The Raccoon and the River

After weeks of chicken disappearances, we finally determined to set a trap. We had seen a raccoon late one evening, but we knew it was eating some old corn left in the barn, so we weren't convinced that it was also eating chickens. We were leaning towards a fox. And I halfway figured all we'd catch was one of our cats.

The first night we set the trap we didn't catch anything. The next night, we caught the coon!  Brandon had a dentist appointment early in the morning, so who do you think found the trapped rascal? Me, of course!

Don't be fooled by those eyes!

He was dreadfully adorable, so I had to get my neighbor to do the dirty work. (I did dispose of the body and clean out the trap, however...if that makes me any less of a sissy.)

Later that evening, we took PawPaw's boat to the river, and had a great time. 

Actually, we had a great adventure when a storm popped up on us. We had to "abandon ship" as Brady said due to lightning. Luckily, we weren't too far from Point Mallard golf course and walking trail, which runs right next to the river. We tied off to a tree, ran across the golf course, and took shelter at the bathroom on the 9th hole.

Taking shelter during the storm.

Even with the storm, not catching any fish, and melted ice cream sandwiches, we still had a blast and can't wait to do it again.

Okra, Okra, and more Okra

It's that time of year when the okra is coming in strong and I find myself saying, "What am I going to do with all this okra?"  I'm sorry, but I just can't stomach pickled okra.  I like my okra one way and one way only: fried!  

Unfortunately, once okra has been frozen or canned, it just turns into a slimy mess--not anything that can be fried up and turn out decent. So here's something I'm trying new this year; let's hope it works.

Ready-to-Fry Frozen Okra

Step 1: Wash okra and cut into pieces.

Step 2: Coat pieces in cornmeal.  (And for those who don't know, true Southern frying is done with a light cornmeal-dusting batter, none of that thick, heavy carnival-like stuff.)

Step 3: Arrange the coated okra in a single layer on a cookie sheet.

Step 4: Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes.

Step 5: Allow the okra to cool and then place it in quart freezer bags.

HodgePodge Vacay Part 2

The vacay continues...

Day 4: I finally let the boys get a coconut drink, which they thought was the coolest thing ever! 

We ran out of spray-on sunscreen the previous day, so we used an SPF 50 lotion and ended up getting sunburnt! Swearing off the rub-on stuff for forever, we headed to Wal-Mart for some more spray-on and beach toys. The boys were so excited to get new bodyboards and snorkel gear!

We spent the evening on the beach and then in the hot tub. (Brandon and I spent about two minutes alone before the boys decided to join us...Seriously?!?!?) Anyways, we ended up with a major disappointment when we realized Mason's board got stolen from the chair where we left it. I tried really hard not to fume...really I tried...

Day 5: Being our last day, we decided to make the most of it by getting out early and staying out late. Mason opted for early morning fishing (of course), and since there was a red flag for the ocean, Brady opted for the pool.

It was super hot, and I had to hit the shade for a break. One highlight for me was completing my novel; I'm a slow reader. We went to town for supper, and then stayed in the pool and hot tub til late evening.

As with all vacations, not everything was perfect; there were moments of boys fussing, snacks spilling, waiting in hot lines at restaurants, swallowing saltwater, and feet burning on the pavement. But all-in-all, it was a fun and relaxing time spent with my three favorite people! I can't wait to go back!

HodgePodge Vacay Part 1

The HodgePodge packed up and went on its first beach trip in TWO YEARS! It's been too long... Here's a glimpse of how it all went down.

Day 1: Brady didn't say hardly two words and never cracked a smile. He was being so cool and independent (don't even THINK about trying to rub in his sunscreen!) I forced a smile out of him for this pic.

Day 2: The ocean was more beautiful than I have ever seen it. Brady started coming around, and I was thrilled that my boys were obsessed with the ocean to the point of me not being able to get them to leave the beach.

Day 3: Highlights of the day included riding the banana boat in very choppy waters, Mason becoming an able and avid swimmer, and me getting deep into my current novel (The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie). You simply must read it!

The fact that I can even read a book at the beach is a testament to just how big the boys are getting. I must admit I did not envy those mommas with babies and toddlers one single time. I just whispered quiet prayers for a few of the more frazzled looking ones.

Pea Shelling and a Bad Homestead Day

The title may be a bit misleading because these are not actually events of the same day, but I'm cramming them into one post.

On Sunday, we picked several gallons of purple hull peas. Since the boys had a dentist appointment early Monday (we LOVE Alabama Pediatric Dental Associates by the way...post for another day), I decided I would just swing by the Farmers' Market and pay the small fee to have them shelled.

Long story short, the shelling machine was down, so I put the farmhands to work that evening (ie, the slave labor I call my children).

They're thrilled on the inside I'm sure!  Being boys, they turned it into a major competition.  They spent most of the hour adding new rules and a whole point system and then trying to steal each other's beans.  It really was a fun evening.  And we ended up with about 18 cups of now-frozen peas for the winter.

So fast-forward to today.  I got out to the garden early to pick green beans with plans to can up some quarts in the evening.  I picked a two-gallon bucketful (about half the beans), and then got called into the house to referee a quickly-escalating WWE match.  Another long story short: I got distracted (details following momentarily), determined to pick the rest of the beans in the afternoon, left the house for the day, and never thought about the already-picked beans again.  Well, that is until Brandon came home and discovered I had left them outside and they had shriveled up and ruined.  I despise hardwork for the sake of hardwork (ie, for nothing!). Thus, Part 1 of Bad Homestead Day.

Part 2? you ask.  Well that was the distraction that caused Part 1 to occur.  I went to get a bucket from the barn and noticed the barn gate was swinging wide open.  I wasn't too concerned initially; we leave it open often during the day to encourage the chickens to free range.  But when I went in, I saw a pile of feathers and feared for the worst.  After a quick chicken count, I discovered FIVE chickens were missing (one later showed up for an actual loss of four chickens, but still...not good.)

Not much later, as I was getting ready to get us all out the door, the boys ran to me in a frenzy because a chicken leg had been discovered on the back patio.  The discussions this leg caused were quite comical and the story of the poor slaughtered chicken continued getting more and more dramatic.  By the end, Mason had "heard" screeching and "seen" blood every where.  Ewww!  Boys and their imaginations!

All-in-all, a bad homesteading day, but at least I got some good blog material.

The Farm in Winter: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

For most people winter is exciting for about a month or so (snuggling up by the fire, Christmas, the first big snow), but after that, it just gets old and cold.  Winter can be especially challenging on a farm.  Here's a glimpse of the good, the bad, and the ugly when it comes to farm life in winter.

The Good
The farm is really pretty at Christmas with all the lights.  (Unfortunately, I can't seem to get a good picture of that.)  It's also pretty when there's a big snow.

The snow-covered farm.

Animals in the snow.

The Bad
Last year, we lost a calf.  The boys wanted a bottle baby for a pet, so we bought a miniature Zebu calf.  He was tiny and adorable!

The boys' bottle baby calf.

His delivery was delayed (and almost didn't happen) because he got "down" for a short spell.  He seemed to recover, but after we got him, he never could maintain a body temperature.  To make a long story short: It was a disaster!  We struggled to keep him alive for two months, even keeping him in our laundry room for a few days.  Eventually, it was clear he wasn't going to make it.

Had he been born in the spring or summer, would he have made it?  Who knows.  But the single-digit temperatures certainly didn't make it easier on the little guy!

A lot of farmers experience loss in the winter, usually with babies.  It's not only an emotional loss but a financial loss as well.

The Ugly
The farm overall is just ugly during the winter months.  The ground is sopping wet, the animals look like wild beasts with all their thick scraggly hair, and everything is brown and gray.  It can be down-right depressing!

Here's an example of the ugly.  (Okay, the hideous really...)

A temporary pig shelter.

Since we moved the pigs to the garden spot to prepare it for spring planting, they were left without access to the barn.  In a pinch, the hubs constructed a temporary shelter for them.  It was super nice looking at first, but within two days, the pigs had knocked some of it down and torn it up.  It was fixed several times, but they kept doing the same thing, so we left them to suffer at their own devices.  (Disclaimer to PETA members: The pigs seem to love it; they're all huddled up in there together enjoying the good life.)

So there it is, a look at farm life in the winter.  I can't wait to post some pretty pictures this spring and summer!

Mom's Magazine

For as long as I can remember, Mom always had a magazine basket in the living room.  Through the years, there were magazines that came and went, but Southern Living was a constant.  As a child and teenager, I couldn't have cared less about the magazine, but as I aged, it became one of those things I just associated with Mom and home.

As a college student, I would see the magazine in the grocery store check out lane, and I would immediately think about the comforts of home.

As a young adult, I would peruse the magazine while visiting at Mom's house just because it was sitting there in the living room and I didn't have much else to occupy my mind or time.  Later, I became more interested in the magazine's subjects, so I would mention a recipe or article or picture out loud to Mom as I flipped through the pages.  Eventually, I got to where I would take the older issues home with me.  Leaving with a handful of magazines after a visit became something I looked forward to, and I'm pretty sure Mom enjoyed having something to give me.

At 34 years of age and being a mom of two, I finally decided I was old enough to have my own Southern Living subscription.  And sure enough, every time an issue comes in the mail, I feel a little happy peace inside because I think of my mom.

In reality, the magazine is just words and pictures on pages, but to me, it's so much more--it's a connection to my mom.  So even though I'm not stealing Mom's magazine any more, it will really always be "Mom's magazine."