This is why I don't kiss my dogs on the lips

I had a boss at the P.O. who brought his dog, a Spuds McKenzie look-a-like, in one day while out walking him. He reached down, grabbed his nose, pulled it up and kissed him on the mouth! That is just plain WRONG!! Didn't he ever see his dog doing his personal grooming? It wasn't with a wash cloth and soap and water. (If I'd been his wife and seen that, those lips would never have touched mine.)

On the farm, the dogs lips touch a whole lot more disgusting things such as this muskrat that Murphy so proudly showed off. She did not want to give it up, it was the biggest rat she every caught!

Mollie with her prize rabbit.

Mollie investigating a dead raccoon that we found in the lean to when we pulled the bales of hay out to make room for new calves. 

And Mollie, once again, after a successful rat hunt.

The dead animals don't even begin to cover it, they like to sample the horse droppings. Those of you with both house dogs and cats know that litter boxes are not off limits. There is something about those little tootsie rolls that is irresistible to dogs. 

It reminds me of Katie, when she was just a toddler and bounced out of bed every morning to go with her dad to feed their pet steer. Katie called him 'Foo Moo', she loved Foo Moo. One morning, back at the house, Katie crawled back into bed with her mom, suddenly Dianne heard her say, "Can't kiss Foo Moo, Daddy says Foo Moo has dirty wips!"

Remember that if you are ever tempted to kiss your pet on the 'wips' - they are dirty!

Making jam, a first!

We get several farm papers each week and most have a cooking section that usually consists of a young or not so young woman telling how they grew up learning how to cook by the side of their mother/grandmother. By the age of 8 or 10 they could put an entire meal for a threshing/baling crew on the table. Besides cooking 3 healthy meals each day for a family of 5/6/7/choose a number, they grow a huge garden, canning and freezing the produce for the a-fore mentioned healthy home cooked meals. That's all on top of holding down a full time job and helping hubby on the farm.

I read that and think - "PFFFTTTTT!!!!"

I grew up a tomboy, spending my time outside and feeling very put upon having to do dishes each night with my sister. Our Mom was one of those women who had a huge garden and canned all the produce to feed her hungry family over the winter. This was done in a small kitchen with no air conditioning, just a fan to move the hot, muggy air around. From there all the jars went into an underground cellar that could only be reached by trudging through snow drifts.

It was a lot of work but did I appreciate it at the time? N-O-O-O-O! It was as though a magic fairy appeared each evening and spread the table with good food. I continued my tomboy ways into adulthood and only cooked because I didn't have an Applebees attached to my house. Canning? Never! As my friend, Laura, pointed out, there are people who make a living canning, who am I to deprive them of a job?"

But then a few things happened, sister, Sara, and her hubby, Max, bought out the end of season bushes and perennials from Lowe's in Sioux City. In that largess were red currant bushes and she asked if I would like some. They are great bushes for birds so I figured my chickens would also like them and planted six, three by the chicken coop and three by the greenhouse. 

The bushes grew and produced tiny red berries that the chickens loved and all was well with the world. Until - friend, Lisa, found out I was letting the chickens have all the little berries and told me currant jam is wonderful. She shamed me into picking all those tiny little berries and what a pain in the butt that was! But I picked, washed, froze and bagged red currants

Do these look like fun to pick? N-O-O-O-O!

I encouraged the chickens to help me out, they think they are delicious.

Lisa's mother, Dorothy, is a master canner, I had bags of berries that I had no idea what to do with so I called Dorothy and offered them to her to turn into yummy jam. Instead, she told me to bring them to her house and she would help me turn them into yummy jam. That was an offer I couldn't pass up so we finally found a date that worked for both of us.

Dorothy studies the recipe that Lisa sent her....

.....and studies some more.

The currants go in the pot first to cook till soft.

Dorothy couldn't find her sieve so she wrapped the berries in cheesecloth and squeezed the juice out of them. (I took the mash back home to the chickens, I thought they would love it, they didn't.)

The juice was returned to the pot along with red raspberries, some pectin and sugar and thoroughly stirred. 

(Note to self - when using frozen red raspberries from Rosanne's berry patch, pick them over carefully to rid them of the little black picnic bugs.)

YUM, YUM!!!

As the jam bubbles and cooks down, it's time for a break, coffee and a brownie before slaving over the hot stove again.

Being the master canner that she is, Dorothy is watching for all the drips to coalesce into a single slow drip.  

Into the hot jars, topped with hot lids and into the boiling canner to seal.

Out of the boiling canner and onto a towel to wait for the 'ping' that says the jar is sealed.

The final product, I repeat, YUM, YUM!!

The loot - YUM, YUM!

We divvied up the spoils and then Dorothy presented me with a fresh loaf of homemade bread to test out the product. 

YUM, YUM!!!!!

Boys will be boys......

....and Boy are they BOYS!

Last fall, the little red frizzle hatched out two boys, I already have two roosters and I wondered how this would work. I knew I could re-home one right down the road at the neighbors, two years ago I gave Jillian two little hens and a rooster but that winter the rooster died. I promised her another one next time a rooster hatched.

It wasn't easy to sex them, in fact, they were nearly grown and I finally heard the boys crowing, before I was certain.

They were a close family, I waited for their mother to do the right thing and kick them out on their own, but it didn't happen. All four stuffed themselves into a nest box at night which I found pretty kinky.

Then one morning I opened the chicken coop and out came the little black cochin hen....

.....with one rooster.....

....two roosters hot on her heels!

Across the yard in hot pursuit, they caught up with her in the drive way and did their best to sweet talk her into a little romance.

She wasn't in any mood and stuck close to the big hens, they don't take any crap off those two little pipsqueaks. 

The boys had no choice but to hang together, out of reach of tough beaks and claws.

I was outside that evening and watched the little hen try to make it safely into the chicken coop but it was not to be. First one rooster tried for her, I knocked him off and she ran for the coop, as fast as her little feathered feet could go. She nearly made it when the other rooster spied her and jumped on. He didn't even see me coming, I grabbed him, he let out a shriek and kept shrieking as though I was killing him. I let the little hen get inside, on a roost, before I released him, then went in the house to call Jillian to tell her I was bringing her a rooster. 

The next morning I took the chicken catcher into the coop but the boys are fast and flighty. I accidentally caught the frizzle around neck, if he thought he was dying the night before, he really thought he was going to be chicken dinner that day. I was finally able to grab him around the body and carry him to the car. On the way to Jillian's, the rooster bit down on my glove and hung on, showing me he wasn't afraid of me.

I took him out to their coop and opened the door, she has two big Rhode Island Red hens and two Serama girls. I tossed Pee Wee inside, he lit and immediately did the Dance of Seduction. The RIR was not impressed and ran his cheeky butt outside into the pen. He didn't let that stop him, there was another hen out in the pen but she didn't give him the time of day either.

I called Jillian that night to see how things were working out, she said the little hens like him, the big hens, not so much! I told her if the big hens killed him, there is still another one here.

Getting rid of one of the boys did what I hoped, it cooled the competition and the little cochin hen can once again move around the farm in relative peace. Maybe he is afraid he also will disappear, never to be seen again!

Things we learned while on vacation

1. We packed too many clothes - DUH!

2. Use bags that can be carried on to avoid the BAGGAGE FEES!! American Airlines got us for an addition $100!! It shouldn't be allowed!! Now we know why people were bringing rather large carry on's because then the airline would check them FREE from the boarding desk. I repeat - It shouldn't be allowed!! But now we know what to do the next time!

3. We can't choose our seat mate, other than each other. It wasn't a problem traveling between Omaha and Charleston because it was a two seater jet. Going to Jamaica from Charleston, each time a rather portly person walked down the aisle, checking seats, I held my breath. I could see myself squished by some overflowing body next to mine, Bruce had the window seat. But I lucked out, a little girl was the lucky winner of seat C and she didn't even use up her allotted space. She also seemed to be a seasoned flyer, she never grabbed my hand or knee when something unexpected happened, Bruce was not so lucky.

4. We can't choose our seat mate - 2 - On the way back I was not so lucky, no, it wasn't a seat overflow, it was the SNIFFER!! You know the one, they never carry a hankie, instead every few minutes he did a marathon sniffing to suck the offending mucus back into his head. For 3 hours!! Every so often he also investigated the contents of his nose and furtively wiped it on the seat. BUGGER  ALERT!! I wondered if there was a hazard sign I could slap on that seat when we departed to warn others of the condition. He was a nice enough guy but I had no desire to shake his hand when we parted company.

5. We can't choose our fellow travelers, on the way back to Omaha, our two seater jet did not allow for a seat mate but right behind me was the 'hyena', you know the one. The woman who finds everything hilarious and laughs loudly, she must have been a distant cousin to the hyena.

6. Our resort was an 'all inclusive' meaning the initial price covered all food and drink, except for the $100 bottle of champagne, if you were so inclined, we were not. So we ate and drank, copious amounts and by the last day neither of us were even hungry for breakfast. I felt as though I would never eat again - but by Saturday I had a change of heart.

7. Bruce was tickled when he learned the the greens fees at the golf course was included in our package. But then you have to rent your clubs - and rent your cart - and have a caddie - yada, yada, yada, $100 + later you have played a round of golf in Jamaica and no one even took a picture of it.

8. Don't spend all your time peering through the bottom of the glass bottomed boat or be prepared to suffer seasickness.

9. Be extra sure of the hardiness of your heart before going down the water slide. I was the first guinea pig to go, I have been on water slides but never one where I felt like I was breaking the sound barrier. I was too terrified to scream, instead I moaned and when Bruce heard it echoing back up the slide to him, he had serious qualms about going himself. When it spit him out into the pool, he understood perfectly.

10. It should be a no-brainer but use sunscreen early and often, early and OFTEN or suffer the consequences. Or do as Jean did, claimed the inside lounge under the lush tree that the sun could not penetrate.

11. We actually knew this but hadn't acted on it for 5 years, going where there is sun, sand and surf in the middle of a long midwest winter is good for the soul. We highly recommend it.

You gotta love those farm dogs

Farm Dogs, they will never win best of show at the Westminster dog show but they are invaluable. They are protection, company and entertaining among other things. Mollie and Murphy know when I strap the vests on, we are going on an outing in the gator, we drive down the road serenaded by a cacophony of barks from the bed, they just can't contain themselves.

It's another beautiful Saturday so we went to the pond to check for interlopers living under the bee hive, there were none, so we hiked on to the picnic area to see what was going on over there.

Even through the big ponds are still frozen, we have a few geese already.

They have to search for a place to swim, unless they want to go ice skating.

There are still snow piles but they are shrinking.

The dogs found some open water and went in for a drink, racing through the trails at full speed makes a dog mighty thirsty.

Murphy goes in for a dip and a shake.....

.....and continues on about her business, dripping water.

Being a farm dog ain't for sissies. 

There is evidence of a beaver working, if he is smart, he will move along before Bruce goes hunting.

Another frozen pond slowly thawing around the edges. We've been watching for any sign of dead fish and so far, so good. With the ponds full going into winter there is a good chance they all survived.

It's time to head back to the gator.....

.....and they are happy to have a ride home.

We stopped at the bridge to check on the progress of the beaver living there, he is hard at work, busy as a beaver, so to speak, cutting down trees there.

I set up the game camera to see if I can get a picture of him.

We went on to the farm to check for rats, Bruce found a hiding place behind a wood door of one of the bins. He was moving corn this week, opened the door some rats bailed out. He got one but the others escaped unscathed. This morning Ole was at the bin site so Bruce opened the door and four ran out, Ole grabbed one but it was too tough for him and got away.

I really didn't expect any to be back yet but I was wrong, I primed the dogs, "Rats, watch for rats!" and swung the door open. One rat was perched on an upper bin ring with the dogs racing in circles, "Rats, we want RATS!!" He didn't want to jump but had to so he launched himself as far from the bin as he could, landing in the grass, running hard. But he was no match for the dogs, Mollie made quick work of him. Murphy ran over, "Oh, can I smell your breath???" 

Farm Dogs, you gotta love them.

Sitting is SO HARD!!

When training a dog, the first thing experts say is to never pay attention to them until they sit quietly. With a whirling dervish such as Murphy, it's nearly impossible to find a time when she is sitting quietly.

I was getting mobbed whenever I went outside by two over exuberant collies, each vying for my undivided attention and it was getting old so I resorted to bribery. I used Milkbone dog biscuits and made both dogs sit before they could have the treat. I pushed it further by making them "Wait" with the biscuit in sight before getting the "Okay." 

I finally quit the treats, except for special times and just made them "sit" for me in the mornings to get their rewards, a good stroking. This morning I had Bruce try it and it was just so hard!

Mollie is very good, she loves Bruce and would do anything he asked, Murphy - not so much!

"Suck UP!"

"Maybe if I grab your glove you will forget all about that 'sit stuff!'"

Murphy then tries to insinuate herself between Bruce and Mollie, who continues to gaze adoringly into Bruce's eyes.

"I'm your Good Dog, aren't I?"

Murphy finally sits and gets her reward, Mollie starts to rise.....

.....and then she sits when she once again has Bruce's undivided attention.

"Yes, Mollie, you are my Good Dog."

Jealousy sets in and Murphy barks defiantly....

...."I don't need to be petted anyway!"

"So there!"

After Bruce left, I sat the girls down for a photo session, I had 1.7 seconds to catch them both facing me.

When I look into Mollie's eyes, I see her heart reflected back at me. 

When I look into Murphy's, I know there is a devil!

Jamaica sunshine

One week ago, Bruce and I left home at 1 am and drove to Omaha under a full moon to catch a flight to Jamaica, by way of Charlotte NC. Our spirits were high, we were meeting two of our favorite people there, Jean and John, for 6 fun filled days. By 3 pm, on the seemingly never ending bus ride to the resort, exhausted and starving, I would have given anything to be back home! But after a burger for Bruce and jerk chicken for me, fries and some booze, we revived and set out to find our com- padres.

The resort was beautiful, winding paths everywhere, several buildings, it's a wonder you can find anyone but there they were!! Hugs all around, exchanging travel war stories, who had the worst trip and a little more booze disguised in fruity drinks and it was all forgotten. 

And then we ate, hung out on the beach and ate some more, that was pretty much how the vacation was and we all loved it. Bruce, Jean and John did venture off the resort Tuesday morning for a golf game.

I felt a little crabby that day...

....so I laid on the beach and watched these young men net fish right next to the swimming area.

The seagulls were watching also....

"Diving, Diving!"

He came up empty but had a nice bath.

Some catamaraners were much more brave than I as they sailed out into the ocean depths. 

Back at the resort the waves crashed onto the rocks. I'm hoping the people on the catamaran use caution when coming back.

Where there is food, there are begging birds, this diamond tail blackbird is trying to guilt me into sharing my fries.

And this one was caught red handed, so to speak, filching Splenda packets from the tables in the main dining room.

Bruce is resting after his hard morning on the golf course....

.....and ready to party that night.....

....when the hard working people at the resort transformed the beach into an evening buffet, where we ate, and ate and ate some more.

But the highlight of the evening were the goat races, I was just hoping this goat jockey wasn't going to 'bounce' out of her dress top.

The guys were a little more competitive but the white goat won again.

These party animals were having a great night, perhaps a little alcohol was involved?

This day we were all slugs, we found the best place on the beach, under a big tree so most of us were completely shaded from the daytime sun. Those of us who weren't completely shaded, paid the price with a painful sunburn and we know who we are, don't we, John?

We were joined by this man and his guitar, John refrained from making a song request, "Can you play Far, Far Away?"

We were plied with drinks, Bruce and John were enjoying their Jamaican Smiles.....(no, John's straw is not up Bruce's nose!)

.....that were served with a genuine Jamaican smile.

This is a double handful of female sea urchins that washed into the swimming area, a young Jamaican water sports employee was kept busy snorkeling and scraping them off the ocean floor and returning them to the other side of the rocks. The females aren't so bad to step on, their spines are not so sticky but the black males are extremely painful.

We didn't ALWAYS frequent the grill with the burgers and jerk chicken, a couple of nights we dressed up and ate at the finer restaurants, this was Moonstone, for Italian. Jean and I both ordered the shrimp fettuccine and were highly satisfied but the guys ordered the grilled salmon and they were stiffed!! Three or four tiny bites, a small potato and a few springs of grilled veggies left them both craving more food and eyeing the neighboring table's mostly uneaten pepperoni pizza. They asked the waitress if they could get a pizza but it was too late so the other diner offered the rest of his. It took little encouraging and the pizza was gone. 

The funniest part of the evening was dessert, Bruce ordered cannelloni, Jean and I ordered tiramisu, I had never tasted it. Before it came, Jean and I were given another special dessert, two pieces of chocolate torte that I had admired from afar that was being served to a private party.

Before we finished this, the waitress showed up with three plates of a cone shaped dessert, filled with something and served on plates dressed up with chocolate drizzles. As she placed one in front of Bruce, she said, "This is your cannelloni," and she placed the other two in front of Jean and I and said, "This is your tiramisu!" 

She was young and seemed rather nervous so we saved our laughter until she was gone.

So I have still never tasted tiramisu.  

We decided to take an excursion out on the glass bottom boat, as I was peering through the ageing  bottom I wondered how often they silicon-ed the glass! We saw this monster resort, 7 floors, at least 16,000 rooms, not my kind of place.

Our tour guide told us this is the Jamaican Walmart.

There were a lot of things to do around the resort if you chose to, one morning they had 60's and 70's music trivia out on the beach, Bruce and John kicked butt!! Bruce walked away with the prize, a colorful wooden fish carved by one of the locals.

The last night we ate in the main dining room and after they had trivia in several different categories, thinly disguised as musical chairs. To answer the trivial question, you had to be seated in a chair by the stage. The first question was, "Who lives at 221 B Baker St?" Before I even knew what I was doing, I bolted out of my chair, around the table in front of me and slid into their chair. "Sherlock Holmes."

CORRECT! I was given a token.

I got the second question, I was up 2 tokens.

Then it got interesting, some very competitive men showed up and it was a horse race for the chair. I was not dressed appropriately, a skirt and sandals with slick soles on a tile floor spelled disaster. I bounced off a big guy and ended up crashing on my knees so decided to give up the battle while I could still walk.   

Our last morning was spent walking the resort and taking some last minute photos, this is one of the cabanas that we were too cheap to book, $50 a day on up depending on the amenities that came with it.

One last look at our beach, "Goodbye beach, I hope we meet again."

We were all flying back to Charlotte together, our bus arrived about 11 am for a 3:35 departure. We had a great bus driver, he told us so much about the island and the people, the hour long trip flew by and we were at the airport dis-embarking. Bruce and I were first in line to check our baggage and get our boarding passes inspected, then headed through to the security check point. Just as I was ready to load my belongings into one of the tubs, my heart stopped. "Bruce, I left my camera on the bus!" All I heard was, "Oh, Julie!" I grabbed my passport and boarding pass from him and ran to the nearest desk. It took about 45 minutes, several phone calls and some extremely caring and helpful employees and my camera was found and returned to the airport, I cried as I hugged the little girl who helped me. Bruce was still waiting at the security checkpoint, I was stuck behind some people but as soon as he looked up, I raised the camera in triumph and he smiled, it was such a relief.

We all bid each other goodbye, not knowing how the connection would be in Charlotte, we ended up saying goodbye twice more as we went through customs and then again at the baggage pickup. Bruce and I arrived in Omaha around 10 pm and home at 1 am.

I opened the garage door to greet Mollie and Murphy, Mollie cried and cried, she was so happy we were home, it makes me feel bad about leaving her. In the house, Zoe was tearing around, not stopping to say "Hi!" and Clyde was very vocal, telling us everything that went on while we were away. Both cats slept with us, making sure we didn't slip out in the wee hours of the morning again.

In the kitchen we were greeted with a soaked rug in the sink and towels covering the floor in front of it. What the Hey? We checked under the sink for a leak but it was dry, I opened the door to the dishwasher and there was water in the bottom. HUH?? There was no note so I added the soaked towels to the rug in the sink, put more down on the still wet floor and went to bed.

Jaylene called in the morning to shed some light on the mystery, she came in the house the day before and stepped on the very wet rug. She checked under the sink, it was dry and then Tim opened the dishwasher door and water poured out! What a revolting development! They didn't know what to think either so just mopped up the mess as best they could. I started the dishwasher and then shut it off, the standing water drained and no more has shown up, a conundrum indeed.

I hate it when they have trouble but it could always be worse, such as the time one of my old cats died on their watch and another when it was a calf in the pasture. So a little water is no big deal, we just need to find out what caused this little inconvenience and remember to shut the water off to it when we leave!

Bruce was up early to haul manure while the ground was still frozen, I not so early and puttered around, doing laundry and putting things away. It was a gorgeous day, 66 degrees this afternoon! In February! In Iowa! But wait, Tuesday is bringing more snow, but we shall live for today. And today Bruce, Mollie and Murphy and I drove the gator to the pond to check things out. The bees were out flying and sunbathing on the roof, they probably thought they were in Jamaica. The geese are back, the ponds are all full and no dead fish that we could see.

Life is very good indeed.