Name That Kitten

Aren't they adorable?

Bibbs, their mom, moved them from the hay barn to the milking shed right before I left for my Mom's on Tuesday. The hay barn seemed like such a good play pen for them so why, I couldn't figure out, did she move them. There was a chance she'd change her mind and go back to hay stack. She didn't. So, when I returned, I began to dismantle the make-shift home we'd built for the kittens, with the intent to feed the hay. Hefting aside one of the bales that formed the roof, I uncovered four newborn babies. They must be Cinders, she's Bibbs's best friend. Now I know why Bibbs vacated her home. Cats can really be sweet.

The calico on the right is named Sandy. It's a no brainer, she's a girl. All calicos are a girls, but the gray one, well... I think its a girl but I'd better take a good look. Last years, quick glance transformed before our eyes from Maggy to Magnum. That wasn't bad but a few years ago a fast glance ended up being stuck with Sue. He's a three legged, onery fighter.

I'd welcome suggestions on names and meanwhile I'll make a thorough exam to disclose the kitten's true gender.



This is my frost bitten garden.

. The top picture is a potato plant and the bottom one a pumpkin. Winter has been long in passing. In fact, on the Big Horn Mountains, there was still four foot snow drifts by the road, when I drove over them to my mom's.

The gardens on the other side of the mountain look as bad or worse than my own. So, I don't feel so bad about mine, that is until Jim started e-mailing us pictures of his garden. Green tomatoes with just a blush of red - cantaloupe heavy on the vine and the even though I realized he's in Alabama, not Wyoming, it still makes me feel jealous.

Neighbors baby geese are so adorable.

Any Day Holiday Waffles

Gingerbread waffles with raspberries, goat whipped cream, and powdered sugar.
Looks good doesn't it? Well, just reach for the waffles in the freezer. No, not the ones from the store, but the ones you made the other day and froze. My favorite is gingerbread waffles with powdered sugar sprinkled on top, a handful of raspberries, and a dollop of whip cream. M...M..., they are sweet ambrosia. Kirk, on the other hand, loves anything chocolate - so chocolate waffles with strawberries and whip cream on top has his approval. Then, there's blue berry waffles with maple syrup or better yet, heap on more blueberries or blueberry pie filling with a generous helping of whipped cream.

But, wait, don't stop there, add to your favorite plain waffle recipe pumpkin pie filling with cinnamon. Or, you can try smashed overly ripe bananas and don't forget to add the miniature chocolate chips. You'll put those cardboard waffles from the store to shame and if you serve this to company you'll endear them to you. To make a really big impression, serve the pre-cooked bacon I told you about in a previous blog and scrambled or fried eggs. You'll have a breakfast that will tide you over for hours.

I know your thinking it. How do I have the time to make waffles and freeze them ahead. Instead of cutting a recipe in half or wasting waffles because the batch makes way to many for just the two of us, I freeze what we don't eat on a cookie sheet. When they're frozen, I slip them into a freezer bag. Then, when we want them, I place a waffle plus the frozen fruit in the microwave, reheat and meanwhile, I have a small amount of whipping cream, goat of coarse, in a tea cup and with a hand mixer on high, I have it done in no time. Into the frothy mixture I add a little powdered sugar and vanilla. Then voila, you have a breakfast worthy of the holidays or any day you deserve to be treated special.

How about tomorrow? You have to work. Well, just take everything including the already whipped cream and place them in the refrigerator. When it's break time, microwave the waffles and fruit and then top with powdered sugar and whip cream. You'll be the envy of your coworkers.
Black Forest (chocolate) Waffles with homemade cherry pie filling, goat whipped cream, and powdered sugar. Next time, I'm going to serve the cherries cold. They really wrecked havoc on the whipped cream. Kirk decided he preferred strawberries to cherry pie filling.

A Wonderful Ending

(Part three of three postings this week)

We had gone early Sunday morning, before church, in search of the Mallard hen and drake who were parents of ten ducklings. Toni had found them swimming in the library's pond a few days earlier. Today,they were no where to be found, but we had a lovely stroll around the grounds studying the plants, and enjoying the sleeping city while listening to the birds greet a new day.
Bronze sculpture by the Library

As we wondered, I was reflecting upon our weekend and having a hard time excepting the fact we would be leaving for home in a few hours. I giggled, recalling the verbal shuffle in our car's backseat between Toni and our son, Kalob. We were returning from supper on Friday night and Kalob was sitting with his arm around his girlfriend staring out at the street signs and complaining about the problems they'd encountered trying to find his sister's home.

"It would help if the presidents were at least in order." he grumbled."If I built a city, the signs would have pictures not words -- like stick man with a club."

Musing along those lines, Toni piped in, " Then I'd live on the corner of Stick Man With A Club and Kitten With a Ball of Yarn. Which is one street past Fat Lady On A Bicycle."

Most anxious to see how this conversation played out, we didn't want to interrupt, but Kirk and I were really struggling by this time to stifle our laughter.

"The only problem would be how well people could draw." replied Kalob.

"I can just imagine the postman looking at an envelope and saying, 'Is that a fat lady on a bicycle or is it a buffalo?' quipped Toni."

That was it, we couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing.

Kalob's girlfriend hesitated a moment and then joined us. I wonder what she thinks of this crazy family? This was only our second meeting. Though we had toned it down, you couple our verbal reconnaissance - often similar to Who's Line Is It Anyway (with a G rating) - and the fact we are so easily entertained- probably, because we usually bring it with us -, and the unsuspecting are thrown out of balance.

For example, earlier that night, Kalob's girlfriend had looked pretty uncomfortable outside the mall where we'd just bought ice cream. Music was playing and inspirited by the beat, Toni's and my feet moved of their own accord and began dancing. She hung back and appeared to be tasting a foreign flavor and it wasn't the ice cream. Sometimes, it's best to reveal your true identity at a later date - a bit at a time might be best.
My mind was brought back to the present when I witnessed Kirk and Toni laying on the sidewalk next to the library, cameras in hand, flopping about like fish out of water as they shifted trying to capture the dew drops upon the wilted leaf as the early morning rays transformed them into glistening jewels.

'It doesn't take much to entertain this family', I thought laughing to myself.

Sculpture Park

(Part two of three blogs to be posted this week)


Toni Rexroat photography
(Click on photos to enlarge)

A thirty minute nap after a late lunch and we were refreshed from the four and a half hours at the car show and ready for a stroll through Sculpture Park.

Surrounding a meandering pond were bronze sculptures scattered upon the lawns and tucked in amongst the bushes and trees that fringe the water.
Toni Rexroat photography

Many of the bronzes, especially in the children's area, lent themselves to playful interaction and we took full advantage of the opportunity.
Here Kirk and Toni sit beside a kind looking gentlemen to whom we never were formally introduced.

Toni joins in with the group of children who appear to be playing ring around the rosey.


A sidewalk ambled away from the lawn into the natural underbrush and we followed finding this surprise.


This large canine appears to be trying to get our daughter's attention or does he just want to shake Kirk's hand?





When we came upon these frogs, Toni and I had to give them a kiss just in case by doing so, a spell would be broken releasing an enslaved prince.


By the grumpy look on their face, the thoughtful gesture wasn't appreciated.
Toni Rexroat photography


Evening soon approached and we had a long ways to go to completed the loop around the pond, so we picked up the pace, hustling underneath these bronze crows.
Toni Rexroat photography

As we studied the statue of three eagles, the sun slipped below the horizon, and Mother Nature put on a light show as she bid us goodnight.

Toni Rexroat photography


Toni Rexroat photography

Toni Rexroat photography

Even after the darkness had veiled man's artistic creations behind its black curtain, we tarried. Toni used her flash to photograph an intricate stainless steel sculpture, then we crossed the bridge to the gazebo. Resting upon the benches, we listened as a chorus of frogs serenaded the night.

Good Guys Car Show

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Babysitting Blues

There are times when babysitting goes way beyond haying, watering, and milking and I wonder what I've got myself in to, like a couple weeks ago. I went over to run through the chore schedule with Linda and acquaint myself with the changes since the last time I'd babysat her livestock. One of her new Holstein bum calves couldn't help but catch my eye as its tail stuck straight out and his back was hunched as he continually strained. The signs of constipation are pretty universal. What concerned me was that it was evident the calf had been at it for quite some time. I asked Linda if she would mind if I went home and brought my constipation kit and doctored the calf. She said, "Sure".

As I drove home I chastised myself, 'Maybe, things would work out fine without your interference'. 'After all, Its not your animal. You really should butt out once in a while.' I couldn't though. The scene of the suffering calf kept replaying in my mind. Besides, I reasoned, I would be dealing with the problem the next morning anyway. By then, the situation would probably be worse. I'd seen the next stage of this problem. It wasn't pretty. The calf would begin having a hard time breathing and become to weak to stand. Foam would bubble forth from his mouth. Death would follow.


It took a surprising amount of warm water doused with a couple drops of Dawn dish washing soap to do the trick. More than I've ever had to use before. I administered it via a human enema bulb, small doses at a time. Then, I waited ten minutes or so for it to soften the blockage and did it again and again and again until I felt like the calf was turning into a water balloon. The stress from the fear of rupturing the intestines caused me to stop. In reality, as gentle as I was, the water would simply have flow back out rather than damage anything. But, my over zealous imagination sometimes over rules reason which whispered to me that the blockage must be far up inside the intestines.

I figured to give the water and soap time and explained to Linda that I needed to do chores but would be back shortly and maybe by then the herbal, digestive aid, pill I'd rudely force him to swallow would have gone to work.

The scene hadn't changed when I peered over the fence once more. The calf still had his tail way up in the air, his body hunched and pushing. Linda took her former position holding the calf by his halter and we proceeded to fill him with more fluid. When a strain a few minutes later expelled a small amount of softened feces, I could have cheered. Their wasn't any plan B and I don't know what I would have done if the enema failed to do its job. We were at the wait and see phase and so I went home praying that the calf would be much better in the morning.

Thankfully the next day, the calf was fine. I had no further problems with him or his black and white companion.

*******

The story wasn't the same with Pumpkin's foal a few days later. He died in my arms. Their wasn't anything I could do to save him. He was born premature and his owners had spent the night feeding him every few hours. But, jobs called them away and so they asked if I could feed him a couple times while they were gone. The message was left on my both my answering machines as I had been off doing my own livestock chores. When I arrived, another friend of their was already there. He was doing his best to assist the little colt but experience wasn't on his side.

I took over. First, I milked the mare filling a baby bottle three-fourths full. The task isn't anything like milking a cow or goat. Equine teats are an inch long but since this couple has nearly thirty mares, I've had practice. Squirting a small amount of the precious fluid into the colt's mouth, I then stroked my hand gently downward along the front of his neck encouraging him to swallow.

When the bottle was nearly empty he had gained the strength to suck and afterwords could stand with assistance, swaying in our protective arms. I thought he had it made when he collapsed into a heap falling into an exhausted sleep for his breathing was stronger and he had a healthy dose of fluid inside his tiny body. As I covered him with an old towel to ward off the slight chill of the breeze, I expected to return two hours later to find the colt raised up on his chest.

Instead, it was evident when I pulled up and glanced out my pickup window, that the foal had begun the journey with death. Lifting his head, I called him back but by now he wasn't breathing and his heart had slowed. I began CPR but he did not respond and died in my arms.

All in all, it was a hard week and I was glad to relinquish my babysitting responsibilities and return to the flow of my own routine chores.

A filly is a female, baby horse.
A colt is a male, baby horse.
A foal is a baby horse.

Convenience Bacon

American Vetch (food for the Plains Indians)

I was nearing home as the sun's golden rays kissed the prairie flowers on the hillside good night. The Vetch plant's purple flowers glowed as the beams of light passed through their petals like a stained glass window, its grandeur spotlighted.

The insistent rumbling of my stomach diverted my attention from the warm scene and rather than linger on the prairie with my camera, I hurried up the hill, my mind engaged in what I could make for supper. It needed to be fast, my energy was fading with the sun. I remembered the bacon I had just bought that morning and thought maybe a BLT sounded pretty good. If it had been T-bone steak or corn that was missing in our freezer, we'd have waited until we butchered or the garden refurbishes our supply, but I've a real weakness for bacon. You know, spinach salad topped with bacon, tomatoes, and sliced hard boiled eggs; cheese souffles with bacon and broccoli; baked potatoes with sour cream and chopped bacon. Yum!

But, it was Aunt LaRae's trick that created my downfall. She instructed me to bake or broil the meat and then freeze it whole or chopped. She was right, it was handy when company came and you wanted to serve bacon and eggs. By the time the bacon was reheated, the fried eggs were done. I figured why wait for company, and it was then that I began buying bacon when we ran out.

Tonight, I used a broiler pan but during the time I was powerfully confused where I'd placed it after cleaning the pantry, I tried cooling racks on a cookie sheet. It worked just as well. You can use the broil or bake setting on your oven. And, what I like best is the fat drips away and the slices remain flat and don't curl like they do when you fry them.

I cooked the two packages of bacon as I washed the milking pails and cleaned up the kitchen. Then, settled down on the couch to watch Rat Patrol, an old television series we had on DVD as I savored my bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich.