Monday, February 16, 2026
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Blond Brownies

By
Debbie Dance Uhrig
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Well, how was Valentine’s Day? Mine was a pretty full day, started out with blueberry pancakes for folks at the office, friends & family. My husband got me my favorite chocolates and a bouquet of flowers, I am still enjoying. Our son, Phillip and his gal, were here for a nice Valentine dinner of Shrimp Alfredo with linguini, accompanied by a nice salad, bread, chocolates and coffee. A perfect closure for a lovely day.

For some reason it seemed like I cooked a great deal this week, I haven’t figured out why yet. Today I made old-fashioned tuna melts for dinner and then plenty of leftovers for sandwiches this week. We were right in the middle of a movie tonight when I leaned over and said: ‘Let’s put this on pause and make a pan of blond brownies.’ Ervin said: ‘I’m headed to town; I can’t have brownies without a glass of milk.’ Good thing he made the trip because we were out of eggs too. Unbeknownst to me I had cooked the last dozen eggs for the tuna salad!

Phillip had gone to his girlfriend’s house, so we teased him a bit by sending a photo of a glass of milk and the pan of homemade brownies. Then; I picked up the phone and called my dad at bedtime, and he too was like: ‘Oh mom always made those, they’re so good.’ Well, guess what we did? I packaged the brownies up and we decided to pull out in the morning with tuna salad sandwiches and brownies, as we head back to Lewistown, MO to surprise my dad. For my readers who get this column directly, please don’t tell my dad!!!

Those of you from the Lewistown, MO area may know the recipe I am speaking of, especially if you knew the O’Dear and VanMeter families. Yep, Maxine VanMeter or Martha Lou O’Dear always brought them to church events. As some of you may know blond brownies with chocolate chips on top were a big thing in the 50’s and 60’s. I probably hadn’t made them for about 5 years, at least. I sat there with my brownies and milk and cried because of the wonderful memories associated with those brownies.

As a musician I frequently stated the following about music: ‘It evokes emotion’. Well, so do smells, food and awesome memories. That’s why it’s so important to

keep cooking. I remember when my girlfriend badly broke her knee in a garage door accident about 4 years ago. I spent several nights at her home and was taking meals out to her pretty frequently. One day, she looked at me and said: ‘Could you cook here tonight, I just want to smell food cooking.’ If I were a cook in a care facility I would be setting up a table and making small omelets to order each weekend. It’s all about ‘passion’. A passion for people and a passion for cooking our way into someone’s heart. I’d best curtail myself right now or I could end up with a five-page dissertation on the inadequacies of senior care facilities.

Well; I’m headed off to bed, because it appears I’ll be rising early in the morning. Good thing I finished up most of the laundry this evening!!! When you stir up these brownies do not overcook them, the second the center is firm, they are basically done. They do not tend to pull away from the edges of the pan either.

Simply yours, The Covered Dish.

Blonde Brownies

2/3 cup soft butter, do not melt

2 cups brown sugar

2 eggs, lightly beaten

2 teaspoons vanilla

2 cups flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

6-8 ounces chocolate chips

1 cup chopped English Walnuts or pecans, optional

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees.

Soften butter and blend in with brown sugar, cool slightly; add the eggs and vanilla. Mix all the dry ingredients together with a whisk and gradually add to the butter mixture. Lastly; add nuts if desired. Spread into a greased and floured 9 x 13 glass baking dish. Sprinkle with the chocolate chips on top. Bake in the 350-degree oven for approximately 25 minutes. For a nice presentation line your baking pan with foil, and spray, spread the dough and add chips, then bake. When the brownies are cool lift them from the pan and allow to cool. Cut with a plastic knife and they’ll look like they came from a bakery! Test with a toothpick for doneness. Makes about 24 squares.

Pepe Le Pew, we Smell You!

By
Steve Gilliland
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A term often used around Christmas and Thanksgiving is “Seasonal Smells,” meaning scents like pumpkin pie, roasting turkey and the scent of pine; pleasant fragrances that we associate with that time of the year. We are entering a time of the year that also has a specific essence associated with it that is not quite so pleasant.

Anytime now, the morning air will possibly begin to smell slightly more “skunky” than usual. Also at this particular time of the year, dead skunks seem to litter the roadside. Welcome to skunk breeding season in Kansas! For our pungent friends the skunks, breeding season begins at the first sign of spring warm up, usually late February and early March. Skunks do not hibernate, but become very inactive during the heart of winter, when a den becomes very important. Communal denning is common during this time, and a dominant male will often share a den with several females during this time leading up to breeding season. Their breeding season is fast and furious, but very short, so keeping oneself close to as many females as possible pays big dividends for male skunks when skunk love is in the air.

All right, so this is skunk breeding season, but I’ve always wondered why that means we smell them so much more than usual. After all, they certainly don’t spray their girlfriends do they? Maybe it’s some kind of ritual mating dance that ends each time with a poof into the air? The answer is simply that at this time of the year, male skunks might roam as far as five miles in one night looking for eligible ladies, and since all male skunks are currently of the same mind, the chances are pretty good males will encounter each other on their quests. And then, just like a bunch of jocks fighting over the cheerleaders after the junior high dance, someone’s gonna’ get sprayed! Figure this happening several times a night for a few weeks with all the male skunks in Kansas and you have the answer.

With that solved, what about the reason for finding so many dead skunks along the road right now? The most obvious part of the answer is simply the fact that all male skunks in the kingdom are draggin’ main street right now lookin’ for girls, so the law of averages says that because of that, some will get flattened. Also, skunks are cocky little buggers and will not back down from anything, period. So that characteristic possibly makes them reluctant to turn and run away from an oncoming vehicle, again, leading to a flattened skunk.

By the way, if you, your dog or your car ever happen to get sprayed directly by a skunk, here is a recipe for a deodorizer that really works, and yes, I know this from experience, and that’s another story in itself: mix together 1 quart 3% hydrogen peroxide, ¼ cup baking soda and 1 teaspoon liquid dish soap (Dawn works well.) Mix this up just before use and don’t save any leftover. Bath yourself or the dog and scrub the car with this concoction. It absolutely works!

Skunks are amazing critters that have amazingly soft, luxurious fur (once you get past the smell) and whose potent, pungent essence is invaluable to the fur-trapping industry as an additive to trapping lures. Trappers who extract the pure skunk “quill” from the animals can expect to get one to two ounces per skunk, and at about $20 an ounce that’s pretty good gas money. Skunk essence enhances and magnifies other fragrances and is actually used in very minute amounts in perfume. Some years back there were rumors that someone was developing an aerosol spray from skunk essence called “Skunk

Power” that could be used by women against an attacker. I couldn’t verify its existence but what a good idea! Native Americans are said to have used skunk oil as a healing balm and liniment; I knew our Native American ancestors were tough, but that fact gives me a whole new respect for them.

So there you have it, a little Pepe Le Pew 101 so-to-speak. When I smell a feed yard here in Kansas I just think of it as the smell of money. Even though I know skunks are yet another example of God’s marvelous and diverse Creation, it’s pretty hard to think that way when the spring air is ripe with the smell of skunk. Continue to Explore Kansas Outdoors!

Steve can be contacted by email at [email protected]

Trying New Things to Grow

By
Guest Columnist
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Trying new things to grow is one of the fun things about having a garden! Fennel is a close relative of dill, carrots, and parsley. Many gardeners are most familiar with growing fennel as an herb for the foliage, flowers, or seeds. Bulbing fennel, also called Florence fennel or finocchio, produces a large, swollen stem at the base of the plant that is eaten as a vegetable.

 

Variety considerations. Most herb varieties will perform well in Kansas. For the vegetable types, look for varieties that are fast maturing and bolt resistant.

 

When to plant. Sow seeds in mid-March to early April for a spring crop or late July to early August for a fall crop. The bulbing types will thrive only in cooler periods of the year. Fennel can also be started from seed indoors and transplanted, although the seedlings can be delicate and tricky to transplant.

 

Spacing. Plant seeds 2 to 3 inches apart and thin to a plant every 4 to 6 inches for best results. Rows can be 12 to 15 inches apart for vegetable types. Foliage types grown for seed can get much taller and may need to be spaced further apart.

 

Crop rotation. If possible in your garden space, do not plant in the same areas where dill, fennel, carrots, or parsley have been planted in the past 3 to 4 years.

 

Care. Once established, fennel plants are fairly drought tolerant. However, too much heat or drought stress for bulbing types will result in the plant flowering and losing quality of the bulbs. Fennel will tolerate light frost if planted for a fall crop.

 

Harvesting. Fennel foliage can be harvested at any time during the growing season. Fennel seed should be harvested after it has turned brown and then dried completely before storage.

 

Fennel bulbs can be harvested at any size but are at peak quality when they are about 3 inches across. Bulbs larger than 4 inches may be of lower quality. Bulbs on plants that have bolted (flowered) will be woody and poorly flavored. Cut the plant below the bulb, at the soil line to harvest the bulbs. Trim the tops near the bulb and store in plastic bags in the refrigerator for several weeks.

 

Strange World, Strange Ways

By
Dylan Yoder
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Every now and then our lives become crazy complicated. I mean what is a daily schedule other than a series of problems/crises’ that we have to solve periodically? Ok, maybe that’s taking it a bit too far, but really, it can be difficult to navigate our strangely complex and difficult lives. Sometimes it’s nice to have a reminder that our world is crazier than we are. There’s a strange comfort in the way that the insanity of the world gives us a sense of belonging. Like “We’re all mad here” or something. But enough of the vague references, let’s take a look at a couple of recent headlines that make me feel like a normal human in comparison.

First of all, starting with a film that will take ONE THOUSAND years to develop. No, we’re not making this up. You would think with our modern technology we can move a little quicker than that. Ok, maybe I took a little creative liberty in that description. A Professor from Arizona thought it would be rather interesting to take a massive time-lapse of the Tucson landscape over the next thousand years. This means that this camera is going to have to stand the test of time until the year 3023 when it can finally be viewed. Who wants to take bets on whether it will last? Just kidding, none of us will be around to witness it anyway.

Speaking of incredibly draggy artwork, how about the longest musical composition in the world? There is a piece that was composed by John Cage, a late American composer who wrote a tempo marking that dictates it is to be played “ASLSP” or “as slowly and softly as possible”. Some performers in Germany took that a little too literally and have been playing this piece on organ over the span of 639 years. Yes, I said that right, 639 years. Small sandbags are put in place to hold the notes in place as they continuously play. The site remains a tourist destination in Halberstadt, Germany since 2001 when the performance began.

Ranchers in the Midwest may see some strange changes in their farms over the next generation or so. For a while now, the Angus cow has had the spotlight on beef production in the United States, but what about the famed beast of the plains? The American Bison offers an interesting alternative to the beef industry. Some ranchers have taken those two ideas and combined them making a beast known as the Beefalo. Part bison, part bovine with the ultimate goal of creating a superior cattle that combine the milking ability and hardiness of bison. Beefalo are supposedly supposed to be more cost-efficient than your typical Angus as well, but who knows in this market? I always did like bison, but who knows what will come of this new hybrid creation?

Needless to say there’s a lot of crazy stuff going on in our world all around us. Sometimes it’s a little nice to remind ourselves that we aren’t the craziest thing that our neck of the woods has to offer. On the flipside, this could be viewed as a calling to be a little crazy every now and then. After all, development and progress are typically viewed as rather strange to begin with. We can always be proud of what differentiates us from everyone else around us. So go on with your crazy time-lapses and strange farming tendencies. Who’s gonna stop you?

Whimsical reminiscing

By
Milo Yield
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Thayne Cozart
Milo Yield

 

One of the obvious advantages of my living to an old age is that it provides me with a lot of life to look back on an reminisce about. And, at my age, I spend a good amount of time whimsically recalling happy events of my life.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about all the fun I had with my maternal grandmother, Ann. She wuz a fun-loving, outgoing, game-playing, creative, grandma who could pound a mean ragtime, honky-tonk piano — which she played by ear because she couldn’t read a note of music.

She knew by memory hundreds of songs. She wrote music and poetry, too. Perhaps that’s the genetic source of my penchant for wordsmithing. Grandma Ann traveled throughout the Midwest with a USO group entertaining military personnel at their home bases. She spent the latter years of her life living in Aldrich, Mo. She absolutely loved the Missouri Ozarks and wrote many-a-song and poem about the region and the people it.

I remember a portion of the words to one of her humorous songs about the Ozarks. She wrote it most likely during the 1960s. The title is: “Oh, For the Life in the Ozarks.”

Here is a portion of the words I can remember.

 

“Oh, for the life in the Ozarks

That’s where I want to be.

I’ll spend my life in the Ozarks,

‘Cause they’re like Heaven to me.

 

Folks cut enough wood in winter

To buy beans, tobacco and such.

They hunt and fish, whenever they wish,

And, their clothes don’t amount to much.

Their kids start smoking at the age of two,

They even have tobacco to chew.

And, their folks don’t care, ’cause this is true.

They did the same dang thing or two.”

(repeat chorus)

***

Grandma used to entertain her young grandkids by pounding on the piano and singing silly little kids songs to us. While I can hardly remember what I had for breakfast these days, I still remember the silly words to several of her grandkid songs. Here are the words to a little ditty about two billy goats.

 

“In the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia

There once lived two mountain goats.

One had swallowed a stick of dynamite,

Thinking it was Quaker Oats.

 

Now, nice Miss June and Billy very soon,

They began to fight.

But June didn’t know that Bill was loaded

‘Til she hit his dynamite.

 

Through the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia

Billy sailed through the lonesome pine.

His front legs came down in New York town

And New Orleans, it got his spine.

 

Nashville — it got the whiskers of Bill.

And his back legs are yet missing still.

Found his head in the mountains of Virginia

And his tail in a lonesome pine.”

***

Grandma and Grandpa were ranching in Fossil, Oregon, when my Mom wuz born. I’d bet this little song about Oregon originated during those years. Here are the words.

 

“Pat McCarty, hale and hearty,

Ranching in Oregon.

He heard a lot of “tawk”

About the great “New Yawk”

 

So, he left his farm where all was calm

And landed on Old Broadway.

He coaxed a pretty Mary.

They went into a swell cafe.

 

The waiter brought the card

And said, “What will you have to Pat?”

Pat looked at the prices

And, said, “I’ll take me hat.”

 

“Ere I go on, go-way, go which-a-go way

Go which-a-go way, go on.

I want to go back to Oregon.

 

Where you can buy the horses

Many a bale of hay

For what you have to pay

To feed a filly on Old Broadway.

 

I wanna go back to Oregon.”

***

That’s enuf whimsical nonsense for this week. Here are the words of wisdom: “My favorite childhood memory is my back not hurting.” Have a good ‘un.

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