tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3622928728574491912024-03-12T23:30:41.551-07:00The Painted PostDairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-85394111376317527492013-03-09T21:38:00.001-08:002013-03-09T21:38:16.278-08:00Mid Century Modern Link<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-1088051789462147842012-08-19T22:05:00.004-07:002012-08-19T22:05:48.667-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Skunks and Dogs...Dogs and Skunks. NG in the DOT. Check it out and if you want more, subscribe to my new blog link. Spanks! </span><br />
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Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-6406871341763833862012-08-13T22:53:00.002-07:002012-08-13T22:53:16.002-07:00Sandy Beach, Grand Hotels, & The Pole Dancer<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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THIS BLOG HAS MOVED TO<br />
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PLEASE GO THERE AND SUBSCRIBE IF YOU WANT MORE. HERE'S A YOUTUBE VIDEO OF THE GRAND HOTEL, MACKINAC ISLAND, AND OUR AIRSTREAM RALLY. ENJOY! <br />
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Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-59468554502238292842012-07-21T07:55:00.000-07:002012-07-21T07:55:09.744-07:00NEW POST AT ON MY NEW WEBSITE ThePaintedPost.com<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">http://thepaintedpost.com/wordpress/brother-can-you-spare-a-dime/<br />
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ThePaintedPost.com</div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-91758365896129430382012-07-13T19:20:00.000-07:002012-07-13T19:20:34.287-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://thepaintedpost.com/wordpress/the-story-of-the-broken-ankle/" target="_blank"> </a><br />
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Click on the link above to read a true story. Enquiring minds want to know! </div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-1164828117376306852012-07-10T21:15:00.001-07:002012-07-10T21:15:55.243-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Visit my new site: Copy and Paste to read about Babe, the Blue Ox and The Weenie Wagon!<br />
http://thepaintedpost.com/babe-the-blue-ox-and-the-weenie-wagon/</div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-53067569448753216502012-07-09T10:51:00.000-07:002012-07-09T10:51:08.973-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hey boys and girls, the painted post has moved. <br />
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Please visit the following link and snearch around until you see the subscribe button. Subscribe to the "new and improved" Painted Post and a genie will grant you three wishes.<br />
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Kelly</div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-56748750713245634292012-01-18T00:44:00.000-08:002012-01-18T01:21:23.160-08:00Lose Yourself<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtNUmEWg3W63dv-Q7kQn89cPOANWl3pLftOE-K1OxJxCKyLLOYhC2AOAuR0utv0SrRgn1v4SE4e43YDTCx1OMnkTMbE0kRfUgh1pw5gttBESlWt2iK5bxUbt3qvAHzIO_Z5IUp0gyUKDE/s1600/airstream-dwr-design-within-reach-exterior.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtNUmEWg3W63dv-Q7kQn89cPOANWl3pLftOE-K1OxJxCKyLLOYhC2AOAuR0utv0SrRgn1v4SE4e43YDTCx1OMnkTMbE0kRfUgh1pw5gttBESlWt2iK5bxUbt3qvAHzIO_Z5IUp0gyUKDE/s320/airstream-dwr-design-within-reach-exterior.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMLX-3hAGavWQ8upPGJusxo3TizqQoFWqlQHqAI8SMMZR-q1wLih7pUzsKZ1svrP7KLxkK_s5U_Cho95vBgYMUjMO2tkfAKQP_iTFQT0PX1UUGZnQ90oR2LxAkp7XgpsyBY11Gr1za5v0/s1600/IMG_1769.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>We are in the middle of a big snow storm and my beloved little Hen House is tucked deep inside a winter barn covered up in snow. I'm in my room, filled with so many warm summer memories that keep playing over and over in my mind's projector. The "Hen House" holds the key to my life redefined. <br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'm proud of myself. There, I said it. </span></div><br />
I had a dream, I took the bull by the horns, and I did it. In the process, I've met other women like myself who are not afraid to hitch up, tow, and go. Let me tell you, when I am in my camper with my camera and my little dog, I am the happiest person on earth.<br />
<br />
<div style="color: #7f6000; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I have a beautiful family and a loving husband who support my craziness.</span></div><div style="color: #7f6000; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">That helps. I have a business that I can be away from</span></div><div style="color: #7f6000; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">for up to two weeks at a time. That helps. </span></div> <br />
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<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Last year I turned 50 years old and I'm finding that</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">life is just beginning for me; that this is perhaps</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">the best time of my life. I'm dangerous. </span></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFMAVBPL5w3dJAv4q1cTdkCpqnHu5ZUUv6Hy-zQsAOKrHPWoVPw0ODZ4f40dq0QHtgf2RP4ZFgyQIe_WKC828DqunNwT5GB519MbWUCpN4uw-fG0dZ_1DzBvMS0Rp7fUI3bvy0rhkmWEM/s1600/June+2011+362.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFMAVBPL5w3dJAv4q1cTdkCpqnHu5ZUUv6Hy-zQsAOKrHPWoVPw0ODZ4f40dq0QHtgf2RP4ZFgyQIe_WKC828DqunNwT5GB519MbWUCpN4uw-fG0dZ_1DzBvMS0Rp7fUI3bvy0rhkmWEM/s400/June+2011+362.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="center"><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hello Kitty. Do I need it?</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Me, 50? -- but wasn't it just yesterday America celebrated it's Bi-Centennial (1976)</span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Remember the Quarter?</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCW_9XpeH21F-lsxvKMPFaNlJxdxU0GZRrH05I-vg3YP8FS2poeF3bN-ai-gTgytpaH-mRPiMbkr8L0Rwibtkpzz7OpHnT1deupdL6EoB3P-_vRNTg13TgKe-xcGPJaVx9hGQyzM_Yhck/s1600/June+2011+2589.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCW_9XpeH21F-lsxvKMPFaNlJxdxU0GZRrH05I-vg3YP8FS2poeF3bN-ai-gTgytpaH-mRPiMbkr8L0Rwibtkpzz7OpHnT1deupdL6EoB3P-_vRNTg13TgKe-xcGPJaVx9hGQyzM_Yhck/s640/June+2011+2589.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Daddy really hates my outfits.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd7b-NdSgo3kadq54-sSUw7274sMqZZB34MzVlqtrKoAC3CO5wk0Oyl7egjMB__9ZnIZ5UwlohhvFX2zCHrjNceWzDSnDxPGWGAq5PAXVqagppTgB7lRjr0IxwrNsClilL6PfkAKdI5xk/s1600/June+2011+2802.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd7b-NdSgo3kadq54-sSUw7274sMqZZB34MzVlqtrKoAC3CO5wk0Oyl7egjMB__9ZnIZ5UwlohhvFX2zCHrjNceWzDSnDxPGWGAq5PAXVqagppTgB7lRjr0IxwrNsClilL6PfkAKdI5xk/s640/June+2011+2802.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Being present, to enjoy and photograph a day like this one makes me happy</span>.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibuTM3MIdBdpzlmrvOBvx98iG6MBJYHukej25rD0pJeHG1q5pU2GLHPP1-ZHjNFBCt7tGwhXuyWbAanHBZtZ0zbL0zyLAgkZlSN5bnQtERpX8ob-B-PJ8EdWpQKL1aR3oTOfh14XF1K9U/s1600/June+2011+2558.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibuTM3MIdBdpzlmrvOBvx98iG6MBJYHukej25rD0pJeHG1q5pU2GLHPP1-ZHjNFBCt7tGwhXuyWbAanHBZtZ0zbL0zyLAgkZlSN5bnQtERpX8ob-B-PJ8EdWpQKL1aR3oTOfh14XF1K9U/s640/June+2011+2558.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I drive, she runs, I take cell picture.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPgl_6gFiFtqsR_hBMxcCGlTDva74yyaVoN6BxJaa29VqeJcy0Pk26BpDkne6nDytg4MzP_QBgWmqhBZ5xy8WAHEN89Gw-INZuVUZKlkkt3xRfH4c6auur3YvALDM4TIyRRmkw2EVR_Dc/s1600/June+2011+7369.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPgl_6gFiFtqsR_hBMxcCGlTDva74yyaVoN6BxJaa29VqeJcy0Pk26BpDkne6nDytg4MzP_QBgWmqhBZ5xy8WAHEN89Gw-INZuVUZKlkkt3xRfH4c6auur3YvALDM4TIyRRmkw2EVR_Dc/s320/June+2011+7369.jpg" width="313" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;">At 20</span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> - </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Newlywed Photo, fishing on the Michigamme Reservoir in Crystal Falls, MI</span></td></tr>
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<tr style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Now, I'm my own captain and my own fish picture taker!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMxs6ZcdXKT9bEpR-X61Bk5IT8xY_V4z1ceJFzat5syVXBeNyAR_xuTf40_IqC7s-NIJ0QeNM0OYz8FD6IkpxInLPNQgbQv6G6XdiAHPZEqaDpPf9UshXmUl6OEC3IOMMqq9miNs2JYUc/s1600/June+2011+7087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMxs6ZcdXKT9bEpR-X61Bk5IT8xY_V4z1ceJFzat5syVXBeNyAR_xuTf40_IqC7s-NIJ0QeNM0OYz8FD6IkpxInLPNQgbQv6G6XdiAHPZEqaDpPf9UshXmUl6OEC3IOMMqq9miNs2JYUc/s640/June+2011+7087.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Dangerous because I'm free to examine what it is in life that I truly love to do, what makes me smile inside. I feel like a butterfly.</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'm giving myself permission to be a new me, not a wife, a mother, or an end product of other people's expectations. An original.</span></div><br />
I keep coming back to doing things that I loved doing as a child, to reliving those memories my way, now. So, off I go, the Hen House and me....fishing, camping and exploring with Remi, who rides shotgun. I physically feel strong enough to dare and I'm brave enough to not give a rip about convention. When I'm rolling down the road with the radio blasting some Miranda Lambert, seeing the dog's ears are flapping in the breeze, and sipping on a cold Diet Coke from the console, I'm dangerous.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ-WOulnfqwlZvNMP4LP6CPPn0WPgcGAv2zdSO3Q-wrtOjC69DT0YIeXriP-EZbG7umgmb_39cxOjqJIZ6R2A3PvB7YtqujsxnP-8NAroIOzF9A4Wips_6YqgpG8mAMhgccRULA6-kMGo/s1600/June+2011+2579.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbcdjpNQy5V3pIIB8vMLMKd5XJ882izh_Z4pT5qjCJtjG6rsYX-WlYmYz3q-xBrZZ6VRlXgiPtpqXku-Yp_DDGALZ-ZlPw_jG3FAihGXkMaYPXTYn0FalLG_CVKDUuAs4tbffn2B13pFo/s1600/June+2011+5204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbcdjpNQy5V3pIIB8vMLMKd5XJ882izh_Z4pT5qjCJtjG6rsYX-WlYmYz3q-xBrZZ6VRlXgiPtpqXku-Yp_DDGALZ-ZlPw_jG3FAihGXkMaYPXTYn0FalLG_CVKDUuAs4tbffn2B13pFo/s640/June+2011+5204.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">My camera, my friend.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0GtFUIsDcf6rKvm2y4X_V3Gp-fxaIOw0RjQKR9zcgDTHn1NDfhKvC4IEIVLrDPd69YhuE1lgi35bjzL6n2_qLdUuemYh8pcQ942tHJGHP5t810qXrE8OPW0bY4oLJjBVM7gbUROLTSFE/s1600/June+2011+8451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0GtFUIsDcf6rKvm2y4X_V3Gp-fxaIOw0RjQKR9zcgDTHn1NDfhKvC4IEIVLrDPd69YhuE1lgi35bjzL6n2_qLdUuemYh8pcQ942tHJGHP5t810qXrE8OPW0bY4oLJjBVM7gbUROLTSFE/s640/June+2011+8451.JPG" width="480" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Thistle. A weed?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>I've been a good girl. I've done my time. I don't regret any of it. I raised my family which includes folding a stack of clothes to rival the height of the Sears Tower...I still call it that: the Sears Tower. I sped through town in the mini van that overflowed with sports gear, forgotten food, and strange smells. I volunteered at school, attended every parent-teacher event and ball game x three. I've mastered the art of boo-boo kissing, story telling, and hamburger camouflage. I miss it all. I can't have it back.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Fast forward to ebay.com</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">on another stormy winter's night</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">November, 2010, at 1 a.m. </span></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBSyDaGzm0UFUcAHm7Im6D8_YP9H5ao5jjIeVvDYogf_rADwdxonIsysLisZpfNFi4_B4WpXQkqXzKA9Pw4i8lhxUhglSj1OB7BenNqBKWLQ-6-Kw9Ddq5jR1yWT-BsZmctFY0tlVSE_o/s1600/6-4-dwrairlogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBSyDaGzm0UFUcAHm7Im6D8_YP9H5ao5jjIeVvDYogf_rADwdxonIsysLisZpfNFi4_B4WpXQkqXzKA9Pw4i8lhxUhglSj1OB7BenNqBKWLQ-6-Kw9Ddq5jR1yWT-BsZmctFY0tlVSE_o/s200/6-4-dwrairlogo.jpg" width="160" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">AIRSTREAM TRAILER 2008 DESIGN WITHIN REACH, Low Miles. </span>Did it matter that this trailer was situated in New York City, 700 miles from my home? Nooooooo. Did it matter that my husband had no idea what I was cooking up? Noooooooo. I was on a mission. The lyrics to Eminem's Lose Yourself kept rolling in my head. "Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity</div>To seize everything you ever wanted in one moment<br />
Would you capture it or just let it slip?<br />
Yo"<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4glqTgF_Av-vDaMho97fbkjoIxN-5hAGn1-Ydg15wWoFeiNhm_tM0EHbjO_CM0YT2_h7_YjT_rTcxPZkhrWnJAaYHosWjB0NGP2Z4Umr9eniHZWd44SJxrxSWJIajg1WtowO50Kgmzyw/s1600/dwr_airstream_nelson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4glqTgF_Av-vDaMho97fbkjoIxN-5hAGn1-Ydg15wWoFeiNhm_tM0EHbjO_CM0YT2_h7_YjT_rTcxPZkhrWnJAaYHosWjB0NGP2Z4Umr9eniHZWd44SJxrxSWJIajg1WtowO50Kgmzyw/s1600/dwr_airstream_nelson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4glqTgF_Av-vDaMho97fbkjoIxN-5hAGn1-Ydg15wWoFeiNhm_tM0EHbjO_CM0YT2_h7_YjT_rTcxPZkhrWnJAaYHosWjB0NGP2Z4Umr9eniHZWd44SJxrxSWJIajg1WtowO50Kgmzyw/s320/dwr_airstream_nelson.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Since that fateful night my life has changed. I have my husband to thank for it. The man puts up with a lot (of shenannigans).<br />
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I've become my own entertainment system. Just the other day I saw an ad for the International Colt Starting championships in Tennessee. Why not? I love cowboys and horses. Then I read about a Baron Von Steuben's burial site in New York. I love this man. Why not? Now I've just got to remember to reload my Open Road Tolling thingie.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinyk5OFsNZ999RQw36-Sc7oM911furIun1tP9ksXlJKExxbI3cVRKw6mhHVNRj9W4kxZrBkGujpwzhsmXfMp6Y0MDN0VOY3CGmkoXZeWxd9xLRqxN8iJSFZVKj33D9MY7QISQJm7HMhpU/s1600/IMG_1468.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinyk5OFsNZ999RQw36-Sc7oM911furIun1tP9ksXlJKExxbI3cVRKw6mhHVNRj9W4kxZrBkGujpwzhsmXfMp6Y0MDN0VOY3CGmkoXZeWxd9xLRqxN8iJSFZVKj33D9MY7QISQJm7HMhpU/s640/IMG_1468.JPG" width="640" /></a></div></div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-56544649120808417492012-01-14T16:38:00.000-08:002012-01-14T16:38:02.647-08:00Peeping Tom<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzoaQUSJEeRVPTPvOtbu_72a37f1WAvhvJ7RvW2Cl43iBq1wgrSqgutGIb3oj3-E6kanrJnwAc1mYLsa-dhb4f22zm7OcGBph5zShLJiHjBGEWipTRobuV7sn2P2yUylWrZVBz3eE-NF0/s1600/IMAG0112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzoaQUSJEeRVPTPvOtbu_72a37f1WAvhvJ7RvW2Cl43iBq1wgrSqgutGIb3oj3-E6kanrJnwAc1mYLsa-dhb4f22zm7OcGBph5zShLJiHjBGEWipTRobuV7sn2P2yUylWrZVBz3eE-NF0/s640/IMAG0112.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Last fall we hung a small trail camera in our woods. John brought it in this morning and on it we have a few surprises like this little guy standing up on two legs. I like surprises. I like the magic of seeing animals do what animals do when we are not around.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">We saw this nice little basket rack in October; he's still out there!</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;">C O Y O T E</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Here's another one that got away.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn3BSRPWsdtT02qb9IQKEXVXzsQtH92dmEg7zsHf_JNp7fGhJ8fxc8MzfxVAHY5EpSmo5mnC3yLsBRS5rH4oQFje6jzE4j0UM8Kpbe5f13L4n1nLCWftWixOawamGGE0abVCYYcibq1gU/s1600/IMAG0034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn3BSRPWsdtT02qb9IQKEXVXzsQtH92dmEg7zsHf_JNp7fGhJ8fxc8MzfxVAHY5EpSmo5mnC3yLsBRS5rH4oQFje6jzE4j0UM8Kpbe5f13L4n1nLCWftWixOawamGGE0abVCYYcibq1gU/s640/IMAG0034.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I like seeing all the deer, not just the bucks. </span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_FmsrpYM0WfCBnrLNQth6NbUk7qoT3gYepNd6Ko9mQ1vFYDUCAn7ARxYnIAG2tWhwtSQQhMKIa67dA9P2PfvYGYHOhoi5TNLEAOy5wDsXT6F3MYM6BTjqsNdHKPPL6QHbI6Z2T6RAPHo/s1600/IMAG0064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_FmsrpYM0WfCBnrLNQth6NbUk7qoT3gYepNd6Ko9mQ1vFYDUCAn7ARxYnIAG2tWhwtSQQhMKIa67dA9P2PfvYGYHOhoi5TNLEAOy5wDsXT6F3MYM6BTjqsNdHKPPL6QHbI6Z2T6RAPHo/s640/IMAG0064.JPG" width="640" /></a></div> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjss4rl0IfuX9dSu4ofBy8hBQnvOfSPUe9iFjBEqGF6u-jC-zF441UOVONAWnZmRf6nIJNu_EGQIHR2JsDnpqJmr-CWWF4C82py8YJlHARtMTypOKj6ucXwN7O5J_EADJFmCuKXBAZVbxo/s1600/IMAG0054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjss4rl0IfuX9dSu4ofBy8hBQnvOfSPUe9iFjBEqGF6u-jC-zF441UOVONAWnZmRf6nIJNu_EGQIHR2JsDnpqJmr-CWWF4C82py8YJlHARtMTypOKj6ucXwN7O5J_EADJFmCuKXBAZVbxo/s640/IMAG0054.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTYA5kXhgmDzbjCTRF9JbWK4DHve5XBhvi11hku77tTA4cyTL7pwDPDf2x11HTGnx3AhVqurfeNRCX_MuP9WL_KUVNJ_bZ1b8M9q1IBYE7638BU_S270ZQbO_Ec-2eAG8_B8wVTKiRG7E/s1600/IMAG0111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTYA5kXhgmDzbjCTRF9JbWK4DHve5XBhvi11hku77tTA4cyTL7pwDPDf2x11HTGnx3AhVqurfeNRCX_MuP9WL_KUVNJ_bZ1b8M9q1IBYE7638BU_S270ZQbO_Ec-2eAG8_B8wVTKiRG7E/s640/IMAG0111.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">These deer are right behind my house!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzsTJM89b6i94l-G6IYLFo9ZY1GyJcaVU4ZtvG90lEs5nzdBrUBwdLBjr_hWwesUfUXq52b8sxsYYmJlcdsLZmWidnSJWrfPko6IgfnFgPMpr1LxC7-8zYTsdq-HmnC5ZkLHXN31FzAzs/s1600/IMAG0136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzsTJM89b6i94l-G6IYLFo9ZY1GyJcaVU4ZtvG90lEs5nzdBrUBwdLBjr_hWwesUfUXq52b8sxsYYmJlcdsLZmWidnSJWrfPko6IgfnFgPMpr1LxC7-8zYTsdq-HmnC5ZkLHXN31FzAzs/s640/IMAG0136.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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Last week we made an "emergency run" down to Cabelas (taking advantage of their employee discount days) for some better quality trail cameras. The one we have is just okay and the ones we wanted will do a better job next year. We will put them up in the spring and, hopefully, catch some does and fawns. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_fMe7XVZOMjn08fQBkdo3BPK1ORMFNnehqOQ1scDdHdBU8JQENUo0FDfWPxa7O3vTVeab7U4Sfu_FGLh68O-jnSFUqL-aDYQYnJsw9K9ir-Bt68WTAoE0fPTdoVsqAdGoAd1xJpasQg/s1600/IMAG0121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_fMe7XVZOMjn08fQBkdo3BPK1ORMFNnehqOQ1scDdHdBU8JQENUo0FDfWPxa7O3vTVeab7U4Sfu_FGLh68O-jnSFUqL-aDYQYnJsw9K9ir-Bt68WTAoE0fPTdoVsqAdGoAd1xJpasQg/s640/IMAG0121.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Full moon that night!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUEm2IWfsz-i0qHp9YhN98b82Bq-zXYeNvEUQkZGRlyO04TTZyvzTQxAF5UtFuh1yL_07FjjvSjanyu5P7Ndi7tFMuq8wRstCghn0ixmfrWtagNyLQwypzt7Of-EK6d7lZck5XD4iUZ14/s1600/IMAG0126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUEm2IWfsz-i0qHp9YhN98b82Bq-zXYeNvEUQkZGRlyO04TTZyvzTQxAF5UtFuh1yL_07FjjvSjanyu5P7Ndi7tFMuq8wRstCghn0ixmfrWtagNyLQwypzt7Of-EK6d7lZck5XD4iUZ14/s640/IMAG0126.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Turkeys by day</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmmH14oEeJITSvMLHuDuWTNvQbXXkl_f24-SQzxucbvKL1ilRSgSP8bAMpFbIOqPH_kYp-E-03gH3KFnNjq4onRx9qeja3EWsv4_YSpD_tuE1stEfpJikPlhM6C3yatTyj_LvjAUw6v8/s1600/IMAG0011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmmH14oEeJITSvMLHuDuWTNvQbXXkl_f24-SQzxucbvKL1ilRSgSP8bAMpFbIOqPH_kYp-E-03gH3KFnNjq4onRx9qeja3EWsv4_YSpD_tuE1stEfpJikPlhM6C3yatTyj_LvjAUw6v8/s640/IMAG0011.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Some seasons ago, we hung a trail camera out for weeks and when retrieved, the darn thing said we only had ONE picture on it. This is the ONE.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSGqPPwZ02aN-5v9yoVRx1k-gbg6OBcT4VRN6NgZvgWERTpfQYuw7Ifg85wcPq-nLSsucIaqZNYZ8g8aPd4NDKlf82_2POKiIBXUZotkfixiLTpJgwSKl4VpK_4894Ozns4HEtP6o0CVk/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSGqPPwZ02aN-5v9yoVRx1k-gbg6OBcT4VRN6NgZvgWERTpfQYuw7Ifg85wcPq-nLSsucIaqZNYZ8g8aPd4NDKlf82_2POKiIBXUZotkfixiLTpJgwSKl4VpK_4894Ozns4HEtP6o0CVk/s640/photo.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
He has a place of honor on our shelf. No one ever saw this buck in real life and hopefully he is still out there stomping around and getting fat on my soybeans.<br />
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</div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-56848829499058215602012-01-13T07:19:00.000-08:002012-01-13T07:30:06.957-08:00My hypothalamus needs to die.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU5Q1D-K3E8eRAtzUKi5gV6ZHKVj918CJ3rGXfLnCi92-Ie5Vn0sFjJQ62O4NV3BJMH2nupalsXhqfbvXf9Ywqm8Lia4Ymyvy6MqT6FklQEL2ynvcwP3HrMt-x6gl1BhUs1kdTt-Fmwl8/s1600/111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU5Q1D-K3E8eRAtzUKi5gV6ZHKVj918CJ3rGXfLnCi92-Ie5Vn0sFjJQ62O4NV3BJMH2nupalsXhqfbvXf9Ywqm8Lia4Ymyvy6MqT6FklQEL2ynvcwP3HrMt-x6gl1BhUs1kdTt-Fmwl8/s640/111.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"In addition to hot flashes, the heightened activity of the hypothalamus can cause mood swings, fatigue, feelings of being cold, and inappropriate responses to other stressors. As the name suggests, hot flashes are sudden, warm sensations on your face, neck, or chest. They can vary in duration from less than 1 minute to more than 6 minutes. They may come every hour or only occasionally. Often—but not always—they cause you to sweat. Some women may also feel irritated, annoyed, or frustrated during a hot flash."</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">That is the sugar coated version.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span>Just pluck my hypothalamus out of my brain,</div><div style="text-align: center;">roll it up, stomp on it for good measure,</div><div style="text-align: center;">and send it back to the hinges of hell where it came from.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Just sayin' </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM-_Ex6XNjZ_HNn3EbOKYhWUiGwFjzp1SYAJ8fcP-jt4xSbZ0hZpQ7Ex7_S3dfTYP_T1jo2bZjwWeZ68cQjgqlvBC_UkSUijwsgDzHPkqFI2nxIaGZWWbACrqRSldRrLrUNYQBtJMQNkU/s1600/Blog+Ideas3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM-_Ex6XNjZ_HNn3EbOKYhWUiGwFjzp1SYAJ8fcP-jt4xSbZ0hZpQ7Ex7_S3dfTYP_T1jo2bZjwWeZ68cQjgqlvBC_UkSUijwsgDzHPkqFI2nxIaGZWWbACrqRSldRrLrUNYQBtJMQNkU/s640/Blog+Ideas3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> I think Walt Disney used to be a woman. </span></div><div style="color: black; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The man knew.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: blue; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Apparently, all I need is a book.</span></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPb3w0Tuzl2WDY7p1vi9kXZX8GxpShoIrsNPfqbfc54-uYPLWn0JiV5IUGJC3wEtux0420hSbyQ_VDRtIEdKGSmVND7085rLGEwm6HbmJB-Na-_V5nxEjCXp9Ajqe-w14jiq8Ap1DtkHs/s1600/books.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPb3w0Tuzl2WDY7p1vi9kXZX8GxpShoIrsNPfqbfc54-uYPLWn0JiV5IUGJC3wEtux0420hSbyQ_VDRtIEdKGSmVND7085rLGEwm6HbmJB-Na-_V5nxEjCXp9Ajqe-w14jiq8Ap1DtkHs/s320/books.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglIDm3sjR_J20vgTKyO98n2_0cSdo0P5olf2PLNynnNJ85w7PizTmuhtJF1PuvsuFpXESTcjS8BXcBDah-IYJ-zaombGgahykbbuDZehg-7wMP-lfq3vL8fFToD0n8fVcKRegrzD3sDLQ/s1600/books2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglIDm3sjR_J20vgTKyO98n2_0cSdo0P5olf2PLNynnNJ85w7PizTmuhtJF1PuvsuFpXESTcjS8BXcBDah-IYJ-zaombGgahykbbuDZehg-7wMP-lfq3vL8fFToD0n8fVcKRegrzD3sDLQ/s320/books2.jpg" width="211" /></a><b><span style="color: red;">Hot Flash buddies</span></b> Faye, Alice, Marilyn, Shirley and newcomer Polly beat the postmenopausal blues by <u>chattering, complaining, shopping, eating and laughing</u> their way together through the series' third installment. Their would-be picture-perfect holiday season starts out at Shirley's Haven, a thriving spa serving mature New England women. Snowflakes fall and Christmas carols play as the friends decorate the tree. Then sweet-tempered Polly goes home to cook for her vegetarian daughter-in-law and <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">nearly burns down the house</span></span>; artistic Faye <span style="color: red;">breaks her ankle</span> rushing to pick her granddaughter up at the airport; practical businesswoman Alice finds her family expanding<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> in spite of her misgiving</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">s</span></span></span>; paleobiologist Marilyn struggles with <span style="color: red;">caring for her elderly mother</span>; and <span style="font-size: x-large;">Shirley gives her young boyfriend money to self-publish his novel in the erroneous belief that he'll reciprocate with an engagement ring.</span> <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span><b style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"></span></b> More holiday fiascoes follow, from New Year's through Thanksgiving to another Christmas. Thayer creates sympathetic<span style="font-size: large;"> sexagenarians</span> with adoring <span style="color: red;">(if sometimes impotent)</span> lovers, untapped talents and visions of future happiness. <u>Cholesterol-laden binges make for sluggish prose, hot flash jokes pall and contrived scenes spill over with sentiment</u>-<span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span style="color: blue; font-size: small;">yet <span style="font-size: large;">who</span> could fail to root for the five as they face aging with honesty, determination and a lot of help from their friends?</span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKu3vCHWSQ31L_-PQ79zNUjZ2NuR_ETz2UGORBzHA9QXC7EBcv6J9RCuh727rzHj5r52T-XzdN0-UVAsAkJt2NxhU7wFqhnKSAMcpjoPU7iCf1E_c0fVU3Oaw7n5KvWnSkwOS0R5RJRY/s1600/11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKu3vCHWSQ31L_-PQ79zNUjZ2NuR_ETz2UGORBzHA9QXC7EBcv6J9RCuh727rzHj5r52T-XzdN0-UVAsAkJt2NxhU7wFqhnKSAMcpjoPU7iCf1E_c0fVU3Oaw7n5KvWnSkwOS0R5RJRY/s320/11.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Are you kidding me?</span></div><br />
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</div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-83655631339844475362012-01-01T12:20:00.000-08:002012-01-01T12:33:01.047-08:00Stadium Pretzels<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZONAunkP5PU/TwCuHBs8VBI/AAAAAAAANEE/3Ls_J3-kj-o/s1600/photo44444444.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZONAunkP5PU/TwCuHBs8VBI/AAAAAAAANEE/3Ls_J3-kj-o/s640/photo44444444.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Use the K.I.S.S. Method when working with bread. (Keep it simple, silly) but always start out with the finest flour.</span></span><br />
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<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">To big bowl add:</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">3/4 cup warm water</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">1 pkg. active dry yeast</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> 1-1/2 tsp. sugar</span></span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">2 Tbl. melted butter</span></span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">1 tsp. salt</span></span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">2-1/4 cups all purpose flour</span></span></span></li>
</ul><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Semqw-Rx8ZU/TwC2MbUHtHI/AAAAAAAANFY/GVap0PgiwqM/s1600/photo2244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Semqw-Rx8ZU/TwC2MbUHtHI/AAAAAAAANFY/GVap0PgiwqM/s400/photo2244.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Mix it into a softball. Let it take a nap under a blanket for 20 minutes. Pinch off a glob and shape each glob into a pretzel. Let it sit 20 minutes more. </span></span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LzEy7QoJvTE/TwC0EAYjbtI/AAAAAAAANE0/riDRtMdQ5ec/s1600/photoggrr.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LzEy7QoJvTE/TwC0EAYjbtI/AAAAAAAANE0/riDRtMdQ5ec/s640/photoggrr.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XhIMLd78xgE/TwC0e-KmJbI/AAAAAAAANE8/SM-ZrIqQoFY/s1600/photogrg.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XhIMLd78xgE/TwC0e-KmJbI/AAAAAAAANE8/SM-ZrIqQoFY/s640/photogrg.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Gbj06F3sjJ8/TwC0n38VcMI/AAAAAAAANFM/sOGGnaa-jaA/s1600/photorrrrrrrr.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Gbj06F3sjJ8/TwC0n38VcMI/AAAAAAAANFM/sOGGnaa-jaA/s320/photorrrrrrrr.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Brush top with beaten egg white and course salt. Bake at 425 degrees on greased pan (PAM Spray) for 10 to 12 minutes or until golden brown.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The work horse in my kitchen is my Kitchen-Aid Mix Master. Honestly, I know I wouldn't be making all the breads, noodles, and goodies I do if I had to use a portable mixer. <i style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> I probably wouldn't be able to find the little beater bars half of the time.</i></span></span></span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">During those 20 minutes</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">when my pretzels are rising,</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I mess around</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">in the iclouds</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">with my iphone's pictures.</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Here's what I made today!</span></span><i style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</i></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </i></span></span></span><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_d9dth9LcUQ/TwC3e5aavwI/AAAAAAAANFk/mCoSjuQdvMU/s1600/Remi+at+Cumberland+Falls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="494" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_d9dth9LcUQ/TwC3e5aavwI/AAAAAAAANFk/mCoSjuQdvMU/s640/Remi+at+Cumberland+Falls.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I like to have my breads, rolls and pretzels</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">look home made so I don't overthink it.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> It is what it is. </span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">And what it is tastes just fine. </span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">And if you don't like it, don't look.</span></span></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></span></span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QU5ZpPDC-lg/TwC5Pbso70I/AAAAAAAANFw/p8dikTyduwI/s1600/photogf.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QU5ZpPDC-lg/TwC5Pbso70I/AAAAAAAANFw/p8dikTyduwI/s640/photogf.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">To make honey-mustard pretzels, just add the following to the egg whites before you brush them on:</span></span></span></span><br />
<ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">stone ground dijon mustard</span></span></span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Michigan honey</span></span></span></span></li>
</ul><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Use however much you like. After brushing, sprinkle on your course salt or table salt.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></span></span></span></span><br />
<div style="color: #741b47; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Voila! Honey Mustard Stadium Pretzels.</span></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VrBJuPdDbFM/TwC64trUSDI/AAAAAAAANF8/_hBSHYnJv6w/s1600/gg.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VrBJuPdDbFM/TwC64trUSDI/AAAAAAAANF8/_hBSHYnJv6w/s640/gg.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Here's the finished pretzels</b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>and Martha Who? can stick it. </b> </span></span></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-umtuSxnu-9Q/TwC9xMW8JfI/AAAAAAAANGI/1NxoEolBh-U/s1600/photo44.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-umtuSxnu-9Q/TwC9xMW8JfI/AAAAAAAANGI/1NxoEolBh-U/s640/photo44.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HBDmAeIVdtI/TwC99K9qHgI/AAAAAAAANGQ/3lcRUaxNXlI/s1600/photo2222222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HBDmAeIVdtI/TwC99K9qHgI/AAAAAAAANGQ/3lcRUaxNXlI/s400/photo2222222.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Final thought...</i></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Just started drinking this and love it! It comes like a drink box with a straw. 90 calories of liquid heaven. Great on plain cereal. It is low fat and has more calcium than milk...I sure don't want to break a hip in 2012! (wink)</i></span></span></span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY</span></b></span><i style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></span></span></div></div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-15867488150645785432011-12-29T19:30:00.000-08:002011-12-29T19:30:54.091-08:00Pink Eye<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U516WrNnshU/Tv0a-634uaI/AAAAAAAAL0I/mqGfV-FFjmg/s1600/uu.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U516WrNnshU/Tv0a-634uaI/AAAAAAAAL0I/mqGfV-FFjmg/s320/uu.JPG" width="238" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Conjunctivitis</b> is funny, really funny --on somebody else. Apparently, animals get it too. They don't have to spend $100 and two hours at the doc's office to cure it. Billy the Goat, Elsie, and SeaBiscuit trot on down to the local feed and grain store to pick up a BLUE bottle of PINK Eye Spray. They find it right next to the Thrush-Buster and just down from where they keep the half gallon "baby bottles."</span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QtS5II8hSl8/Tv0c7sYa9SI/AAAAAAAAL0U/fRTbboOS5Eo/s1600/picture+frame+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QtS5II8hSl8/Tv0c7sYa9SI/AAAAAAAAL0U/fRTbboOS5Eo/s400/picture+frame+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I was just at the Durand Feed Store to pick up some supplies: Purina Goat Chow, some Layena Crumbles for my Chickens (get it...LAYena--the name still "cracks" me up) and some <u>more</u> bulk birdseed--damn those squirrels. <br />
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Prior to embracing a farm life, I had only been in city pet shops, each with a doggie in the window, a few toys and treats, and maybe a fish tank. Back then I used to get all fired up about going to the Office Supply Store. Well let me tell you, the Feed Store and the Hardware Store do it for me now. Where else can you find mole traps when you need them? <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8kja2BjTa_4/Tv0e-5Zk-CI/AAAAAAAAL0g/FdhG5IhBd9s/s1600/picture+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8kja2BjTa_4/Tv0e-5Zk-CI/AAAAAAAAL0g/FdhG5IhBd9s/s640/picture+frame.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-itHuBtXnv2Q/Tv0i3ZF20KI/AAAAAAAAL1Y/NuRh1vnBPG4/s1600/DriveThruArea4001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-itHuBtXnv2Q/Tv0i3ZF20KI/AAAAAAAAL1Y/NuRh1vnBPG4/s640/DriveThruArea4001.jpg" width="484" /></a></div>The Feed Store doesn't have a lot of fancy signs or displays. You are supposed to know what you want. You are supposed to know to drive around to the back barn's drive-thru to get your big bags loaded. Once you know these things, you feel like you belong. If you want to know something, you just ask. I like that. Most are family operations. I like that.<br />
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The Feed Store's colorful shelves and shiny metal objects caught my attention today and I focused on the offerings. Got Krud? Spray on a little Cowboy Magic's "Krudbuster" and no one will know. Bleeding profusely? Apply some Blood Stop Powder...a little dab will do ya. Stacked tall on wooden pallets are giant bags of pig chow, goat chow, horse chow, dog chow, and rabbit chow. Did you know rabbits chowed? I thought they nibbled.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9crekW4OvnA/Tv0hBkLPj-I/AAAAAAAAL0s/WQAkHUbkUes/s1600/feed-store.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="441" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9crekW4OvnA/Tv0hBkLPj-I/AAAAAAAAL0s/WQAkHUbkUes/s640/feed-store.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> You can buy cattle panel, electric fencing, heat elements for water buckets, water buckets you can bathe in, and every kind of latch, clip, brush or feeder. The whole place was a mystery to me when my farming roots began to grow. The names of things make me smile. How about a bag of Nicker Maker Horse Treats...isn't that cute? <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NfK9N2y0RVU/Tv0hMsYZ0dI/AAAAAAAAL00/gNTw0pnxANE/s1600/gff.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="475" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NfK9N2y0RVU/Tv0hMsYZ0dI/AAAAAAAAL00/gNTw0pnxANE/s640/gff.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blood Stop is great to use if you clip a dog's nail bed too far.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yc4WRFtYDc0/Tv0hY5GzZdI/AAAAAAAAL08/GniEOBdOEGY/s1600/hj.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="476" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yc4WRFtYDc0/Tv0hY5GzZdI/AAAAAAAAL08/GniEOBdOEGY/s640/hj.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm not sure, but I think there are many useful uses for KrudBuster.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pPX9aYXS7K0/Tv0hlSaHEfI/AAAAAAAAL1E/EqzKLiPz30g/s1600/kkkkk.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pPX9aYXS7K0/Tv0hlSaHEfI/AAAAAAAAL1E/EqzKLiPz30g/s640/kkkkk.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stuff for Horsies!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cFPSzvpQUwA/Tv0huhhx49I/AAAAAAAAL1M/zGgM2vhQzP4/s1600/photokkjg.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cFPSzvpQUwA/Tv0huhhx49I/AAAAAAAAL1M/zGgM2vhQzP4/s640/photokkjg.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most elevators have a vintage scale either on display or still in service.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NA9RvqeFnWE/Tv0l3_C05HI/AAAAAAAAL1k/JST-vQmMcX4/s1600/4376288366_6bd9f460ae.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NA9RvqeFnWE/Tv0l3_C05HI/AAAAAAAAL1k/JST-vQmMcX4/s400/4376288366_6bd9f460ae.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The best part about going to the Feed Store is ordering your baby chicks for the coming spring. </span> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Day old baby chicks are shipped from growers to the Post Office or to the Feed Store via bulk orders. If you order chicks online, the minimum order is 25 and you pick them up at the Post Office. If you order from the Feed Store, you can order as many or as few as you like. Usually I will place an order for a dozen</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> and when I open the box, I find a baker has been counting.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> Ordering from the Feed Store is nice because you can mix and match the breeds. Collecting chickens is serious business. There are big ones, friendly ones, small ones, white ones, mean ones, red ones, speckled hens, ones that wear "hats" and at least three egg colors to choose from including "Easter egg color". </span><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Then, one day in the spring, when you are at the Meijer Store with a cart full of groceries and your to-do list includes 42 more things, you get THE CALL. The Chicks are in! The speaker says you must come and get your chicks NOW. They chirp a lot.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">EGGcellent!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Another chance to go back to the Feed Store.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g4NrZE1dVqg/Tv0l4jX1uvI/AAAAAAAAL10/oWRlTr8-9aM/s1600/June+11+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="494" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g4NrZE1dVqg/Tv0l4jX1uvI/AAAAAAAAL10/oWRlTr8-9aM/s640/June+11+004.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chicks can live for two days without food or water and are shipped overnight.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i8CVI_sqmcQ/Tv0r-8Fw8GI/AAAAAAAAL2A/lzUUw8sLwdE/s1600/e.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i8CVI_sqmcQ/Tv0r-8Fw8GI/AAAAAAAAL2A/lzUUw8sLwdE/s640/e.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Durand, MI Elevator and Feed Store on December 29, 2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XF3pJFxCKFU/Tv0sKT7mtCI/AAAAAAAAL2I/GVbAhixNrvI/s1600/gggg.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XF3pJFxCKFU/Tv0sKT7mtCI/AAAAAAAAL2I/GVbAhixNrvI/s640/gggg.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's where they mix and mill specialty feed for cattle, goats, horses and birds.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RojlINwcxDU/Tv0sSxPK-GI/AAAAAAAAL2Q/pQqDnf28EG4/s1600/remi.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RojlINwcxDU/Tv0sSxPK-GI/AAAAAAAAL2Q/pQqDnf28EG4/s640/remi.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remi HATES squirrels. This guy is taking a big chance!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-18346663903974555662011-12-27T14:03:00.000-08:002011-12-27T15:07:13.598-08:00Knurt is Trunk Spelled Backwards<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S58I4TV7dWI/Tvo8lZsvPiI/AAAAAAAALwk/-PSr-jAkzDw/s1600/swiss-army-knife.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="271" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S58I4TV7dWI/Tvo8lZsvPiI/AAAAAAAALwk/-PSr-jAkzDw/s320/swiss-army-knife.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="color: #20124d; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">I don’t normally let people peek in my trunk (or under my hood) but I’ll take one for the team this winter.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> When you are 20 years old, your trunk has absolutely nothing useful in it.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> By age 30, you might throw in a set of jumper cables, having learned to do so the hard way.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> When you are 50 years old, your trunk has everything necessary to survive Armageddon.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1D7qgMMpE94/Tvo3Ly4zVnI/AAAAAAAALtc/ROJ5HR61IcU/s1600/the-modern-woman-bad-drivers-crankyhead-demotivational-poster-1281838332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MTDt6c2QI1A/Tvo8BEYcW7I/AAAAAAAALwM/jUptyAmtXlY/s1600/winter-car-care.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MTDt6c2QI1A/Tvo8BEYcW7I/AAAAAAAALwM/jUptyAmtXlY/s320/winter-car-care.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> Let’s just say some crazy driver (probably with Ohio plates) drives me off an icy road, and my car rolls over twelve times down a snowy embankment, landing exposed, with its belly in the air as the tires spin to a slow stop. No problem. I just reach into the center compartment, get out my Swiss, cut through my shoulder harness, and wiggle my way back to to the trunk. There I find heat packs, food and Band-aids. I will just sit tight and wear my trunk on my back, like a snail wears its shell, until help arrives.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9ERtoF0w10E/Tvo4L27USXI/AAAAAAAALuM/GRGYHBTkRjw/s1600/indiana-drivers-license-1940.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="184" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9ERtoF0w10E/Tvo4L27USXI/AAAAAAAALuM/GRGYHBTkRjw/s320/indiana-drivers-license-1940.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Maybe there’s a guy on the expressway (with Indiana plates) who, is texting with one hand and guzzling down a Red Bull with the other. His knees are doing the driving and then his ears tell him to change the radio station. “Slick” reaches over to change his XM Station from Heavy Metal and gets Heavy Pedal instead. He plows into me, causing my car to spin 360’s (I kinda like it, I’m not gonna lie) until I fall off the Zilwaukee Bridge into the water far below. No problem. On the way down, I reach back for my inflatable raft, K-rations, and emergency beacon.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RYoGcYpTRko/Tvo7KuGJMrI/AAAAAAAALvc/1jOhS3vdiEY/s1600/vintage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RYoGcYpTRko/Tvo7KuGJMrI/AAAAAAAALvc/1jOhS3vdiEY/s640/vintage.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="color: #741b47;"><b><br />
</b></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="color: red; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">I can live for weeks trapped in my car</span></b></div><div style="color: red; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">in a snow covered ditch and I’m proud of it.</span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></b></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Each October,<b> <span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">on my dad’s birthday</span></b>, I go through the trunk</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">in my typical obsessive, compulsive fashion and stuff it</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">with ESSENTIAL safety items.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> <u>Here’s a peek</u>:</span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oB9YZzix3uM/Tvo9kMxpqNI/AAAAAAAALww/MQyYPOWslsU/s1600/370327994_9a20748681_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oB9YZzix3uM/Tvo9kMxpqNI/AAAAAAAALww/MQyYPOWslsU/s400/370327994_9a20748681_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Water, Aspirin, Benedryl, Vaseline, Heat Packs</li>
<li>Pen & Paper</li>
<li>My Big Swiss Army Knife</li>
<li>Flashlight, Waterproof Matches, Candles </li>
<li>Two Sided Flag--White, Orange</li>
<li>WD-40, Zip Strips, Electrical Tape, Duct Tape, Bungee Cords</li>
<li>Plastic Tarp </li>
<li>Large ZipLoc Bags </li>
<li>Wet Wipes</li>
<li>Wire and String</li>
<li>Kitty Litter</li>
<li>Johnson & Johnson First Aid Kit </li>
<li>Emergency Flare Gun</li>
<li>Old Coat, Spare Socks, Two Blankets, Plastic Poncho</li>
<li>Protein Bars</li>
<li>Nail Polish (why not)</li>
<li>Orange Emergency Triangles</li>
<li>Crow Bar, Tow Rope, Tire Mats</li>
<li>Hammer, Screwdriver & Pliers</li>
<li>A Hat, Gloves AND BOOTS </li>
<li>The 30' Heavy Duty Jumper Cables that my dad made for me</li>
<li>Crossword Puzzle Book</li>
<li>And clean underwear (just in case) </li>
</ul><div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"> <b style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47;"> A country girl can survive.</span></b></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div></div></div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-72878833882668717552011-12-17T12:12:00.000-08:002011-12-17T18:03:40.220-08:0030 Years, Hopes and Fears<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqEDBtLhm2tF5ZghT34m5l5qWqo2rgrLEWYlNbXJ07V9eHZYvBmG4UzCx5YmH61OW8s4okpqouLVm-Et_uiVUmnh_vP5Ya5BheurjV2UqmK1h8WvmMR-b1rwS0HNsm3ZUeGpAq97zN4wA/s1600/photo%25289%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqEDBtLhm2tF5ZghT34m5l5qWqo2rgrLEWYlNbXJ07V9eHZYvBmG4UzCx5YmH61OW8s4okpqouLVm-Et_uiVUmnh_vP5Ya5BheurjV2UqmK1h8WvmMR-b1rwS0HNsm3ZUeGpAq97zN4wA/s640/photo%25289%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Thirty years ago TODAY, I became a mother. A young woman is just a girl until she has a child. At the exact moment a brand new cry startles the room, hot tears streak her cheeks and her heart is peeled open, almost wounded or branded. The girl is gone. In her place is a woman with unlimited courage, righteousness, and virtue. She will protect and defend. In that moment, really, two beings are born: the she bear and her cub. She thanks God for deliverance.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOnluiipKGq8Y7ZxWGw0s2TZR2Nx1k1hG2larx7uiY0QnV7lyqTmkf4VHt5ShO0-xWPogRn7Qp4TtXrmMV-eNGKTypg64u7zKL8jkhvpgNLwxCXyLrW8tFFbyWnh1sO9k0j5U6dQsjOtE/s1600/June+2011+35532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOnluiipKGq8Y7ZxWGw0s2TZR2Nx1k1hG2larx7uiY0QnV7lyqTmkf4VHt5ShO0-xWPogRn7Qp4TtXrmMV-eNGKTypg64u7zKL8jkhvpgNLwxCXyLrW8tFFbyWnh1sO9k0j5U6dQsjOtE/s320/June+2011+35532.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>From that instant, she has to think twice--once for herself and once for her child. Over the next 18 years, she applies Band-aids and justice, builds character, and holds high expectations. It all starts in the silence of night, when a mother rocks back and forth, back and forth, clutching her baby, soothing it. Her dreams are released and float up from her heart, to God's ear, as she whispers them to a baby kept warm and safe in her embrace.<br />
<br />
Diapers, school plays, and decades roll by along with Halloween costumes, science fair projects, and driving lessons. Stories are told and retold, weaving a strong family fabric with a sense of self and pride. She focuses on the big picture, providing experiences that enrich and educate. She worries. She smiles. She bakes. Sometimes she cries.<br />
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He grows up and leaves home and she pretends it is okay. Her head says one thing but her heart, another. Her work is done: there are others. He is her finest moment; her pride, her joy. She takes comfort in knowing that within him lies immortality.</div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-34730159113859019782011-12-15T23:55:00.000-08:002011-12-15T23:55:40.770-08:00A Regular Outlaw<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JVHBVgWNqrA/TsiTOEZ4AHI/AAAAAAAADYc/aA4PRTpapGw/s1600/2011-11-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JVHBVgWNqrA/TsiTOEZ4AHI/AAAAAAAADYc/aA4PRTpapGw/s640/2011-11-20.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small;"><b><b>The Strawberry Roan</b></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><b>Well, down in the horse corral standing alone, was that old cavayo, a Strawberry Roan. His legs were spavined, and he had pigeon toes, little pig eyes and a big Roman nose. Little pin ears that were crimped at the tip, with a big 44 branded 'cross his left hip. He's ewe-necked and old, with a long lower jaw; you can see with one eye he's a reg'lar outlaw. </b></b></span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><b>Well I puts on my spurs and I coils up my twine--I piled my loop on him; I'm sure feeling fine. I put the blinds on him, it sure was a fight. Next comes my saddle, and I screws it down tight. I gets in his middle and opens the blind; I'm in the right spot to see him unwind. </b></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><b>He's about the worst bucker I've seen on the range; he can turn on a nickel and give you some change. He turns his old belly right up to the sun. He sure is one sun-fishin' son of a gun! </b></b></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1WaREYnTWcEAa2pTSZ2-150rwky98b5tFn30TQf4RYTcPPljNIQk97Yd588zcGyzh0znEMrBktk9BijstU9EQCF1jcfw3kdFBFVNKW4GKgLfoxxF83fVhIgq9ZGkRkGvBPL1wQmj0scg/s1600/11111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1WaREYnTWcEAa2pTSZ2-150rwky98b5tFn30TQf4RYTcPPljNIQk97Yd588zcGyzh0znEMrBktk9BijstU9EQCF1jcfw3kdFBFVNKW4GKgLfoxxF83fVhIgq9ZGkRkGvBPL1wQmj0scg/s320/11111.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><b> He goes up on all fours and comes down on his side. I don't know what keeps him from losin' his hide. I loses my stirrup and also my hat, I starts pulling leather--I'm blind as a bat. With a big forward jump he goes up on high; I turns over twice and I comes back to earth--I lights in a-cussin' the day of his birth.</b></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><b> I know there is ponies I'm unable to ride. Some are still living; they haven't all died. I'll bet all my money the man ain't alive that can stay with Old Strawberry when he makes his high dive. </b></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><b><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i></i></span></b></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><b><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Moe Brandy, The Strawberry Roan</i></span></b></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><b><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><a href="http://www.last.fm/music/Moe+Bandy/Moe+Bandy+-+Cowboy+Songs">http://www.last.fm/music/Moe+Bandy/Moe+Bandy+-+Cowboy+Songs</a> </i></span></b></b></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWxpV54htBXF8BMejLQSEiBVa6CdjVZThAzOROionDUvqWq_oJAA2ahmL4lFRpUQtK5qk_COy5-8Swjhdab7jEQGmgYCCts9s2_cbe5e4NbonaUQW9Zkq75Gt7dMiiX7n9-5m3Xws80Mk/s1600/Cowboy+with+Lasso.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWxpV54htBXF8BMejLQSEiBVa6CdjVZThAzOROionDUvqWq_oJAA2ahmL4lFRpUQtK5qk_COy5-8Swjhdab7jEQGmgYCCts9s2_cbe5e4NbonaUQW9Zkq75Gt7dMiiX7n9-5m3Xws80Mk/s320/Cowboy+with+Lasso.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvRtcBfuaPXe2Lh788ycv2HvgmUb1zU721bVJr6V2ZtqURLNWHB1sgFKPgOao8NYdzoI6_pC9KVj8K8MyewuaJiRzpsMjRGUHLOm1gv-NOJT513T8FGbKbVA_YpyZD6VYJstBSv9YRgQ/s1600/cowboy_rope.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvRtcBfuaPXe2Lh788ycv2HvgmUb1zU721bVJr6V2ZtqURLNWHB1sgFKPgOao8NYdzoI6_pC9KVj8K8MyewuaJiRzpsMjRGUHLOm1gv-NOJT513T8FGbKbVA_YpyZD6VYJstBSv9YRgQ/s320/cowboy_rope.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><b><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i> </i></span> </b></b></span></div></div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-15778033374410503712011-12-10T13:11:00.000-08:002011-12-10T20:09:02.263-08:00De-Vinely Delicious<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0bL6kbf1LmM/TuOg2qC7tYI/AAAAAAAAFDQ/C1Ficn74XrA/s1600/IMG_2995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0bL6kbf1LmM/TuOg2qC7tYI/AAAAAAAAFDQ/C1Ficn74XrA/s320/IMG_2995.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;">Roasted Tomato</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Basil Soup</span><br />
<div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"> For Dummies</span></i></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></i></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Get out an 11x17" baking sheet. Fill it with tomatoes that are cored and halved. I use Roma and red ripe ones, on the vine (about 2.5 lbs</span></span><span style="font-size: small;">). <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Slice 2 small yellow onions and cover the tomatoes. </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> Next, sprinkle 6 cloves of garlic on top, 1/2 cup of EVOO, and salt/pepper to taste. </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Roast at 450 degrees for 20 minutes.</b></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dump the roasted mixture into a big stock pot, including any liquids on the baking sheet. To this add: 3 cups of chicken broth (I use Knorr in the little cups), 4 bay leaves, and 1/2 stick unsalted butter. Simmer 20 minutes and discard the bay leaves.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H-ZMhLdsE0k/TuOg84UueHI/AAAAAAAAFDk/uKkCB5dA9Z0/s1600/DeVinely+Delicious+1211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H-ZMhLdsE0k/TuOg84UueHI/AAAAAAAAFDk/uKkCB5dA9Z0/s320/DeVinely+Delicious+1211.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">Add 1/2 cup chopped fresh basil leaves and puree the soup with an immersion blender until smooth. Alternative method: puree in food processor. Then add 3/4 cup heaving whipping cream.</span> <br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>D O N E</b></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NJg_X5vXCB8/TuOg6c8bjWI/AAAAAAAAFDc/KOwss3oFdj8/s1600/IMG_3042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NJg_X5vXCB8/TuOg6c8bjWI/AAAAAAAAFDc/KOwss3oFdj8/s640/IMG_3042.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Uh, oh!</span></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Scroll Down for a slide show and to pick past posts to read.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rMOQb_SPA3w/TuOg7vtTL7I/AAAAAAAAFDg/C5FVqrzeJA4/s1600/IMG_3048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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</div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-73651804679333422952011-12-07T17:09:00.000-08:002011-12-20T22:18:46.570-08:00Pearls Before Swine<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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Icy north winds blew snow across the endless Iowa prairie and over the backs of huddled up cattle as I headed eastbound, through the corn belt on I-80, from Coon Rapids, Iowa--back home--to Flint, Michigan. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> The landscape was surreal. Nothing broke the plain except for a few clusters of twisted, gnarled oak trees and weather beaten grain elevators. The main industry along my route was ethanol production. Every so often a small town sprang up around a silver nucleus of massive corn silos. "Colder than a well digger's arse" came to mind when I saw the exhaled breath steaming out from frosted calf noses and each time a hard shiver made me want to turn up the heater in the truck.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wzyuOLe4Y4c/Tt9VtbmCAbI/AAAAAAAAEfU/ZeQAgB4Id9w/s1600/IMG_2626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="434" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wzyuOLe4Y4c/Tt9VtbmCAbI/AAAAAAAAEfU/ZeQAgB4Id9w/s640/IMG_2626.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>The people living here in this desolate, undulating landscape warm it up with their smiles, their humor, and their genuine interest and thoughtfulness. The creators who wrote the movie, "Field of Dreams" got it wrong when Kevin Costner answered the question, "Is this Heaven?" with, "No, It's Iowa." This big, empty State is full of carrot crusted snowmen, old church bells, and Sunday suppers complete with hand kneaded breads and home baked pies. Children are children here, Christmas lights are everywhere, ice skates hang on a hook at the back door, and thick-coated Labrador Retrievers make great feet warmers at night. <br />
<br />
Meet Old Yeller. He is 13 and a half years strong.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9QlAhdSs2F0/Tt_fhmzhK5I/AAAAAAAAE1U/4wrAkrIxUbY/s1600/IMG_0881.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9QlAhdSs2F0/Tt_fhmzhK5I/AAAAAAAAE1U/4wrAkrIxUbY/s320/IMG_0881.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Coon Rapids has a vibrant, historic downtown shopping district sans a Walmart, KMart, or grocery conglomerate. These are family-owned businesses where grandchildren work elbow to elbow with grandparents. After being in town just a few days, I stopped up at the Hardware Store for some parts. The woman behind the counter asked, "You must be Kelly?" A big, fat smile spread from cheek to cheek as it dawned on me that just being new here made you special.<br />
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I came to Coon Rapids out of "necessity"....my husband was deer hunting in "Macke Land" --with a family he has loved to hunt with for the past 12 years. This year, however, a business meeting cut his deer camp week short so, anticipating the inevitable (he doesn't lack confidence or optimism) he recruited me to drive him to the airport at the end of his hunt and to deliver his <u>deer meat</u>, <u>antlers</u>, <u>gear</u> (oh, and his <u>hunting dog</u>) all the way back home, a distance of 700 miles. At first glance, it seems I was doing him the favor. As it turns out, the gift was mine.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-osUx4xJ2fdM/Tt9WJjCz3lI/AAAAAAAAEgY/c6a5_r9bU9Y/s1600/IMG_2670.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-osUx4xJ2fdM/Tt9WJjCz3lI/AAAAAAAAEgY/c6a5_r9bU9Y/s640/IMG_2670.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>I've lived with this man for 30 years and have listened to all of his big swamp buck stories. This year I was privy to all the camp lingo and the strategies that make blood brothers out of men. Stuff like: Day two, dark-thirty...BBD. (Just to whet your whistle and show off some tough guy swagger that I picked up at deer camp.) <u>Big Buck Down</u>.<br />
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Finally, I was able to get into a stand of precious timber, see this Boone & Crockett buck down where he was harvested, and witness the respect for the game and the chase that our group of hunters has. Then came the fun part: watching two grown men sweat and struggle to drag this monster buck some distance down a ravine, then back up a ravine, and finally heave it into the bed of a pick up truck on the count of three. I played dumb and watched while their antics tickled my funny bone. John climbed up into his tree stand and relived the action for me, minute by heart pounding minute. I could see Christmas morning in my husband's eyes. When I put my arms around him for our picture, I felt him still shaking like a little girl from the adrenaline rush. I smiled at him, on my inside. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IqQeOPuGVaQ/Tt9VHpcwrZI/AAAAAAAAEeA/Re0dMOHlP4Q/s1600/IMG_2571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IqQeOPuGVaQ/Tt9VHpcwrZI/AAAAAAAAEeA/Re0dMOHlP4Q/s400/IMG_2571.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Our hosts prepared a MAN CAVE dinner with 2" steaks sizzling on the grill to celebrate. The area Game Warden (Title always capitalized here in Macke Land) stopped by for a bite and a story. Gus entertained him with stories about how he "influences" trespassers (pumpkin heads) who "no speak-a-da English" to master the language REAL QUICK once they are busted on his land. The whole camp is on a "swat team" high alert for Pumpkin Heads at all times.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u4OTGxKWOl0/Tt9Xf5U7tsI/AAAAAAAAEjY/D110jNPIvKY/s1600/IMG_2725.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u4OTGxKWOl0/Tt9Xf5U7tsI/AAAAAAAAEjY/D110jNPIvKY/s400/IMG_2725.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>The next day the meat packer sent out a 9-1-1 call to us saying that we had to get over to his shop before dark thirty, a day early, because he already had 35 townies come through, taking pictures of John's deer, and trouble was brewing. EVERYONE heard about this buck. He knew that someone would help themselves to these antlers before dawn. He didn't want to be responsible.<br />
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This was our cue. We said our goodbyes, collected our things, our dog, and our memories and left town with our buck of a lifetime. On the way to the airport and just<br />
outside of Iowa City, a frozen ravine caught my eye. I looked down from the bridge and saw five perched bald eagles! My heart skipped a beat.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gNwZ532kjSI/Tt9ahvSfr6I/AAAAAAAAEqg/3GBAcKo7-bY/s1600/IMG_2929.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gNwZ532kjSI/Tt9ahvSfr6I/AAAAAAAAEqg/3GBAcKo7-bY/s640/IMG_2929.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
By 2 p.m. John was on his flight and I was eastbound and down headed for the Michigan line. FAST. After a testosterone filled week, I was ready to "git-r-done". 600 more miles to go without heat in the car (we have to keep the processed meat frozen and the hide from reeking--which was incentive enough for me to follow the rules--this time). I threw up the radar detector and set the cruise at 84. In no time, I reached the world's largest I-80 truck stop. They have three giant semi trucks in there on display, a laundromat, a hotel, several restaurants, a parts department featuring CHROME and a wall of rig lighting--plus a Ginormous gift shop.<br />
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Boda-boom-boda-bing.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wvbzqq99P8U/Tt_iQUnGf3I/AAAAAAAAE60/A7ym9no9bmU/s1600/i80.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wvbzqq99P8U/Tt_iQUnGf3I/AAAAAAAAE60/A7ym9no9bmU/s320/i80.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EhBcqY_utRk/Tt_iNsoDhzI/AAAAAAAAE6o/hqLw56vKMCE/s1600/big+nasty+7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EhBcqY_utRk/Tt_iNsoDhzI/AAAAAAAAE6o/hqLw56vKMCE/s640/big+nasty+7.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>So far, so good. I passed the three I's without smelling any bacon. Iowa, Illinois, and Indiana. At midnight I crossed the Michigan line, making time. Yes, I listened to Dr. Laura, XM's The Highway, Fox News Channel, and Blue Collar Radio. I admit it. With 50 miles to go, my phone rang. It was John. He was at his hotel and thought to check on....his Dear...his Deer. You decide. <br />
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As soon as I bragged about my speed, my time, and my total <u>awesomeness</u>....I was attacked by big flashing cherries in the rear view mirror. Yep, I took my eye off the ball for a minute and Porky came calling. What to do, what to do.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5xzYSyYbZVlkcHWdTrh05gk0E3xm5XRH1qUTIINUbmUkUBHK4_i24bO6abTj1FPqK6MinLUJStRXPYf841S1eIP3hYIgaL1ghs2TEZoSdXlOROJy3TpJOBBD7PpGwtwdblqPYnh5N3w/s1600/024479_19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5xzYSyYbZVlkcHWdTrh05gk0E3xm5XRH1qUTIINUbmUkUBHK4_i24bO6abTj1FPqK6MinLUJStRXPYf841S1eIP3hYIgaL1ghs2TEZoSdXlOROJy3TpJOBBD7PpGwtwdblqPYnh5N3w/s320/024479_19.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
He came along side the window and I told him I had guns... and bullets... and dead animals... in my truck. Arnold asked for my license, registration and certificate of insurance, all business-like. Then I threw down the trump card. "Hey, do you want to see my 14 pt. buck? He's a Booner" With a wicked grin and a twinkle in his eye, he said, "Sure, hop out. Show me whatchagot." I buttered his bread on both sides, telling him he got me fair and square. The clincher was when I asked him if he wanted to hold the antlers.<br />
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After checking the tags, my new BFF shot me "The Look" (I see it every time I get pulled over and work my magic) and he said, "Just slow 'er down, na."<br />
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AND SO... Stay tuned as I continue to be a <span style="font-size: large;">legend in my own mind</span>.</div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-62960830949274390602011-11-30T23:56:00.000-08:002011-12-09T00:53:24.749-08:00Hammer Time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPaOSFugRW2CTSAma54P2CZWDPhcmO63FDyW7Cov3Qg3a2wAT4BQuFA_bblb-ibn1YRi2tQlRb3DJCjXrJFqTQKLwXuyjApH9UbL_vwqbPUGDF4jxviuUljsygj_60nb2xOR5Wd998980/s1600/189995_183904361653528_114139851963313_394625_3842367_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xVxvWOsJI4w/TtJ_86zmK8I/AAAAAAAADk8/860RBpvfiLA/s1600/IMG_2169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xVxvWOsJI4w/TtJ_86zmK8I/AAAAAAAADk8/860RBpvfiLA/s640/IMG_2169.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>The Dynamic Duo, Adam and Bryce, headed to the Meijer Store for supplies. Antifreeze for my camper and new windshield wipers for the "Sake-Sake" (a little Mitsubishi mini truck) were tops on our shopping list yesterday, before the big storm set in--predicted to be a real doozie. That's generally how all their shenanigans start, just the turn of a key followed by a turbo kicking in. As they were unloading their cart in the parking lot, Bryce noticed an orphaned case of beer in the bottom of an abandoned cart. Miller Light, his favorite.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihMyIJxrb2yP0PkqilQTWa2M2-1qjKk2VMMAMuOVdfdYmmcmzCzOCNQKvIw9l_Z7fPOy2muM7N951j8CJgEVaxiDIOhvFw8CT33lH_MlHBPRMJ0SnT1Nz-JKs4T3vDmW9l0H2bmgNl1Kg/s1600/189995_183904361653528_114139851963313_394625_3842367_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihMyIJxrb2yP0PkqilQTWa2M2-1qjKk2VMMAMuOVdfdYmmcmzCzOCNQKvIw9l_Z7fPOy2muM7N951j8CJgEVaxiDIOhvFw8CT33lH_MlHBPRMJ0SnT1Nz-JKs4T3vDmW9l0H2bmgNl1Kg/s640/189995_183904361653528_114139851963313_394625_3842367_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Thinking that someone forgot their empties, he went over to investigate. A sinister grin spread across Bryce's face when it dawned on him that The Beer Gods were shining down...it was a FULL CASE left behind by some poor, sorry son of a gun. Holy Hangover, Batman! Bryce looked to the left and to the right. He assessed the risks, took a deep breath, and looked for possible witnesses. He weighed his conscience --and the devil won. He shot Adam a crafty look, snagged the booty, and Adam, ever intuitive in all things suspect, swung open the tailgate for the the score...professional partners in crime. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">TO THE BAT CAVE, IT'S HAMMER TIME. <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rShAJrl7e-o/TtcdeKYOLwI/AAAAAAAAEcg/T2RNP_IaEWw/s1600/beer_funny_sticker-p217237949313562279qjcl_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rShAJrl7e-o/TtcdeKYOLwI/AAAAAAAAEcg/T2RNP_IaEWw/s200/beer_funny_sticker-p217237949313562279qjcl_400.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
With such a great day going and luck on their side, Adam shot Bryce "the look". It was time to check out Sake-Sake's 660cc, 4 speed, 4 wheel drive camo capabilites in the deep, snow covered fields. He reasoned that a little drift busting would break her in right. Sake has a ladder rack and fold down sides on the bed. She's a real work horse despite her puny 1/3 ton rating and she is one of the slickest toys we have on the farm. Adam thought the time was right to "pop her cherry." <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NGlH58QG0Xc/TtZzn3-9nqI/AAAAAAAAD_w/Lezd1lIjtBg/s1600/IMG_2411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NGlH58QG0Xc/TtZzn3-9nqI/AAAAAAAAD_w/Lezd1lIjtBg/s640/IMG_2411.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6q0-07Dodf0/TtJ__1us5kI/AAAAAAAADlE/ppsRAK0gP78/s1600/IMG_2174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6q0-07Dodf0/TtJ__1us5kI/AAAAAAAADlE/ppsRAK0gP78/s640/IMG_2174.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>A virgin field was selected as a prime testing ground--where all the maneuvers and (hopefully) aerial acrobatic feats that are borne from power shifting, speed, neutral drops, and testosterone could be explored. The snow had to be deep, the terrain had to offer opportunities to "catch air" and a deep water hole were basic needs. This spot was "Golden". Now the bets were placed.<br />
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Beating (I mean driving) new toys is a given around here. Sake-Sake's steering wheel is opposite American vehicles. You sit on the "passenger" side yet still shift in the middle, using your opposite hand. Adam put the pedal to the medal and ripped down the road to the chosen field. He rounded a corner on two wheels just in time to see a Mundy Township cop sitting at the end of the road, slurping on a cold latte and downing the last of a pink donut. After crapping themselves, our Dynamic Duo regained their composure and parked at the end of a road, pretending to be hunters. They got out of the truck and walked into the woods and "hid" until early signs of hypothermia began to set in. Thankfully, the officer left after a little bit so the real games could begin! Another bullet dodged.<br />
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Five minutes behind the wheel, and Adam had "the truck you can't get stuck" buried up the axles. He rocked it back and forth, cussed it out, blamed Bryce, until it finally dawned on him that Sake-Sake was da winna. Not expecting this, and wearing only light clothing to go grocery shopping in, they both had to jump ship and walk back to the farm through the wet snow, in street shoes, to grab a tractor and a bunch of chains. They would show her who's boss. Little Sake came out easy, but not before both guys froze their petooties off.<br />
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</div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-85507020826864695112011-11-27T12:38:00.000-08:002011-12-08T10:40:00.510-08:00Let's Dish<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QXnAmXVS3F8/TtJhQaE1cpI/AAAAAAAADbE/3wtopatqmQI/s1600/IMG_1854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QXnAmXVS3F8/TtJhQaE1cpI/AAAAAAAADbE/3wtopatqmQI/s320/IMG_1854.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4twD16SS0lc/TtJgge3uo4I/AAAAAAAADZ8/NJ5BD-kBW3U/s1600/IMG_1804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4twD16SS0lc/TtJgge3uo4I/AAAAAAAADZ8/NJ5BD-kBW3U/s320/IMG_1804.JPG" width="320" /></a>Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year. No presents--just family, food and gratitude. A winning combination.<br />
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A set of new dishes makes everything taste better. That's the excuse I allowed myself for the "green light" to the cash register. I had them stacked at the counter before I had time to change my mind. Perfect. <br />
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Lots of things have to happen before the turkey is ever violated and stuffed into the oven; important things (like getting my hair done). I had my head in the bowl as the stylist was washing and working her magic on me when a guy, half my age, sat down in the next chair. He began asking his stylist, the expert, what Thanksgiving was all about anyway. He thought it had something to do with the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria. She was pretty sure that was close but that Indians were somehow involved.<br />
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After trying not to listen to the bantering and the outrageous guessing, I sprang into action. Bolting upright, with shampoo suds running down my face and clothes, I put the karate chop on both of them as I glared and spat, "I can't take it anymore. Here's what Thanksgiving is all about." I mentioned Plymouth Rock, the Mayflower, pilgrims and their escape from religious persecution, Jamestown, starvation and death in the colony, harvest, God, Indians, and added tidbits about crops, cultivating, and the foods that would have been served. "Oh," said the guy not taking any personal responsibility, "you must have gone to Powers. I went to Grand Blanc." "No," I corrected, as I shot him the skunk eye, "I went through the Chicago Public School System in the 1970's and paid attention."<br />
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<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Think happy thoughts.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Back to the dishes and the decorating. </span></span><br />
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</div>John, our oldest son who resides in the Big Apple, is turning 30 years old next month and I took the opportunity, with the whole family present, to sneak in a birthday cake<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and a boisterous round of </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Sto Lat" <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYTK9im4dyc">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYTK9im4dyc</a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zfmHhjaOtLE/TtJoiEJeJ6I/AAAAAAAADd0/jUWspNeRRDg/s640/IMG_1929.JPG" width="426" /> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">THE BIRTHDAY CAKE</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">What goes into a birthday cake?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sift and stir, and beat and bake</div><div style="text-align: center;">A cake that must be grand and fine</div><div style="text-align: center;">For a great big boy of nearly nine!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">"What will he be when he grows up?"</div><div style="text-align: center;">High hopes are raised on the rolling board!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Fond, foolish memories that mothers hoard,</div><div style="text-align: center;">And love too full for a measuring cup!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Quick fear for the hurts the future holds,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Fierce anger, too, for the men of might</div><div style="text-align: center;">Who leave a world of pain and fright</div><div style="text-align: center;">As a heritage for nine-year-olds!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">What goes into a birthday cake?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sugar and salt, and smiles and tears,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Butter and eggs, and hopes and fears.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sift and stir, and beat and bake;</div><div style="text-align: center;">That's what goes into a birthday cake!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">~Victoria Chase</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-39420014868447633602011-11-19T09:32:00.000-08:002011-11-27T18:14:25.167-08:00The Pig Whisperer<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNtK7p_LLN2ZG_v84un5Up2aq8Dqciy7vv-W7729g6X0wZdti30oJgz7oAB9eHIwSegqr5n9FLX8WJqpP13_XYHelVPSJjhyphenhyphenPiHNpQFG2tmc5kdsg_HH4YY7JKdBCQlwjJvEjxZJqFyak/s1600/Three-pet-Piglets-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNtK7p_LLN2ZG_v84un5Up2aq8Dqciy7vv-W7729g6X0wZdti30oJgz7oAB9eHIwSegqr5n9FLX8WJqpP13_XYHelVPSJjhyphenhyphenPiHNpQFG2tmc5kdsg_HH4YY7JKdBCQlwjJvEjxZJqFyak/s320/Three-pet-Piglets-2.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>A city child came running into the farm house. "No wonder that momma pig is so big! There's a bunch of little pigs under her, blowing her up."<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Bacon calls to me. It can wake me up from a sound sleep if I smell it. Bacon goes on, with, or next to every edible thing on the planet and it should be classified as its own food group. Cooking it was a challenge until I realized that frying it up in strips is so "Old School." </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Here's my Pig Whispering Frying Method: </span></span><br />
<ul style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><li> (1) Use scissors to cut the slab into 1-1/2" sections. </li>
<li>(2) Separate the sections in a frying pan, pop on a lid, and sizzle using medium heat.</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lqip_pELyGc/TsfVzMofciI/AAAAAAAADV8/OW96wxq_45k/s1600/bac1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lqip_pELyGc/TsfVzMofciI/AAAAAAAADV8/OW96wxq_45k/s1600/bac1.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GeZvscD5KhI/TsfWJzCSGVI/AAAAAAAADWc/IWgIgkYI4nU/s1600/bac8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GeZvscD5KhI/TsfWJzCSGVI/AAAAAAAADWc/IWgIgkYI4nU/s200/bac8.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lqip_pELyGc/TsfVzMofciI/AAAAAAAADV8/OW96wxq_45k/s1600/bac1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZF6aMb7NQBs/TsfV-nrr95I/AAAAAAAADWM/SWRZFUpW-Ks/s1600/bac6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a> </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GeZvscD5KhI/TsfWJzCSGVI/AAAAAAAADWc/IWgIgkYI4nU/s1600/bac8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GeZvscD5KhI/TsfWJzCSGVI/AAAAAAAADWc/IWgIgkYI4nU/s1600/bac8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GeZvscD5KhI/TsfWJzCSGVI/AAAAAAAADWc/IWgIgkYI4nU/s1600/bac8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GeZvscD5KhI/TsfWJzCSGVI/AAAAAAAADWc/IWgIgkYI4nU/s1600/bac8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GeZvscD5KhI/TsfWJzCSGVI/AAAAAAAADWc/IWgIgkYI4nU/s1600/bac8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GeZvscD5KhI/TsfWJzCSGVI/AAAAAAAADWc/IWgIgkYI4nU/s1600/bac8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GeZvscD5KhI/TsfWJzCSGVI/AAAAAAAADWc/IWgIgkYI4nU/s1600/bac8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GeZvscD5KhI/TsfWJzCSGVI/AAAAAAAADWc/IWgIgkYI4nU/s1600/bac8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GeZvscD5KhI/TsfWJzCSGVI/AAAAAAAADWc/IWgIgkYI4nU/s1600/bac8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GeZvscD5KhI/TsfWJzCSGVI/AAAAAAAADWc/IWgIgkYI4nU/s1600/bac8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GeZvscD5KhI/TsfWJzCSGVI/AAAAAAAADWc/IWgIgkYI4nU/s1600/bac8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div><ul style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lqip_pELyGc/TsfVzMofciI/AAAAAAAADV8/OW96wxq_45k/s1600/bac1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a>
<li> (3) Stir every so often.</li>
<li> (4) Inhale deeply and let the aroma transport you to heaven and back.</li>
<li>(5) Do not drain. Watch and let it spark and pop in its own juices until a rich, deep crispy color is achieved. </li>
<li>(6) Place finished pieces on a platter that is lined with a paper towel. Enjoy! </li>
</ul>I use the leftovers (yeah, right) in salads and on sandwiches the next day. Sometimes, I get smart and cook up two packages at a time just so I have leftovers for the week.<br />
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How does a pig write home? With a pig pen. Why did the pig go to the casino? To play the slop machines. What do you call a pig with three eyes? A piiig. Did you hear about the pig who starting hiding her food in November? She wanted to do her Christmas slopping early. How did the pig beat the cow at Monopoly? He built hotels on Pork Place. Is it true that a barrel of pigs went over Niagra Falls? No, that's just a bunch of hogwash!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyvUvpCn3HDXxSR8cBvhhbvavkfFNeVTghSvxPc7fQ5yg76NLheRkGCqtPLBIUowspPDX55yPo3ytgVpTkEDQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-39660767662653746332011-11-18T20:55:00.000-08:002011-12-20T23:11:10.996-08:00Color Me Fall<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>14 Point Boone & Crockett Buck Harvest Dec 4, 2011<br />
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In Coon Rapids, Iowa on the Macke Ranch<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMU3Bteg_7LYHri3m4k86J_SQV48eJk2-UsEC0NsbRthbYN6ockwKws0AyfPMC7jusnz2sEKnK3hXxsaA-indPT31KQSWZv_vvCDO04Ddy-jeb6dX8M8tYlkzH7mTGoujMBu4C_K-TNyo/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMU3Bteg_7LYHri3m4k86J_SQV48eJk2-UsEC0NsbRthbYN6ockwKws0AyfPMC7jusnz2sEKnK3hXxsaA-indPT31KQSWZv_vvCDO04Ddy-jeb6dX8M8tYlkzH7mTGoujMBu4C_K-TNyo/s640/photo.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>An 11 year old named Tanner found this buck's antler shed from the year before<br />
and gave it to John as a gift. It really meant a lot to him. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikuOHZ3Agycpdy_FeIPpk17QfXTbQSs9BsvyFaUuGj0nGb20S1kj5R2zorQYHQYT-C8kGjdhZMqwKm-NI9UrrsBsbm1-sQfc25vxO5AetX76s0zJHmf01z9-mZlcrNB8gbVXEbbTSN4zs/s1600/IMG_1060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikuOHZ3Agycpdy_FeIPpk17QfXTbQSs9BsvyFaUuGj0nGb20S1kj5R2zorQYHQYT-C8kGjdhZMqwKm-NI9UrrsBsbm1-sQfc25vxO5AetX76s0zJHmf01z9-mZlcrNB8gbVXEbbTSN4zs/s400/IMG_1060.JPG" width="400" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here is the Iowa buck's horns next to the horns of the biggest deer John</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">has previously harvested. Night and Day!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I love everything about this picture below. It might be in my top 10.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcEcecAeXGi3wILPKQegQYQ20G_mhFrpY3TBxW5A01SNQ8ZPBXvErkc5NF9A2S24yLqYuWlIsKzjrDUdtDLLW7JQ8RXo83OyMzuPFoxOOnoQ0V0jRuK9HL9HBDmMSfcRlIEhm51_nYPc0/s1600/790-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcEcecAeXGi3wILPKQegQYQ20G_mhFrpY3TBxW5A01SNQ8ZPBXvErkc5NF9A2S24yLqYuWlIsKzjrDUdtDLLW7JQ8RXo83OyMzuPFoxOOnoQ0V0jRuK9HL9HBDmMSfcRlIEhm51_nYPc0/s640/790-2.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6pm0FkQMXNGwAoFxNBBAxFxRq8sDuFwyZ3q63AEK94Z-HLiV8QMdGZ7rpZ8iepXQZ3Ch0CgTEL5_NUv7U5xna0z8VW7h8wBqR7nl3SAludsfG1Tqy1WON37WKvQQDQKsBtdk3qu3xZ54/s1600/Recently+Updated3.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6pm0FkQMXNGwAoFxNBBAxFxRq8sDuFwyZ3q63AEK94Z-HLiV8QMdGZ7rpZ8iepXQZ3Ch0CgTEL5_NUv7U5xna0z8VW7h8wBqR7nl3SAludsfG1Tqy1WON37WKvQQDQKsBtdk3qu3xZ54/s640/Recently+Updated3.jpg" width="640" /></a> </div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5bJ_rzBA0qfkBNah8Vd5OoaWrvNaiXAi8HyjK1QAsKpXpprOimsR5oh2W3JV3tbXMwhkldgF0AyPR3oJDfwgXCxbf6GOwmCfI8_je1npEUYUPk90e5G43ONyM7hIB_mXHhZrzmAvknhU/s1600/2011-11-07+June+20111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="574" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5bJ_rzBA0qfkBNah8Vd5OoaWrvNaiXAi8HyjK1QAsKpXpprOimsR5oh2W3JV3tbXMwhkldgF0AyPR3oJDfwgXCxbf6GOwmCfI8_je1npEUYUPk90e5G43ONyM7hIB_mXHhZrzmAvknhU/s640/2011-11-07+June+20111.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkzBWJ3ZIIf5VBfzlPNr0eAObRZW2LyfNSux-vJpFmtiEKr_tXTWcfmhfNasiD-VHZkxEmqrhEB37Pw9kkTtV2151jKPWr04Kzx4YrN_4cP4bWkPV7GPrTEgTrFmxv5pj-QtMtuO2VjQs/s1600/2011-11-19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkzBWJ3ZIIf5VBfzlPNr0eAObRZW2LyfNSux-vJpFmtiEKr_tXTWcfmhfNasiD-VHZkxEmqrhEB37Pw9kkTtV2151jKPWr04Kzx4YrN_4cP4bWkPV7GPrTEgTrFmxv5pj-QtMtuO2VjQs/s640/2011-11-19.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH2ZaNRJe2T8p2t_sKVBdBzblISztjwZs8DAbgd1hLoTtqRC8ntVtgAElsELFDXm9sjuMAuLhYSUcvGW2_3Q2MGSSUP9bpEkc5E1-Tj0MElO46C9DitY8uZHlu8XgLwvNskXaS0fPSSKw/s1600/2011-11-07+June+2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH2ZaNRJe2T8p2t_sKVBdBzblISztjwZs8DAbgd1hLoTtqRC8ntVtgAElsELFDXm9sjuMAuLhYSUcvGW2_3Q2MGSSUP9bpEkc5E1-Tj0MElO46C9DitY8uZHlu8XgLwvNskXaS0fPSSKw/s640/2011-11-07+June+2011.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj84nZ6l9urOHURLQGSrs4xcgGhYo2_aGlxwohLhXVNm_3r-0CBCxbQ_h8kJffyffqwCNw93cViU8JG6E-YpY91NwUughpyiHrfsqkg_aM6w5v9WihvfliAW1P3pF9z_zPUiAgdgXS571M/s1600/aaa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj84nZ6l9urOHURLQGSrs4xcgGhYo2_aGlxwohLhXVNm_3r-0CBCxbQ_h8kJffyffqwCNw93cViU8JG6E-YpY91NwUughpyiHrfsqkg_aM6w5v9WihvfliAW1P3pF9z_zPUiAgdgXS571M/s640/aaa.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 50% transparent; border: 0px none; padding: 0px;" /></a></div></div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-45585387300116887222011-11-18T12:57:00.000-08:002011-11-18T21:09:04.124-08:00"INSTANDITY"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7PE41fhRcqG03mQwhn5dm1yK5K6itMVVEw9D-xoD-lH0HOod-13ztxbUUXM8dZ545n06ncgvVk0g0AZWnHSwSHRpzqYM9yoZuL1NtASesti91GyPbyqPoV7g58r99dxDrDhOuztSNV0o/s1600/groundblind_deer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7PE41fhRcqG03mQwhn5dm1yK5K6itMVVEw9D-xoD-lH0HOod-13ztxbUUXM8dZ545n06ncgvVk0g0AZWnHSwSHRpzqYM9yoZuL1NtASesti91GyPbyqPoV7g58r99dxDrDhOuztSNV0o/s640/groundblind_deer.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Gl9LzumUI998WOoKtLq7ltNWDo53Y0WVvzxRSVW9mxUClFjrm0I-qhK30KhYsD-I6ahAJPHBbsO9YMtPZ-ZQTEaUKDHEZpYMKkJyRW-c8FGgvK85VgWX6Hl-gMwt0Rs51ScImVA5g8o/s1600/deer+camp+coffee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Gl9LzumUI998WOoKtLq7ltNWDo53Y0WVvzxRSVW9mxUClFjrm0I-qhK30KhYsD-I6ahAJPHBbsO9YMtPZ-ZQTEaUKDHEZpYMKkJyRW-c8FGgvK85VgWX6Hl-gMwt0Rs51ScImVA5g8o/s640/deer+camp+coffee.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>At 5 a.m. on November 15, Two Thousand Every Year, I am whipping up a deluxe breakfast for all the big swamp buck hunters on our farm. Day One: Eggs sunny side up, grilled sausage patties, buttered toast with cinnamon pear jam, and a fruit and yogurt parfait topped with granola. Day Two: Maple syrup covered waffles, sizzling bacon, english muffins and a pineapple chunk kicker.<br />
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Gramps is doing the coffee pot shuffle as he fills the thermos bottles, John sticks his head outside, consults his I-phone weather app, does the old lick your finger trick to verify the wind direction and speed so that he can then delegate hunters to a good spot. If memory serves me right, he has 32 blinds and tree stands on our property. Last I checked, that's 8 per man.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVovmzDyyitpPhIndE8c0kUHhR5I1EQDyxDwbTIf53iv6ElLnTE270woGg7ibrTeKRdiyO7Nt89hklOGZBhrrPu-MlFxpN7L_R2M-HWTBDLILvapPOFvij9vNjuHRbgQFBeDYQobYtCXg/s1600/Deer+Essentials.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVovmzDyyitpPhIndE8c0kUHhR5I1EQDyxDwbTIf53iv6ElLnTE270woGg7ibrTeKRdiyO7Nt89hklOGZBhrrPu-MlFxpN7L_R2M-HWTBDLILvapPOFvij9vNjuHRbgQFBeDYQobYtCXg/s640/Deer+Essentials.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
DEER CAMP VIRTUAL SHOPPING CART:<br />
<ul><li>Tinks #69 Doe-In-Rut Buck Lure</li>
<li>Code Red Buck Urine</li>
<li>Tactical Bacon</li>
<li>Hot Buck Scent</li>
<li>Scent Blocker Spray Set</li>
<li>52 StealthWildlife Cameras </li>
<li>Rattling Antlers, Deer Calls, Laser Head Lamp</li>
<li>Couple Jars Doe Estrus</li>
<li>Dead Down Wind Spray</li>
<li>Charcoal Suit, Sprays are just a start.</li>
</ul>AND MY PERSONAL FAVORITE: The Butt Out Tool.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY6RzjdQ1Ix1hoF_APk0gQ0AH4yWxQ7U3O2ieCP0jHMEmrzts6zGtxgD5YTsmH0Z7iDp7MILC4UsVRCMRU2N2NMjvoWn-3ObLANhyJ3Gs6UBuoof3Gwiv7641tG1qvnhstUQ2JiYN7I0o/s1600/Parno2_Butt_Out.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="528" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY6RzjdQ1Ix1hoF_APk0gQ0AH4yWxQ7U3O2ieCP0jHMEmrzts6zGtxgD5YTsmH0Z7iDp7MILC4UsVRCMRU2N2NMjvoWn-3ObLANhyJ3Gs6UBuoof3Gwiv7641tG1qvnhstUQ2JiYN7I0o/s640/Parno2_Butt_Out.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Really? Is THAT necessary? <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq88bxJ4-2HS7okCnGH6bTMtaCpDl_CAHyoDzY1N7coHLFkDhJe6IJTS95kd3c5Jgsj2_rn5B8pdVCqmvSVnRruQxYfs_1IVQn97AtA3rBr6s85axof6wXJFmWb5xKI5Vvbe7qV6DwajQ/s1600/preview.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq88bxJ4-2HS7okCnGH6bTMtaCpDl_CAHyoDzY1N7coHLFkDhJe6IJTS95kd3c5Jgsj2_rn5B8pdVCqmvSVnRruQxYfs_1IVQn97AtA3rBr6s85axof6wXJFmWb5xKI5Vvbe7qV6DwajQ/s640/preview.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
As the guys let the 'ol coffee work on their systems and get dressed, I get all the bag lunches ready. Now here's where I have a little fun with 'em. Each day I put something in there like hard boiled eggs, broccoli with dip, three bean salad, cauliflower, etc. By day three, I make sure to put extra napkins in their sacks too. Each lunch has a meaty sandwich, some jalapeno cheese, cashews, granola and candy bars, maybe some chips and jerky bites. John texted me from his blind yesterday asking me where the almonds were in his Hershey Bar. I texted back that he should be looking for deer instead of looking for his nuts.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOB7-WbomCXalttUo-UAJIOPI0i0VC7viA71ls2dXEHouXeOuwN5NMX0EyAJjrLkZdnKUef8qqzedHO0fVUuqavRV2DwrVE22JZ1dFXLBfYiHb7SQbJxa1m70_wL0kjVG8sdHekIaYgyU/s1600/843.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="433" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOB7-WbomCXalttUo-UAJIOPI0i0VC7viA71ls2dXEHouXeOuwN5NMX0EyAJjrLkZdnKUef8qqzedHO0fVUuqavRV2DwrVE22JZ1dFXLBfYiHb7SQbJxa1m70_wL0kjVG8sdHekIaYgyU/s640/843.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqHmZPpXdnl_cPotdt-eV3SD1TD3jysfywr_KsTKrJW2vL7I7EDD6cwMvgefYaJApMkWmnPgfkFibXk41ykAgLediV1hzHERBc4aRJZrxv8wBRbC_H4FUqqPRG2Ijg8yLhH9-i08ox8ug/s1600/Father+Son+Turkey+Hunt+2011+046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqHmZPpXdnl_cPotdt-eV3SD1TD3jysfywr_KsTKrJW2vL7I7EDD6cwMvgefYaJApMkWmnPgfkFibXk41ykAgLediV1hzHERBc4aRJZrxv8wBRbC_H4FUqqPRG2Ijg8yLhH9-i08ox8ug/s400/Father+Son+Turkey+Hunt+2011+046.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Adam makes his way out to "his spot". It became his spot when he was 14 years old. John put the boys far away from him because he thought they would make a lot of noise and wreck his hunting. Turns out Adam's spot has produced some real monster bucks on our farm so now Dad has to ask Adam's permission to hunt there. So far, though, we haven't bagged anything this year, despite all that lovin' from my oven. <br />
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Am I the only person who notices that all the shows on the Outdoor Channel are nothing short of obnoxious infomercials? John keeps the TV remote flicking between football, Fox News, and the Outdoor Channel.<br />
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This gives me plenty of time to work up some stuff cabbage rolls or kielbasa for dinner. My only hope is that it hits him like a freight train at half-time so I can watch Dancing With The Stars.<br />
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Some of the bucks harvested on our farm.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipG4i-1zzF8csqQdRmeTSIkqbproGjHbG42BMBa53YcicHeW16B2xXaU7gQuv7jto8DVN8Elm9kV_hXFpJxb2bDDkWx3jTQoltmT-V-WHTzDIWRc4iNyi1rHjWIDHsotXdYKm5Al5qj9w/s1600/tr47.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipG4i-1zzF8csqQdRmeTSIkqbproGjHbG42BMBa53YcicHeW16B2xXaU7gQuv7jto8DVN8Elm9kV_hXFpJxb2bDDkWx3jTQoltmT-V-WHTzDIWRc4iNyi1rHjWIDHsotXdYKm5Al5qj9w/s400/tr47.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-63421050495309123752011-11-14T13:32:00.000-08:002011-11-19T09:43:00.132-08:00Veteran's Day Celebrated in a Unique Way<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JzY2z1EAqes/TsE0yEUQNQI/AAAAAAAACtg/2n2PsT_w-JI/s1600/IMG_1524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JzY2z1EAqes/TsE0yEUQNQI/AAAAAAAACtg/2n2PsT_w-JI/s320/IMG_1524.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
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Veteran's Day is a sacred day to me. I cherish my freedoms and recognize that they came by way of suffering, bloodshed, and loss beginning with the Revolutionary War. When I heard there was a proper flag burning ceremony to retire or dispose of worn United States flags in a National Park in Kentucky, I went to pay my respects to Old Glory and shake the hands of the men and women who have served our country.<br />
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The Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, ROTC, Army Reserves, and U.S. Park Rangers were present to retire the flags, cut them properly, and dispose of them by fire. All the Veterans in the community were asked to come forward and we said the Pledge of Allegiance. Some of the older Scouts read stories about famous flags and gave some history.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N76GfP8ssrc/TsE06yOSp7I/AAAAAAAACuI/fPyzk0LBU9Y/s1600/IMG_1538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N76GfP8ssrc/TsE06yOSp7I/AAAAAAAACuI/fPyzk0LBU9Y/s320/IMG_1538.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>There were many people in the community who had a son, daughter, brother, sister, mom or dad serving in the Middle East. We shared hugs and true American spirit.<br />
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We watched as the flag's stripes were separated from her field of blue. Each section was burned separately and saluted.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ar-iGsHPuJA/TsE1OVComBI/AAAAAAAACvY/RLFRMW2UFbg/s1600/IMG_1575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ar-iGsHPuJA/TsE1OVComBI/AAAAAAAACvY/RLFRMW2UFbg/s320/IMG_1575.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q2BB4tlr078/TsE1VEseVJI/AAAAAAAACvw/KdUFmprQM64/s1600/IMG_1590.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q2BB4tlr078/TsE1VEseVJI/AAAAAAAACvw/KdUFmprQM64/s320/IMG_1590.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The event ended with everyone singing the National Anthem while a fresh, new flag was hoisted up to reign over this great land.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4NGubjEeA5I/TsGAZuxXSaI/AAAAAAAADGU/Ix13swBVCzU/s1600/memorial-home-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4NGubjEeA5I/TsGAZuxXSaI/AAAAAAAADGU/Ix13swBVCzU/s1600/memorial-home-2.jpg" /></a></div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-64677650970557326832011-11-14T00:59:00.000-08:002011-11-27T18:10:01.701-08:00The Chicken Came First<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidag7f3wRg8Ycn-LreK_lHoD3rSWoOUOdpbYiRTOL3am523znVtIqEbdl9CVjd9_Z5Xt7mRNlx3whjuqNWIn31-1IfvFxcUUgwu4XXcjRyA5jB8pVgb06sqLH51Ia6Hs4gMxaE1qGFKdk/s1600/Cumberland+Falls+KY+1111.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidag7f3wRg8Ycn-LreK_lHoD3rSWoOUOdpbYiRTOL3am523znVtIqEbdl9CVjd9_Z5Xt7mRNlx3whjuqNWIn31-1IfvFxcUUgwu4XXcjRyA5jB8pVgb06sqLH51Ia6Hs4gMxaE1qGFKdk/s320/Cumberland+Falls+KY+1111.jpg" style="clear: both; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></a> <br />
just ask anyone from K e n t u c k y. <br />
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I was rolling south on I-75, chasing fall colors and hoping for good camping weather, when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small sign that read: Sander's Cafe and Museum. It took me a minute, but I put two and two together (I was in Kentucky<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggntVUL-XHCZ_oVU9ARWLVf1XMXwOTTAhBhppVj__-zQD0Pygo6dzwXO5s9jYV_HpKqRTsjWjZ0cCKDumtvgUBFG6Sb7KVuXEEGQWqlNgVfRa6bzeIBZBIAQ-MyXGi2tMDqJF1b9ePZ8E/s1600/IMG_0876.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggntVUL-XHCZ_oVU9ARWLVf1XMXwOTTAhBhppVj__-zQD0Pygo6dzwXO5s9jYV_HpKqRTsjWjZ0cCKDumtvgUBFG6Sb7KVuXEEGQWqlNgVfRa6bzeIBZBIAQ-MyXGi2tMDqJF1b9ePZ8E/s320/IMG_0876.JPG" style="clear: both; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></a> and there's only one famous Sanders) so I dove over two lanes to the exit ramp to have myself a little look-see.<br />
<br />
Yep.<br />
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I stumbled upon the birthplace of KFC. This is one of the neat little benefits of <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAXi6az5vaVPHRMm4ChJRF4TZ-woQlx8lRtNGZXCKPZOF7Zr-oerVcQvFYcaJ5SA-lRCK7swfPosQeLYfNgMYIhcjMc7bzc_4qmvSFKY587aYLpkl2UYWUV6_AaNzwkF-ZJlzi_QDtJVM/s1600/IMG_0878.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAXi6az5vaVPHRMm4ChJRF4TZ-woQlx8lRtNGZXCKPZOF7Zr-oerVcQvFYcaJ5SA-lRCK7swfPosQeLYfNgMYIhcjMc7bzc_4qmvSFKY587aYLpkl2UYWUV6_AaNzwkF-ZJlzi_QDtJVM/s320/IMG_0878.JPG" style="clear: both; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></a> hitting the open road with no particular place to go and no rush to get there. It made me proud to think that I arrived at Chicken Central, towing my own Hen House. That's the nickname stickered on the back of my little 16' camper.<br />
<br />
<br />
My final destination was the Cumberland Falls near the historic Cumberland Gap (where Daniel Boone blazed a trail in 1775 so that pioneers could make their way through the mountains to settle the west). Remi and I spent a week hiking, sharing hot dogs by the fire, and taking pictures of area waterfalls.<br />
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That first night I had a hard time falling asleep because PTS flashbacks of Kentucky front porches leaped out and jerked me awake. I think these mobile homes were the inspiration for the television show "Hoarders." Folks in these parts do not throw anything out. If I'm lyin', I'm dying. I kid you not. They pack it and stack it until it leaks, rolls, or bulges its way out through the front door, into the light of day, on display as a twisted sort of status symbol.<br />
<br />
There were the usual offenders: old washing machines, broken wooden chairs (always room for company) and a ripped up bench seat from a 1978 Ford pick up truck. You might see an old gas stove piled high with clay pots, canning jars, and knick knacks. Most front porches spill over on to the front lawns. Scattered from lot line to lot line is every size and shape of rusted, twisted metal: oil cans, bird cages, signs, rakes, and miscellaneous auto parts. There's usually a dog or two on a chain and a couple of rabbit pens. <br />
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The most disturbing part is that I noticed so many immaculate, 8' giant satellite dishes --mounted on titanium, tornado proof tri-pods. Mother nature can take the home, that's what makes 'em mobile, but a line is clearly drawn at missing a Jerry Springer episode.<br />
<br />
What I like best about folks in the south is that they can laugh at themselves. They know they are different and like to celebrate it. It's a laid back, friendly, forgiving lifestyle. So bring on the biscuits and gravy...<br />
<br />
THE KFC BISCUIT RECIPE (Preheat oven to 425, spray baking sheet w/Pam)<br />
<br />
1- 1/2 cup flour, 1- 1/2 tsp salt, 1 tbl. sugar, 1 tbl. baking powder, 2/3 cup milk, 1/3 cup vegetable shortening (like Crisco solid)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzhg1HR6Auce2IErumiH0wGCfm0dExEtvBf-yZP2Ck9b8JFpdfBFZ-kYL6FGjX8HZtf3S5C-pZpiuw46GPrEe4q3QfdfDxr7fdDGGLYf9YekgqPMk__FiOXJ5BtdLmP4n8JBhMkjeePIY/s1600/IMG_0869.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzhg1HR6Auce2IErumiH0wGCfm0dExEtvBf-yZP2Ck9b8JFpdfBFZ-kYL6FGjX8HZtf3S5C-pZpiuw46GPrEe4q3QfdfDxr7fdDGGLYf9YekgqPMk__FiOXJ5BtdLmP4n8JBhMkjeePIY/s320/IMG_0869.JPG" style="clear: both; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></a>Mix dry ingredients. Add Milk, Stir. Add Shortening. (Two Options from this point forward) (1) KFC Way--turn onto floured surface and knead gently for 6-8 minutes. Pat to 1/2" thick. Cut into biscuits. Bake 9-13 minutes, Makes 9. OR (2) Drop Biscuit way--drop by heaping tbl. onto (greased) baking sheet. Press a little flat with fingers and bake 8-12 minutes. Makes 18.<br />
<br />
THE KFC CHICKEN COATING RECIPE (Preheat oven to 350, bake 1 hour)<br />
<br />
3 cups Bisquick or Jiffy Baking Mix, 1 Tbl. Paprika, 2 envelopes EACH of Lipton Tomato Cup-A-Soup (dry) and Good Seasons Italian Dressing (dry), 1 Tsp Seasoned Salt. <br />
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Place ingredients in a plastic ziploc bag and then "Shake and Bake".<br />
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<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 50% transparent; border: 0px none; padding: 0px;" /></a></div></div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362292872857449191.post-26349556786782972392011-11-05T20:33:00.000-07:002011-11-06T01:46:36.747-07:00Big Nasty and The Turd<div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q7KvjAyDsS0/TrX3k6F6BnI/AAAAAAAACoo/XLDkY2yVSeA/s1600/IMG_0257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q7KvjAyDsS0/TrX3k6F6BnI/AAAAAAAACoo/XLDkY2yVSeA/s320/IMG_0257.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f3wFRBC93vA/TrX3hgQ7XcI/AAAAAAAACoQ/ae8pl1PS5bQ/s1600/IMG_0232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f3wFRBC93vA/TrX3hgQ7XcI/AAAAAAAACoQ/ae8pl1PS5bQ/s320/IMG_0232.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duG-oEzrjKM/TrX3gioXAXI/AAAAAAAACoM/Z9ou22regxY/s1600/IMG_0228.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duG-oEzrjKM/TrX3gioXAXI/AAAAAAAACoM/Z9ou22regxY/s320/IMG_0228.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K1iGtgNOXo8/TrX3isntGPI/AAAAAAAACoY/iwNhWEtCOEE/s1600/IMG_0236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K1iGtgNOXo8/TrX3isntGPI/AAAAAAAACoY/iwNhWEtCOEE/s320/IMG_0236.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">(Unfortunately) we like to name our vehicles on the farm. Big Nasty is the stuff road trips are made of. She’s sporting lots of chrome and someone has “Bedazzled” her dash. BN is a Peterbilt 379 EXHD 18-speed fuller with Georgia overdrive, complete with a sweet set of chicken lights on the front bumper. Last week she was hauling boats from New York to Florida and this week she’s all ours. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Adam and I blew out of Flint on Thursday morning, running and gunning for the Jersey Shore. (Slow it down now, Momma) We made 700 miles in 12 hours with a couple of pit stops. BTW… these people on the east coast need to take a Motor City driving class. Despite several of their attempts to cause great bodily harm to us, the crash bar on my Ford Taurus sounded off just once, thanks to my superior driving skills. After this experience, Adam and I made an executive decision to get a custom made image placed on the Ford’s rear window shade screen. This screen moves up and down with the push of a button so we decided to leave it down until someone deserves to receive a message.</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The truck yard where Big Nasty was parked was near Manhattan so, as luck would have it, we got a two-for-one on this trip. My oldest son, John, (Adam’s bro) has a NY apartment close by so we bunked down with him on Thursday night after a pizza treat and some small talk. I brought John the perfect gift…two drinking glasses that said “Little Joe’s, Grand Blanc, MI” on them and some fresh baked cookies. Ok, I wanted to bring fresh baked cookies, but I didn’t have time to bake so I bought them and made them look fresh baked. There, I feel better. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We said our goodbyes on Friday morning and met up with the seller, Frank, from Cuba, who speaks just like Al Pacino in Scarface. Our big adventure just got better. Oh-Em-Gee! Big Nasty was owned by a guy who “would cut ‘em up real nice for a Green Card.” He started her 550 Cat Diesel engine and a plume of grey smoke roared out of the dual straight stacks as the engine loped. Her sound did not disappoint. After a quick tutorial and a thorough inspection, it was time to test drive her up to the pumps. “Tony Montana” was happy with himself because she only had about 50 gallons in her when we arrived at the gas station. 700 gallons later, we were westbound and down, bobtailing across state lines.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CpU1FBomGaQ/TrX3jDKUPEI/AAAAAAAACoc/bXodo9sHirY/s1600/IMG_0241.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CpU1FBomGaQ/TrX3jDKUPEI/AAAAAAAACoc/bXodo9sHirY/s320/IMG_0241.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IA7YEu6tS9E/TrX3kfMLPoI/AAAAAAAACok/wH-9Gj_MIlU/s1600/IMG_0245.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IA7YEu6tS9E/TrX3kfMLPoI/AAAAAAAACok/wH-9Gj_MIlU/s320/IMG_0245.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jm7_Nqc6S4E/TrX3fACXpNI/AAAAAAAACoA/9xkzwiA9_6M/s1600/IMG_0214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jm7_Nqc6S4E/TrX3fACXpNI/AAAAAAAACoA/9xkzwiA9_6M/s320/IMG_0214.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HqA_4pguIe8/TrX3dqmT5RI/AAAAAAAACn0/dCmtJIWSPyQ/s1600/IMG_0189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HqA_4pguIe8/TrX3dqmT5RI/AAAAAAAACn0/dCmtJIWSPyQ/s320/IMG_0189.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UVGDpuf24Is/TrX3foB9P9I/AAAAAAAACoE/ewObLgyvV1s/s1600/IMG_0224.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UVGDpuf24Is/TrX3foB9P9I/AAAAAAAACoE/ewObLgyvV1s/s320/IMG_0224.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Af612XF9Nr4/TrX3dJisZQI/AAAAAAAACnw/RnQf3uCQ_1o/s1600/IMG_0185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Af612XF9Nr4/TrX3dJisZQI/AAAAAAAACnw/RnQf3uCQ_1o/s320/IMG_0185.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My Taurus averaged 29.3 mpg with BN as a wind break. Adam is “The Green Hornet” and I am “The North Star”…our saweeeeeeet CB handles. 10-4 back door. TRIP REPORT: We made friends with a Wiggle Wagon (truck tractors pulling two or three trailers –legal in OH), avoided getting any Driving Awards from Town Clowns in Plain Wrappers, and, luckily, all the Weight Watchers were closed. We didn’t have to slow down in the Antler Alleys either. We saw one Cowboy Cadillac going to the Pokey with a Smokey and Adam saw some nice seat covers from his elevated perspective. We kept it between the ditches and put it to the floor, looking for more. At 1:30 a.m. on Saturday morning we rolled into The Buick. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">For more adventure, check out our YouTube video featuring “The Turd” at <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7rYzbKdUotI">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7rYzbKdUotI</a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy8qw5PycmdaN5tKdz7x6kKv1mUnF0L_wq7_hkkzlfZuFCsh75GP9qEN4dNObsW5hrZuNkS3qya7ByU9q3KkAobYLdm2dZz3HZigP88NLyYIGA0ETJ22DGAohjPvbYyzSKP5m-l3kJUOc/s1600/IMG00763-20110602-0900.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy8qw5PycmdaN5tKdz7x6kKv1mUnF0L_wq7_hkkzlfZuFCsh75GP9qEN4dNObsW5hrZuNkS3qya7ByU9q3KkAobYLdm2dZz3HZigP88NLyYIGA0ETJ22DGAohjPvbYyzSKP5m-l3kJUOc/s320/IMG00763-20110602-0900.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our motto: If you aren’t laughing, you aren’t living.</span></div>Dairy Airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680499431548939602noreply@blogger.com3