. Low fat milk. ( I used 2 C. of store bought GOAT milk in place of the low fat milk...of course. I happened to have some handy and wanted to see what it would taste like.)

Then stir well and pour into a flat pan, cover and put it in the freezer.

Periodically lift with a fork and stir. I use a potato masher to beat the mixture and mix it around well. Do this every 1/2 hour or so until the sherbet is frozen. Be relentless. You can't hurt it. When completely frozen, sort of fluffy, and it looks like something you could eat... beat again and spoon into a bowl or ice cream container (like the old Tupperware ice cream holder that keeps ice cream really fresh) or anything with a lid. Don't pack it down too much.
It doesn't take long. I started around lunchtime and we ate it after dinner with a slice of Nut torte. Oh my, it was good.

This is Orange Buttermilk Sherbet made with goat milk and it's delicious. Great texture, wonderful flavor and it's beautiful with it's little flecks of orange rind smiling at you as you consume this delectable dessert. It's smooth, cold and delights the palate. ( How's that for a food review Chef E?) My mom would be proud.

Wordless Wednesday: My Sister's Dogs

Cutter Report and Goat Milk Ice Cream

Cutter baby is doing just fine. He took his first big walk with us down the hill and back (well, half way down...). His area of operation is healing well and he has an older and wiser look about him. We are still keeping him in the pen a lot because he and Carl want to play roughhouse too much and get really carried away with the wrestling and tackling. So "Cutterbutt"( I love making nicknames for him) is on light duty for a few more days. Just wanted all of you to know that the baby dude is OK.

Guess what I made this weekend? GOAT MILK ICE CREAM. It's so easy it's mind boggling. I haven't gone to the goat farm for fresh goat milk yet. I don't want to until I get the cheese making supplies I sent away for. So, I went to the store and bought a quart of pasteurized goat milk and proceeded to make honey vanilla ice cream that, I believe, rivals Haagen Dazs Honey-Vanilla Bee ice cream. I think that's the name of it. This Haagen Dazs ice cream is and will be my friend C's very favorite "store bought".... until she tries my version. Yes, C., it's every bit as good as Haagen Dazs and is , if I figured the finances of it right, half the cost.
All you do is mix a quart of goats milk( I used regular, not low fat.) and a cup of honey and 2 tablespoons of vanilla extract together.
I don't have an ice cream maker, but you could use one. I poured the mixture into a 9x12 cake pan and covered it with some press and seal wrap and popped it into the freezer.
Every hour or so I would pulled it out and break it up with a fork and a potato masher until it was mixed well and then I would return it to the freezer. .., and by dinnertime we had the best ice cream ever. I think you could use less honey and vanilla. The combination of this amount was very strong... but delicious. I think I would try smaller amounts next time. Try these amounts first and decide for yourselves.
The next day I added some fresh strawberries mashed up and mixed into the ice cream. OMG! It's so good.

This is a small helping of the Goat Milk ice cream for you. Help yourself. Enjoy! Bon Appetit!!

P.S. Goat milk has an aftertaste that I really notice when I drink the milk by itself. I don't really care for this thick, residual taste.. but this ice cream doesn't.

Loner Goat

Morning Hike to the Ridge

Our true home is in the present moment. To live in the present moment is a miracle. The miracle is not to walk on water.
The miracle is to walk on the green Earth in the present moment… - Thich Nhat Hanh

Wishful Thinking and a Few Highlights

There is an old expression that goes..."Hope springs eternal." Well, that's my mantra these days. When the gray hair arrives, even in places besides your head, and your skin starts to look like you remember your grandmas looking like. When your eyelids start sagging into you eyes and making you look like you partied too much the night before and you didn't. When , no matter what you do to "take 10 years off your over all appearance" nothing works... then it's time for desperate measures.
I don't have the money for face lifts and tummy tucks, but if I did I think I'm at that level of desperation that I might do it if I had a few thousand dollars of disposable income floating around. But I don't. So, what's left? .... La Petite Frost.
I don't think it's too much to ask that if you buy this product, the results should come somewhere close to the picture on the front of the box. I know I'm probably 40 years older than this model. I KNOW that I probably weight more. Ha! I haven't had my lips puffed up and my bangs aren't long and straight like hers, but..., gee wiz! I just want to maintain a little fantasy of my former self.
So I bought the box with the beautiful girl on it and yesterday morning while the Prospector was gone (I NEVER do this when he's around. It's just too invasive for an audience), I slipped on the plastic cap; pulled my hair through the holes in the cap with a miniature crochet hook, until my aching fingers where crying for me to stop; prepared the bleaching solution and spread it all over my head, being very careful not to drip any on my age spots. Then I waited 45 minutes. I wanted the maximum effect.
Well, I guess my hair looks lighter and more "summery". I'm thankful for small improvements at this stage of my life. I still think that L'Oreal should use OLDER models so we don't have so far to fall when we make comparisons. But, like the gold ring on the carousel. We always have to reach.... keep trying.
Then, to add insult to injury, I was in the bathroom slopping on the solution, when Carl walked in on me....

His ears went up and his eyes got bigger. You'd thing he had seen a monster (or a strange dog) inside the doorway. I said some reassuring words to him and he GROWLED at me. Then he ran into our bedroom and hid under the bed.
After I removed the cap and washed the "H75 Chardonnay" solution out of my hair Carl cautiously returned. Farmlady was in the bathroom again and the monster was gone. He wagged his tail and left. Dogs!

I like the highlights. I feel better.., lighter. Maybe with a new style of eyeglasses I could pass for , Oh, 57 maybe 56.., late 50's.., 60? Now I need a haircut because I got some of the "solution" on the hair that I forgot to tuck under the cap and it looks like I fell asleep in the sun with a swim cap on. I'm thinking I should use some of that nasty concoction on my age spots. Couldn't hurt!
Getting older is very high on the Suckometer. I try to not care. I keep telling myself that wisdom is better than beauty. But there she is..., that model on the box.... looking eternally beautiful.
There's no justice in this world...

Friday Shoot Out ; with a camera

I think I'm finally getting this BOKEH technique down.
Remember what Bokeh is?
In photography, bokeh is the blur, or the aesthetic quality of the blur, in out-of-focus areas of an image, or (derived from Japanese word "boke", meaning 'blur') - In photography, refers to the creative use of lens blur as a composition.
The photo above is a White Globe Lily.

This is a common Thistle, but I don't know what kind.

The Red Clover is everywhere right now. As I walked up to the top of the hill it's like a carpet beneath my feet.

I had no photos of a "Zoo" (the photo topic for this week), so this is my maverick Friday Shoot Out.
For "Zoo" photos go here.

Two Little Girls with Blond Hair

The Big Ouch

Cutter took a trip to the Vets yesterday. We did the dirty deed and had him neutered. He's not happy about it.

Carl doesn't know what to think. He has forgotten about the same trip that he took over a year ago. He just doesn't understand why "Cut cut" is being contained in the pen and can't run outside with him.

"Cutter! Are you sticking your tongue out at me? You will be a better man for this. No more wanting something you can't have. In a few days you'll feel fine. Now, get that tongue back in your mouth. It'll be OK."

Goat Cheese and a Warning from Murphy... I think.

We made GOAT cheese Saturday. It was really fun and easy. I drove up from Sutter Creek a few miles, driving toward Volcano, where we lived for 3 years when we first moved to Amador Co. The lady who offered to show us how to make goat cheese is a member of our goat club and she, very generously, showed us the process.
She also fed us lunch with everything made from goat cheese and goat milk. We were served a mixed green salad with circles of breaded and baked goat cheese slices, a goat cheese quiche with mushrooms and onions, a "goat cheese" cheese cake and goat milk ice creme. OMG! It was all delicious. What a treat!! The quiche, with big pieces of goat cheese in it and the ice creme were my favorites. I learned that Nubian dairy goats produce the best milk for making cheese because they have the highest fat content. Not that my goat boys would care..., because they don't do milk, but Brownie needs to know that female goats have great value in the goat world and actually produce something for their owners. He thinks he's a "big cheese" just because he eats grass. I think we need a couple of milk goats around here to show him otherwise.

Last night I took a walk and when I came back I went over to the goat house to say hello and tell the boys about my Saturday cheese making experience. Murphy seems to be the only one who was interested. The others were inside their shelter.
Murphy, as usual, seemed to want to tell me something but the words were strange and I really didn't understand what he was telling me.

"What's the matter Murph'?" I heard him say it again..., one of those Welsh sounds came out of his mouth. The language, in my opinion, that this goat channels is from some other place and time.
I never did understand what it was that he was trying to tell me, but last night we heard an animal somewhere out there screaming as if it was being attacked.., and then silence.
This morning the gate had been broken loose again and 3 of the goat boys were outside in the run. Murphy was still in the goat house doorway looking at us with those strange eyes.
"What's going on Murph'?" I asked.
This time he didn't say a word. He just looked at me and then out at the other goats.
Something is not right. Something is spooking the goats. I sense that it might be the mountain lions that our neighbor filmed a few weeks back. Maybe I'm wrong. It could be a loose dog , a coyote, a lynx or fox too. The grass around the chicken coop had been sat on, but nothing has tried to get into the enclosure. Annibel is locked in the garage at night, so it's not her.
We are on guard around here. The Prospector is fixing the fence, but I think we should close the goats in completely. A Mountain Lion does not respect a fenced area if it's hungry. I don't argue with the instincts of a wild animal if they need food.
Murphy knows and he's trying to tell us. But, with all the stories I tell about these goats, I don't really understand what he's saying so we need to be vigilant. We may have to stand guard for a few nights to see what's going on.
Murphy knows. All the animals do.

Missing pictures for the post below.

Please leave comments on the post below these photos. Thanks

Slugs Under the Stepping Stones of Memory

The summer before I went into the 6th grade, in Pleasant Hill, CA., the school district had so many new families moving into the area that they decided to build a new elementary school. They tore out an old walnut orchard and transformed the empty acres into a new school.... and it was right down at the end of the street from where I lived. They called it Strandwood. The year was 1956.
This last weekend I walked my grandchildren back down to this school and the memories came flooding back. The above collage has three photos with the word "here" on each one. Each word represents a different memory.
The top photo is the front of the school. It's much prettier than it was that first year. We had no trees, hedges or gardens then. But it was a brand new school and we were the FIRST GRADUATING CLASS. All of the 6th graders were big important students. We were the oldest and the "big deals" for the year. We only stayed for one year and them moved on to Pleasant Hill Junior High School a few miles away.... but for one shinning school year we were the "alpha" kids.
Where you see the word "here" in the top photo is the spot where a couple of friends and I ( the summer before the school opened ) climbed onto the roof and down through a skylight into the school office. We thought we were really cool until we looked around and saw the new Principal standing in the doorway of his office. He was so mad at us. He gave us a long speech about breaking and entering, told us that we would probably have to go to the police department and took our names and phone numbers. I remember trying not to cry in front of my friends.
Now, mind you, I was a "good" girl and this wasn't something that I had ever done before. I was so scared that I could hardly breath. He told us that he wouldn't call the police but that we were to go home and he would be calling each of our parents that afternoon. He must have known how scared we were because he actually never called any of our parents. I sweat bullets for a week waiting for that phone call. It was all the punishment I needed. Never again, no matter who I was trying to impress, did I do anything like that and years later( I mean many YEARS later.. probably like 3 years ago) I told my Mom what had happen. She laughed and said that, knowing me, waiting for the principal to call was probably punishment enough. As I have said before, I have had this "closet Catholic" guilt thing going on inside of me my whole entire life. The day school started I was hoping that I wouldn't run into the Principal in the hallway. I didn't want him to be reminded to call our parents. I still think he got too busy or lost the list with the phone numbers. I still think about it.
The second "here" on the right is a photo of the main hallway and in the distance, the cafeteria. I got to serve lunch there and polished my domestic skills cleaning the tables afterwords. They gave me a free lunch for this effort and sometimes an extra ice cream or cookie.
I was also the third ghost in Dickens, A Christmas Carol. that year. I wore a huge black cape with a hood and showed Scrooge the future, while pointed with my finger. No words. It was an easy part and my first stage appearance. I was hooked for life. I went on to a short illustrious career in high school as an ACTRESS.
The third "here" is the best one. This is where, without flowers, trees or air conditioning units, I received my first kiss from a boy. Yes, it was exciting and wonderful. I'm sure we were in love. I just don't remember his name or what he looked like...., but I remember where it happen. "HERE" marks the spot.
So now, some 54 years later, I'm here with my grandchildren....



watching them play on the "new" playground. Gone is the wood sided, bark filled area with metal equipment that tested your ability to climb the highest, balance the best and swing the longest. Oh! I guess these new and softer playgrounds do the same thing. They are definitely more colorful. The equipment is different but the children are similar, each with his own skills and abilities. Each challenging themselves to be the best. I love the shadows on the green (and padded, like the local gym) fake grass. That could be me below the Bean. The ghost of years past. The outline of a child is always similar, in a way.The memory dims but the childhood continues. My memories will fade. His will develop, in the same place, only differently.
Little Bean is just starting to build his story. Hopefully my photos will remind him of this sunny day, walking with his Noni, to the school playground where she tells them the stories of long ago..., of walnut orchards and mustard grass in the meadow.., of an old oak tree on the hill behind the school and running up that hill so fast that she thought her lungs would burst. Too many memories to count. So many memories...

And then they discovered the slugs under the stepping stones. They met another little boy and it became a "boys will be boys" quest to find the most slugs.
We found a bottle with an orange cap. We, carefully, brought home 15 or 16 slugs and 2 "rolly pollies". The Bean carried his in his shirt. Yep! It was a record day.


My photos did not show up with this post. I was only able to retrieve the first one so I will do a separate post with the two photos that are missing. I'm beginning to think that that blogging/ computer "fates" have an issue with me lately.

Not Being Connected is a B!~@#

I came home from my extended weekend on Tuesday afternoon. Yes, I know this is FRIDAY!
Wednesday morning I woke up in my own wonderful bed with sunshine streaming into the room and the smell of coffee wafting from the kitchen. Carl and Cutter greeted me like a long lost litter mate. I fixed myself a latte in the new cup that my sweet sister gave to me for Mother's Day, filled with Ghirardelli dark chocolate and caramel squares.

I thought about all the wonderful things I did all weekend and reveled in the happiness of having two sons and a family who loves me and still wants to celebrate my motherliness. We had a combined Mother's Day/Son's birthdays dinner at a very beautiful restaurant in Walnut Creek Friday night and on Saturday afternoon I took care of my Bambinos so my son and DIL could go to a movie and dinner. Sunday Sis and I went to lunch and got spa pedicures. YEA! It was decadent. It was a very spectacular weekend.
I stayed at my Sister's house and enjoyed her hospitality and her dogs ( makes me miss mine a little less.) and ate oranges from their Orange tree until I thought I saw a tinge of orange in my hair one morning and decided to slow up a bit.
Wednesday morning I made some picture collages to use in a new post and before I started the post I decided to clear some emails and catch up on some favorite blogs. Then it happen...
I got a case of SLUGS:(Slow Link to Unadulterated Genuine Stupidity.)


Not only did I get SLUGS..., but it ended with a VIRUS that disconnected me from the Internet and my sanity for two days.
I believe that I got this VIRUS from blindly going to a craft site that was on a list of sites recommended by someone listed in a Google search. That's the "stupidity" part. The bottom line is that I lost my connection to the Internet for TWO WHOLE DAYS, and learned some things about myself.
1. I'm addicted to my Computer.
2. I'm not a very nice person when I can't use the computer.
3. I love blogging and writing and sharing my world with my blogging community.
4. I can't figure out how to troubleshoot a computer problem, but...
5. I get amazing amounts of work done, around the house, when I don't have a connected computer.
6. In two days I have cleaned this house like it hasn't been cleaned in two years.
7. The garden is complete with bedding flowers, herbs and NO WEEDS.
8. In the last two days The Prospector and I are carrying on conversations..., with complete sentences.
9. I have lost my perspective with this blogging obsession.
10. I spend way too much time on this endeavor but...
11. I love blogging! So...
12. I have a dilemma.

A very knowledgeable, young man finally came out to the house this afternoon and ,for not too much money, reconnected us to the Internet. We had an Anti-virus program installed and he gave me some helpful advice on surfing the Internet and how to avoid sites that lay in wait for unsuspecting dolts like me who believe that everyone out there has a good heart and kind intentions.
I'm back on line and have learned a valuable lesson. Now, I need to re-assess my computer obsession. Let me know if this has been a problem for any of you. I really think that there needs to be a balance in life, but  I also believe that you need to have a "passion" too. Is the computer and all that it encompasses interfering with the rest of your life? If not..., when was the last time you cleaned out the refrigerator?.., the closet?..., the chicken coop? Are "projects" hitting you in the back of your head to get your attention? Is an obsession OK if it's productive or makes money? Is it OK if you derive great satisfaction from it? I really want some feedback. I've had an epiphany. I need help.
By the way, there's a story behind that last photo of my grandson holding the cap filled with slugs. A post will follow, although I might put a day in between this one and the next. I have to attend a goat cheese workshop tomorrow. The slug story may have to wait until Sunday or Monday. I have a lot of other things to do.
 See... I'm learning.