Chocolate And Chickens

8:40 AM

There have been a few moments when I have wondered if leaving a perfectly good California home, perfectly wonderful, beloved friends, and a perfectly happy, thriving home business was a poor decision.

Then I remember the many moments of fear (the fires), of frustration (PG&E turning off the power for days when they feared the slightest winds would create yet another forest fire), the extremely high cost of living (California taxes and ridiculous policies), the lack of water, and of being concerned about the ever-increasing crime rate.

We are in our late 60's and we have left California.

Kinda crazy, yes, I know.

We are blessed to have a sweet, little house to stay in while we search for our new home in Missouri. Our temporary home is 7 miles out of a small farming town, and we are surrounded by glorious pastures; our neighbours are cattle and horses. The lightning bugs, sunrises and thunderstorms have been a delight. But...

But.

Finding a place of our very own has been much harder than we thought it would be. Finding a place to meet our specific needs and budget has been tough. Yes, we've had moments of doubt, but are still firm in our convictions that we will find a new home that we can pour our hearts into.

We've had our moments, to be sure.

But then, there was a perfect moment.

As I filled the water trough for the neighbours' horses, the evening's light wind snatched and pulled at my cotton nightgown. The temperature was perfection, so the strong breezes were a caress on my skin. The way the sun's last rays caught on the array of greens in the trees on the small rise was pure art. The deep reddish brown colours of the horses as they grazed contrasted nicely with the tall verdant grasses and was the eternal pastoral scene. The birdsong made a riotous orchestra, from the mourning doves' low coo's, the robin's trills, the meadowlark's song, the occasional squawking cries of the crows, the sassy mockingbird's harmonies, and the heart wrenching songs from the multiple birds I've yet to identify. The slight scent of earth, cropped grasses and just the faintest tang of manure was carried on the strong breeze wrapped this exquisite gift in a simple bow.

The feeling of pure peace.

A perfect moment.

Realize and embrace the perfect moments: they will carry one through the many changes life brings you.

CHICKEN DIPPING GOOD (Yes, I know, terrible, terrible... but I do love puns, especially bad puns.)

4:19 PM

Our girls are all dipped against mites and lice, and it was a 2 person job. Thank goodness for my Beloved.

He recommended using a very weak solution of pyrethrum: being a retired vector control (insect pests) person, he has had plenty of experience with chemicals and critters. He actually has much practice with chickens, as part of his job was raising 'test flocks' as part of the mosquito control process. That being said, I, forever skeptical and concerned about my girls, researched it online first ....

One large 5 gallon bucket filled with warm water and The Stuff, an extra long pair of rubber gloves, a warm, sunshiny day, and we were in business.

Wisdom does indeed come with age, at least sometimes. I figured out I didn't need to chase down 13 girls individually; all I had to do was corral them and pen them into a small area. Luckily, the space between the lock down dog run and the back fence of the big run that runs alongside was the perfect spot as it forms a narrow alley with a dead end.

The girls are mostly extremely bribable: tossing a handful of scratch into the 'trap' worked beautifully for 10 of the 13. The missing 3 were Lacy, Elvira and the ever elusive and skittish Twiggy. Lacy and Elvira allowed themselves to be scooped up and dumped into the penned in area: Twiggy gave me a chase,

but I eventually won, only because I am a wee bit smarter than she. Just barely.

My Beloved settled on a handy tree stump, gloved and waiting. I clambered into the small trap area and grabbed Agnes. Used to being handled, she did not squawk, and calmly allowed the handoff, whereupon she was gently and quickly dunked, and deposited on the ground.

Stunned, she stood there, wondering what the heck had just happened.

Gertie was 2nd: she worrit us somewhat, as after being dunked, she started walking backwards. Staggering somewhat. We both watched her for a good 5 minutes, and as Agnes was doing fine (wet and bedraggled, but fine), we proceeded.

All 13 were done before the water got cold; all walking about, a bit dazed and confused, to be sure, and definitely ridiculous looking.

No, sorry, no pictures. The actual truth is, I was busy and didn't think of it.. Here's a nice picture of Ethel though...

I cleaned the coop, dusting for possible mites (the reason for dunking), which I do twice a year. Kept an eye on everyone as I cleaned and was happy to see Lacy and Charlotte pop up into the coop to check on my cleaning methods. They do this every week while I clean the coop, and while I enjoy their company, they do slow the process down a bit.

It's now hours later, and everyone is doing fine. They are all fluffed up, laying in sunny spots up in the run: life is back to normal.

(and yes, I am still skeptical: keep your fingers and toes crossed with me, yes?)

THE PANTRY

4:02 PM

THE PIG ON A PLANE AND OTHER TALES

7:42 AM

Our last chapter of Texas led us to Dallas, where construction was a mighty force. From our motel near the airport, we could see several cranes.

We had one free day left, so we chose to explore the Dallas zoo. How pleased we were to find it was a lovely zoo, thoughtfully set up and with huge enclosures for the animals. As it was spread out over 106 acres, they dealt with the challenge that a busy thoroughfare went through the zoo grounds. Cleverly, they simply ran a tunnel for patrons to walk through under the road, and lined the tunnel with gorgeous murals.

The savannah exhibit was marvelous and wound it's way over a wide, long, winding path and contained giraffes, ostriches, zebras and a variety of antelopes. It was usually the home of elephants as well, but as the gate to let the great beasts out was having issues, we saw no elephants that day.
What we did view was the fact that zebras can be ornery beasties: we watched one take a dislike to a certain male ostrich. The zebra chased the huge bird about, eventually even biting the ostrich.

The gorilla exhibits were amazing as well; one enclosure had a papa gorilla with his harem, the other had the 4 bachelor gorillas that live together in more or less harmony. These guys were all 15 years old and big. I mean, they were giant, humongous, massive, enormous, immense!

My Beloved made a new friend in the aviary:

and while we did not see any live elephants, they did have a nice fountain sculpture of the beasts.

As this was a Wednesday, our fellow zoo-goers were mainly mothers with young children, and school field trips with packs of energetic youngsters. It was a very enjoyable day.
So, back to the airport, where we noted that many people had service dogs. Tis 'the thing' these days.... and I'm going to get myself in hot water here, as I strongly feel there is a difference between service dogs, who can sense warnings for epileptics and diabetics, and help those who have physical limitations.... and 'comfort animals' who now seem to fall into the classification as 'service', simply as they help their owners 'feel better'.
You can imagine my shock when we boarded our plane to find there was a 'comfort pig' boarded as well.
This pink, grunting creature had it's own seat, next to it's owners: a young couple.
Most folks found this greatly amusing; I overheard the stewardess say that a few weeks back, they had a miniature horse on board as a comfort animal.
The pig behaved civilly (as did I), and I wondered where the line was: the pig provided comfort to it's owner, but I am not over-fond of pigs.
We sat at the other end of the plane, occasionally hearing grunts and snorts. As I am also not keen on flying, it was a good distraction.
It was so good to get home again.....

TEXAS FISHING

12:03 PM

Bucket List Item # 2 for My Beloved was a bass fishing trip. I'll let you know immediately, this went a lot better than the hog hunting.
We had 2 days to get to the scheduled fishing date, which was perfect, as it was a 2 day drive. A quick breakfast before leaving Gonzales was in order: trouble being, there were no restaurants that served breakfast in Gonzales. We asked around, to find that we were wrong: there was a place....
An ambitious and talented family had converted an old gas station and made it into the perfect tiny breakfast shop. Mexican food being their specialty, home made, perfect tortillas was their crowning glory. Breakfast for two included coffee, and delectable tortillas wrapped around perfect scrambled eggs and bacon, all for the grand sum of $5.99.
Truth be told, the best meal I had the whole trip (although, the chocolate milkshake at Denny's was pretty darn awesome). I was greatly disappointed that I could not take a dozen warm tortillas with me.
Avoiding the interstate as much as possible, we headed out to find another small town called Alba to go fishing. We drove north through east Texas: lovely landscape with green and trees and cattle.

We drove,

and drove,

and drove. I got the biggest kick out of how they pruned the trees from the power lines: clear, straight cuts that left 1/2 a tree in places. (see above - do you see the tree on the left?)

We found Alba, but had trouble with the back roads to get to the resort. Thankfully, they answered their phone, and like every person and business in Texas we dealt with, the lady I spoke to was polite, gracious and very patient. She assured us that we needed to look for 'Tiffany's Restaurant', and there we'd be.

Well, we found the place, but passed it several times, as we were looking for 'Tiffany's Restaurant' in vain.

I don't see 'Tiffany's' on this place, do you?

The fishing place stated they were a resort; having never been to a fishing resort, I was surprised at the mix of practicality and nice this place offered. They had a well stocked fishing supply store, and a row of nice rooms to offer.

Our room was clean and nicely furnished, if you discounted the extremely dehydrated, deceased frog under the end table, poor guy.

The next morning, bright and early, My Beloved met with the guide who took him out fishing.
While they were out fishing, I took a walk to find that many people had trailers and mobile homes parked around the lake area; most studiously and smartly wrapped in screened porches. I can only imagine the many happy hours that families have spent here.

And I'm including this picture below, just because I like the colour combination on this place:

The fishing guide, who'd been born in Texas, had lived in California for a while when he was younger, so did not have the California prejudice that we'd run into before. My happy Beloved thoroughly enjoyed himself, catching 12 bass total, 2 of which were around 5 1/2 pounds.

Catch and release was the name of the game that day; we did not have fish for dinner.
Bucket List accomplished: we had 2 days left. Where to next?

WATER BUFFALOS IN TEXAS?

11:57 AM

My Beloved's Bucket List Item #1 was a boar hunt.

His hope was to, if possible, take a big boar and have a really cool, snarling boar's head mounted for the motorcycle shop.
It seems there are few public lands in Texas for hunting: it is the norm that folks with land allow other people to hunt on their land - for a hefty fee. It is a system that seems to manage itself well.
The ranch My Beloved signed up with for a night hunt is a well know, heavily advertised outfit. They have got it down: the hunter pays the hefty fee and brings his own weapon, orange hat and vest, water and cracked corn for bait. (purchasing these, along with the hunting license was our first 'have to' on our trip and warranted a stop at one of the myriad of Texas Walmart's and a frantic search for a feed store)
Upon arrival at the ranch, he was quickly introduced to the other hunters there, but once it was announced he was from California, My Beloved quickly found he was ostracized.
Seems the 'good ol' boys' don't care for Californians.
Things moved quickly though: the hunters were teamed up and sent off to go find their hunting blinds. Except for My Beloved: he was to hunt solo.
He had no idea that he was expected to drive out over rough land to get to the blind. My Beloved described the others setting forth in their 4 wheel drives and ATV's..... and he set out in our rented Ford Flex.

The hunting blinds were simple platforms set up in trees, with a backless swivel stool set on it. Once folks were up in their respective trees, ranch employees zoomed out, spreading the cracked corn and bait feed.
And then it got dark.
My Beloved described the night: the light chill and mist, the sheer darkness... and then, the sounds.
He could hear a rustle and then rattling. Turning on the flashlight, he found a herd of elk clustered around his tree. And, as it was rutting season, he watched the males clash their antlers and fight. An amazing sight, to be sure.
That's when the water buffalo showed up.
Honey, I told him, there are no water buffalo in Texas. He assured me that this was indeed a water buffalo: big as 2 couches, large and seemingly benign. And it liked the cracked corn too. The beast ate heartily and laid down and took a nap.
He could hear it snore.
Wondering what he was doing, perched up in a tree with elk and a water buffalo underfoot, he turned off the flashlight and waited again.
Until the pigs arrived.
There was much grunting, and gnashing of jaws: he could hear the them chewing. He used the flashlight again to watch, and saw he had a herd of small hogs underneath his tree. They might have been 140 pounds he thought; not the 'big boar' size he'd hoped for, so he as content to watch while he could hear the guns going off from the blinds near him.
My Beloved reported it was a bit rattling, to be sitting on what suddenly felt like a flimsy platform in the dark, to watch these wild pigs fight and rip at each other, and have guns firing repeatedly and furiously around him.
And it was cold.
And wet.
Groups of pigs came and went, all while, the water buffalo snored.
The hunters had been told to stop firing at 9:45pm and come in. My Beloved gave up the ghost at 9:30.
In his haste to employ his great idea of getting into the car and running the heater, he hurriedly placed his gun in the gun case and securely locked the padlocks ..... along with the keys to the gun case, safely inside.
My poor Beloved.
He had to gather up his wounded pride and ask the ranch folks if they had a bolt cutters, which they did.
Thereby ended the hunting trip. And the snarling boar's head donated to the shop by a dear friend will be just fine, thank you very much.

GONZALES, TEXAS

6:55 AM

My Beloved's 1st Bucket List adventure required me to lodge in the very small town of Gonzales, Texas. I'd be thinking this town was indicative of many of the small towns in Texas, so will devote a post to it alone.
Built around the classic town square (named, Confederate Square) Gonzales was rich with history and sad with economic decline. I was greatly entertained by the stories shared by some of the older folks I met there: it seems that Gonzales had the first, the First, mind you, skirmish with the Mexicans in 1835, 6 months before the Alamo happened.
It was a fact they were all quite proud of.
The town's motto is 'Come and Take It'. It seems the Mexicans, who 'owned' Texas at that time, had loaned a small cannon to the white settlers, to ward off Indians. Comanches, I was informed, who didn't scalp anyone, but were notorious horse thieves.
As more and more white settlers moved in, the Mexican residential army got a tad nervous about these folks using the loaned cannon against them, so they asked for it back.
The response from the (rather ill mannered settlers) was "Come and take it!" The settlers won the small battle, a fact that was mentioned with great pride.
The town commemorates the Alamo with a lovely mural of Susanna Dickinson and her baby; the story being that Susanna and her infant were the only ones allowed to flee unharmed from the Alamo.

The town is rather sad; harsh economics playing out it's role. Two dinner restaurants, three hotels and four 2nd hand stores glow amidst empty storefronts. It appears that Gonzales is a dying town.
One 2nd had store stood out: the Emporium. A 2 story building, with shaky flooring, with downright soft footing in areas, peeling walls (interior and exterior) and a ceiling that is giving up the ghost. One needs to walk carefully around various buckets that caught drips. Still, it was worth the impending danger to roam a place that was stacked high and sort of, kind of, organized chaos of .... stuff.

Upstairs was furniture, women's clothing (and every piece included sequins) and saddles.

The proprietor and his wife were gracious, pleasant and eager to chat, even after I admitted that I wasn't going to buy a thing. After a happy 20 minutes of learning the history of the town, I was politely asked: 'what brings you to Texas?'
As I'd already heard that 'the damn, 'scuse me ma'am, techie liberal Californians have corrupted and ruined Austin' I was ready with my answer. I stated that ever since my husband had heard that Hillary was running for president, he wanted to move to Texas.
Right answer, at least to prevent me from getting kicked out of the place. We spent another merry hour, mainly with the proprietor raking all 'damn, 'scuse me ma'am, Democrats, Californians and techie liberals' over the coals.
I have to admit, I found myself much more open minded than my host, but it was his house, so to speak, and I certainly wasn't going to be changing his mind about anything.
It was an interesting education. Strong opinions run right, as well as left, and in each small Texas town we stopped in, opinions were definitely bent to a strong right-wing direction. No real surprise there.
Its a different culture, Texas....

CHICKEN DIPPING GOOD (Yes, I know, terrible, terrible... but I do love puns, especially bad puns.)

THE PANTRY

THE PIG ON A PLANE AND OTHER TALES

TEXAS FISHING

WATER BUFFALOS IN TEXAS?

GONZALES, TEXAS

About me

Popular Posts

Blog Archive