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Chronicles of The Farm Woman: Thanksgiving

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Americans are prone to worship big things.  We boast of our tallest building, largest mansion, victorious football team, et cetera.  It may be that we are getting away from this to some extent.  Man is a pretty small creature in the universe after all.  Time was when the family which had the largest Thanksgiving turkey was the envy of the neighborhood.  Nowadays the biggest turkey will not even go in the oven of the new stove.  And the Department of Agriculture is conducting intensive experiments to reduce the size of the strutting gobbler.

    The young husband brought home the largest bird from the market.  The wife scurried all over the neighborhood for a roaster large enough to accommo-date the bird.  When none could be found, she had to amputate the running gear and the wings.  As the once proud turk graced the festive board it appeared that his race had lived too long upon this earth.  When there are no drumsticks for the children the race is indeed falling into decay.

    At this Thanksgiving season rural school children are grateful to the local theater manager for scheduling “Heidi” at this time.  Shirley Temple is the idol of all country kids.  “Heidi” is a favorite story.  In addition the fourth grade social studies unit is about Switzerland.  The dishes were washed in no time.  The living room is spick and span.  Everything is co-ordinated, correlated and consummated.     

On The Safe Side (Best Of)

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lee pitts

I am ashamed to say that I lasted less than one year in the registered cattle business. It wasn’t the people or the paper work that turned me off,  it was tagging and tattooing the calves that I dreaded.

The instruction manual that came with my breed association membership certificate said that to be done properly “the newborn calf should be weighed and tagged as near to parturition as possible.” This usually meant playing hide and  seek with a nervous mother for two days and then smelling her bovine breath while I tattooed, weighed and ear tagged her calf. Most of my cows would snuff, blow and bluff like they were going to roll me over at any minute, though they never did. But I was not  willing to take that chance with cow #34.

I have always believed that cattle should be handled as little as possible and cow #34 was largely responsible for this belief. She was a man slayer. If this cow was human her picture would be hung in every Post Office in America. So the day I saw her sharpening her horns at the water trough I knew that it was my only opportunity to tag her calf which was resting a half mile away. I gunned the truck’s engine and took off like a rocket over the rocky terrain.

“There’s her calf, we have to act fast,” I yelled to my wife who was riding shotgun and preparing the tattoo pliers in advance of the assault. I knew I had to catch the calf on the first attempt because it was getting older every day and would soon be uncatchable. I jammed on the brakes, jumped out of the cab and grabbed the calf by the hind leg as it was about to escape. By pulling on the leg I provoked a balling response from the calf which meant trouble was on the way.

With hands faster than a PRCA calf roper I threw the calf and was preparing to squeeze down on the tattoo pliers when I looked up into the cold eyes of cow #34. There was simply no way she could have got there that fast!

Acting on instinct I jammed the tattoo pliers into my back pocket (a move I would later regret) and jumped into the back of the truck thinking I would be safe. To my surprise  #34 jumped in the back of the truck with me and followed me over the roof and down across the hood. My wife had realized the danger and rolled up the windows and locked the doors. That left only one safe place and I dove under the truck.

#34 might have been a mother but she surely was no lady. She tried to follow me under the 4-wheel drive pick-up but could only get as far as her shoulders. By rolling over to the opposite side of the truck I could barely escape the pointed ends of her slashing horns. When the killer cow would run around to the other side I would quickly roll over on the ground which was covered with moist cow pies. It was at this precise moment that I regretted earlier shoving the tattoo gun with its piercing needles in my back pocket. Although it does explain why I have the number 34 tattooed on my right rump.

I am reminded of this incident by the large muffler brand on my right arm and to this day I could draw you a schematic of what the underside of a pick-up truck looks like. I got a real good look at one as I rolled back and forth to be on the safe side, away from the cow. Realizing that I could not keep this up for ever and that I might die from carbon monoxide poisoning  I yelled to my wife in the cab of the truck.

“Honey, cough, cough,” I gasped, “get out and detract the cow long enough so that I can roll out from under the truck and jump in the cab.”

I wish I could tell you, gentle reader, what happened next but the last thing I remember is the sound of my wife laughing haughtily at my suggestion, the transmission slipping into gear, my feet being warmed by the midday sun  and my wife saying something about going for help.

wwwLeePittsbooks.com

Soup, stew or creation?

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Steve Gilliland
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A couple years ago after catching my last bobcat of the trapping season, I laid it on the pickup tailgate and marveled at the magnificent creature it was. First the eyes, eyes that could probably spot a scurrying mouse at a hundred yards. Then the ears, each tipped with a tiny tuft of fur, they’re wondrous little organs that would probably have heard the same mouse even farther away. I stroked its plush fur and wondered aloud how its creamy-white spotted belly could be so beautiful. I took one of its paws in my hand, paws that seemed much too big for its lanky body. I cradled the paw upside down in my palm, and with my thumb pressed down on the underside of one toe. Out came a curved, talon-shaped claw sharp as a fishhook. When I released the toe it immediately covered itself again with a sheath of skin as if it was not even there. “How does this all work?” I wondered.

This week’s column is a bit of a departure from my norm. I’m going to make a rather bold statement here, but stick with me… I believe in evolution. Yes, you read correctly, I believe in evolution… I believe in evolution as a process by which all wildlife adapts over years, generations or decades to changes in their environment, but I refuse to believe in anything other than God’s Creation as the vehicle by which the creature that lay on the pickup gate before me came to exist!

No matter how mundane or uneventful an outdoor adventure seems, I absolutely never leave nature’s presence without being fascinated by something. Maybe it just doesn’t take much to fascinate me anymore, but my wonderment with Creation starts pretty simply. For example, how does putting a kernel of corn into this stuff we call “soil” with a little water and sunshine cause a plant to grow? And furthermore, how does that seed know to grow a stalk of corn and not a soybean plant, a pigweed or a maple tree for that matter? And then there’s the part where it produces a big ol’ cob full of the exact seeds we started with, covered by several layers of heavy leaves to protect those seed till they ripen. Or how about the vibrant colors around a rooster pheasants face, the shimmering green of a mallard drakes head, the stunning red hues of a male cardinals body or even the amazing palate of colors found on a pesky peacocks tail? Then inversely, how do all the females of those same species end up totally dull and drab so they blend in with their surroundings as they sit on a nest filled with peculiar looking vessels called “eggs” that will hatch, and just like the corn plant, produce young that are exactly like their parents?

How do geese navigate to spots hundreds or even thousands of miles away, and yet find their way back home to nest? How do salmon end up where they were hatched to lay eggs of their own, which – you guessed it – will hatch into little salmon looking just like mom and dad. How do ducklings know how to swim when they are barely dry after hatching and how do hoards of baby turtles know to head straight for the ocean mere minutes after digging themselves free from their sand covered nests?

I’ve barely scratched the surface here, but I’ll tell you how I believe this all happens; it’s all Divinely designed to happen that way! Oh I’ve heard all the other explanations; how we began as monkeys and “evolved” into humans. I have no doubt our ancestors looked nothing like us, (some people I still wonder about today) but trust me, we still began as humans. Then there’s the theory that life began as some sort of “stew” or “soup” and over a gazillion years “just happened” to develop into all we see today. As my wife would say, “It takes way more faith to believe that than it does to believe in Creation.”

Anyway, I’ve ranted enough for now, but the bottom line is that I believe deeply in evolution as the process by which all life adapts to its changing surroundings, but I believe deeply that all nature was created by God for us to enjoy and manage, and the day I stop believing that way, I’ll sell all my traps, fishing rods and guns and take up knitting, because I won’t deserve to Explore Kansas Outdoors anymore!

Steve can be contacted by email at [email protected]

The Covered Dish: Squash Casserole

By
Debbie Dance Uhrig
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Happy Thanksgiving! This is my favorite holiday and sometimes I just don’t know where to stop on the holiday dinner. I think if I had ‘subjects’/’diners’ I could prepare about 3 different holiday dinners and still keep going! I appreciate the fact that we’re looking at our blessings this week and not the gift giving factor. It’s all about being together with family & friends and rejoicing in how our cups runneth over.

 

I enjoy making this simple squash casserole. It can be adapted to be made using sweet potatoes or squash. The best part is it can be frozen. Often I’ll make two, one for now and then one for later. I’m a huge fan of crumble toppings and it’s like eating a pie without the crust, in my opinion.

 

Because my hours at work have changed during the holiday season I’m not getting home until 6 or after many evenings. This is good in that it makes me more compassionate with others who work late. You want to make a good meal for your family but it’s like you eat at 7 and then poof it’s time to go to bed! At least it is for this old gal.   What I’m doing is meal planning. I have a weekly list on the refrigerator door and I try to stick with the plan. As we have talked soooo many times, this keeps us from grabbing a ‘fast’ meal out. Especially when you have guests in your home, it’s beneficial to know what you’re making and when. If I can make goodies before the guests arrive then I can spend time with them.

 

I enjoy making plans for holiday gift baskets. I find large baskets at a thrift stores and such, then I come home and wash & dry them. In the two months before the holiday I begin making yummies from my kitchen. I also look for good buys on hot chocolate packages, teas, coffee, crackers and fresh fruit.

This year I’m doing about 3 of these baskets and they’re going to include dry beverages, wine, tea, cocoa, smoked cheese by myself, homemade summer sausage, crackers & fruit. I’m sure a few other little surprises will also make their way into the basket. There are just times when you want to do something special for someone who has gone out of their way for you. I think this type of basket is enjoyed much more than any commercial pre-made gift.

 

Pick a theme for your gift baskets and go to work. If someone is hard to buy for consider a gift card for steaks, a bottle of wine, cheese & crackers. I know I would adore something like this. For senior adults who may live alone it’s nice to take casseroles, canned soups or stews. If a gift certificate is the main goal then tie it to a small gift that would accompany the gift certificate. For a massage gift certificate you could tie the card to a yummy body cream or hand lotion. It’s the little extra steps that we take that can make the gift so special.

 

Last week I had a guest ask me what I like to do when I have free time or I’m not working. I just started in: a good western romance book, good wine, tea or coffees, even a massage. Just spending time at home with my family is probably top on my list.

 

This week we are excited because Grandma and Grandpa Dance are spending about 5-6 days with us. And we have some cousins coming into town too. Thanksgiving Day will be well orchestrated allowing us to spend lots of time visiting and drinking good coffee, tea, eggnog, etc.

 

Breakfast for Thanksgiving morning is still out, in other words, I can’t decide! I generally lay it all out in the kitchen and let guests make whatever they desire. Usually there are only 2 meals on this special day and if you eat anything at night you make it yourself! About all the holiday décor is up on the inside of the house and if it would stop raining we would have the outside done. This week the tree goes up and the manger scene is placed and we can call it finished. Ut OH, I forgot the mailbox! I’m making a greenery piece to go over the mailbox using the same bracketing that you would use to clasp an arrangement on a cemetery monument. This could mean a trip to the woods to pick up fresh pine.

 

I am so very grateful as we enter this blessed season of Thanksgiving. The food and traditions are wonderful but counting our blessings is foremost. Embrace each and every moment. Simply yours, The Covered Dish. www.thecovereddish.com

 

Butternut Squash Casserole

3 cups butternut squash (cooked & mashed)

2 eggs, beaten

1/3 cup butter

1 cup sugar

1/3 cup milk

1 teaspoon vanilla
Mix the above ingredients and spread in a greased one and a half quart casserole.

 

Topping

1 cup brown sugar

1/3 cup flour

1/3 cup cold butter

1 cup chopped pecans

 

Cut the cold butter into the flour and brown sugar. Stir in the chopped pecans and sprinkle over the top of the squash. Bake for 30-45 minutes at 350 degrees. The can be mixed ahead of time and frozen. Thaw and bake. You could also use sweet potatoes for the dish instead of squash if desired. Serves 4-6 persons.

Wichita State Choral: ‘Wake, Awake’ Candlelight Concert

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Join Wichita State University’s Choral Department as all four WSU choirs ring in the holiday bells with “Wake, Awake: the 52nd Annual Candlelight Concert,” 4 p.m. Sunday, Nov. 30, and 7:30 p.m. Monday, Dec. 1, in Wiedemann Concert Hall.

General admission tickets for adults are $7. Discount tickets are $6 for seniors and military and $3 for students. WSU students always receive one free ticket with a Shocker ID.

Joined by strings, brass, organ and percussion, the Candlelight Concert is a celebration of the holiday season and of the talent in WSU’s School of Music. The event offers a festive breadth of music that ranges from Gordon Lightfoot to Johann Sebastian Bach, including perennial favorites Beautiful Savior, Personet Hodie and more.

Tickets for this WSU musical tradition are available now at the Fine Arts Box Office noon-5 p.m. weekdays, in the lobby of Duerksen Fine Arts Center. Contact the box office at 316-978-3233, or purchase tickets online at wichita.edu/fineartsboxoffice.

For more information, go to wichita.edu/choirs/candlelight.

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