The Great Salad Attempt

       I'm not the most thicked tongued person, but I'm far from the most sensitive.  I love curry, salsa, cilantro, chili powder, red pepper as much as the next person.  I don't go to extremes with pepper eating contests, nor do I like peppers of any sort, even the green ones.  So when I found a Southwestern salad kit at work one day, I found it completely normal to buy and try as it sounded downright tasty.  And it was...until...

       Many a southwestern themed salad have I eaten at restaurants and loved them.  From their tangy dressings to their tortilla strips.  This kit came with ice berg, tortilla strips, fried onions in batter, and dressing...yum.  

       I sat down around 11pm one day after a night at work in front of my PC to watch some TV.  PSN was undergoing maintenance, so I couldn't use the regular TV.  (I love this modern TV era!)  About one-fourth of the way through, I felt a burning sensation.  This burning sensation got bad enough I needed a drink.  Not a problem.  We used to drink cokes with our red peppered Mr Gatti's..remember?  So I took a sip of tea.  So help me I think that made it worse.  Another sip, yup...definitely worse.  I later discovered it was not, in fact, sleepytime herbal tea.  No, it was Chai Tea-you know, cloves, cinnamon.  Thinking of other options, I remembered sugar is supposed to help, so I grabbed a diet coke.  The pretend sugar did actually help, as long as I kept it in my mouth.  I took a sip or two, and put it back in the fridge.

       I gave it the benefit of the doubt, assuming I hit a spicy dressing pocket or something.  Nope, I was just getting to the heavily dressed areas actually.  About half way through, I had to relieve my tongue again.  I just grabbed whatever was next to me, unfortunately forgetting the past experiences.  One sip of the tea next to me brought tears to my eyes.  I precariously balanced my bowl next to my keyboard, jumped up, and ran to the kitchen while trying to see through crying eyes.  I got to the sink and soaked my tongue in a glass of water.  When that water heated up enough to quit working, I swallowed and soaked it in the next bit.  I removed my tongue, gasping for breath, only to answer Arlis to tell him that yes I am fine, and why aren't you in bed.  The burn came back.  I had had enough.  

       I put a chunk of sugar in my mouth, let it dissolve, and sloshed it around a bit.  I may lose all my teeth because of this, but at least my tongue will quit burning.  The pain was tolerable again, but I sprinkled sugar over the last half of the salad just to be safe.  It helped greatly.  I was able to make it to the last fourth before another attack.  

       Then, duh, I thought-burning is from acid, try baking soda.  So I grabbed my ramekin of soda I dip my tooth brush in and plunged my tongue into it.  Now I love the taste, but this was awful.  It tasted nothing like it should, and I don't know what it did to my mouth, but it was far from relieving.  I sloshed with water and spit it all out.  I was running out of options.  My lips were numb and I was past burning and into pain at this point.  I thought peppers were measured with how much sugar it took to relieve your pain, but that wasn't working.  I had a bag of mini chocolate bars.  You know, Twix, Snickers, etc.  I grabbed a Milky Way dark thinking it would be the smoothest and therefore the most relieving.  It actually helped more than anything else.  Maybe the stickiness of it allowed it to stay there or something.

       I don't know why I decided to finish the salad.  My tongue was on fire.  Nothing I did relieved the pain for long, and the pain grew with every bite.  The only thing I can figure is I hate to waste food, and I was NOT going to be beaten by a salad.  A SALAD!!!  I finished it.  I then RAN to the sink to throw it in and did the only thing that came natural at that point.  I brushed my teeth.  I'm not sure why this was my natural response.  The only reasoning I can think of is that I was doing the pee pee dance so my body thought I needed to go to the bathroom, but when I got there my mouth was louder than my bladder.  I had to keep dancing while brushing, not just because of the need to go, but the pain.  You know the pain.  The kind that makes you hold onto something and kick the floor just to try and keep breathing.  That kind of pain was now in my mouth, lips, and I'm not sure, but I think my neck was going numb.  I rinsed and brushed a second time.  Oh the relief, relief, relief.  Even though I use soda to brush, it worked this time.  I ate a few more chocolate minis just to be safe.  

       I then sat down and drank a sweet drink and went to bed not to much later.  Now, this experience has taught me to never eat that again, but wait, there's more. Yes folks, I woke up with heartburn.  I have NEVER had heartburn in my life.  Oh I've had acid burn me out, but never an actual pain like I was beaten in the chest.  This hurt, bad.  The only thing that made me not panic was that it was low enough it couldn't possibly be my heart.  So I just propped up my pillows and went back to sleep.  So ladies, the moral of this story is, always have chocolate on hand.

Electric Garden

So, we have this problem with the hay area in the winter.  As you can see-it gets really nasty and ruins potential grazing pasture.  It also makes it harder on their feet, making it more prone to cause problems like disease, etc.

 Oh fine Pepper-say "Moo!"

 So, Arlis set up this really cool fence.  And this cold morning

I decided to blog this lovely idea of his.

Notice anything strange?  Go on, look again...  We put up a temporary electric fence.  Oddly, regular fencing is not tax exempt, but this is, something about property value increase with the permanent fencing.  It's solar powered.

And butted to the neighbor's fence.

The back gate is left open for free access to it.  The mommas were using it as a playpen for the calves this morning, and the sheep soon joined in.

Paprika lays around chewing the cud.

Lightning digs for more.

And Thunder doesn't seem to mind the electrical current.  In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say he enjoys it.

The rest of this year's hay will go into this area, and it will be used as a feed lot.  The fertilization of next year's garden has already begun.  Here's hoping for another idea to be great in the long run!

 

Bragging rights

We have run out of land.  We have a registered Dexter breeder that we buy excess bulls from in order to keep customers for beef.  They recently delivered three.  I have changed their names to John.  I was SO PROUD of this e-mail that I had to share.  I have changed NOTHING but her husband's name.

John and I were BLOWN AWAY this morning when we made hamburgers for breakfast.  John had 2 even.  That beef was by far the very best we have ever ever tasted.  I am in shock how great it was.  Unbelievable flavor and texture.   You obviously have the magic touch.  We have also been discussing what a great job you're doing there with your whole farm n We have had a lot of customers throw money and words at their farming goals but you are actually putting in the hard yards and making it work.  You are doing a great job Arliss.  Keep up the good work!!

We believe God has blessed us, and hope that is all it is, because if it is our land and we move, we will lose our great flavor, etc.  If it is just that one calf...well you get the idea.  We believe we are doing what God wants us to do.  If this isn't proof, I don't know what is!  Thank you my God for allowing us to serve You the way we believe You want us to.  Please speak to us so that we may always do Your Will. 

Out there in front of everybody

I've been sick and uninspired, so I apologize for not writing in so long.  However, a friend of mine told me three stories that cracked me UP!  So, I thought I would share.  I have changed all names, etc.

So, a friend of mine, Betty, works at a local apparel store.  She was in charge of the fitting room one night when this man struts out in a G-string.  He's pulling the sides up in order to enunciate his...item of interest.  Strutting up to Betty he says, "Do you have anything that will fit this?"
Betty, "I'm sorry, we don't carry peewee."
He immediately turned and went back into the room slamming the door behind him.  Concerned for her job, she called management and told them that there may be a complaint against her.  She then told management why.
Manager, "Betty!"
Betty, "I'm sorry, but he had his thing all up in my face, and I'm not having that."

So then, another day, a woman comes to the fitting room with a cart of clothes.  She appears....to have been smoking....not cigarettes....a lot.  So, Miss Betty informs her that you are only allowed four items of clothing in the room at once.  This lady picks one up and says, "One..."  She then proceeds to think hard and long.
Betty, "Two."
Betty helps this...lady...to count out four items and lead her to a room to use.  A while passes and the customer walks out of the room...in a thong...just a thong...
Betty, "Excuse me ma'am, but you forgot your pants."
Customer, "I want more clothes."
Betty, "You need to want to put on some pants."
Customer, "One..."
At this point Betty grabs several, not bothering to count, and throws them into the fitting room.  The lady follows suit and Betty calls management to report the situation.  The lady returned later dressed appropriately...well, appropriately for her anyway.

Now, for the last, and best story.  A couple came in late one night, and hung around the halter tops near the door.  She was not dressed appropriately to begin with, and he was swaying, so there were a few clues there.  She grabs a top or two and holds them up to herself.  Her friend reaches up and starts to slip one of her straps off of her shoulder.  KaWHAMO!  Out they come right there in front of everybody.  A family next to them throw their hands over their children's eyes and run off in shock and terror.  Betty jerks up so unexpectedly that she whacks her head on a clothes rack.  She runs to the manager's office slamming the door open and screams, "WE'VE GOT BOOBS!"
The manager, startled and confused, "What?"
"SHE'S GOT BOOBS?"
Manager, "Um...."
"OUT THERE! NAKED! IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY!  BOOBS!"
Manager, "Are you sure?"
"LOOK AT MY HEAD!"

Enjoy your next clothes shopping spree :).  And please, behave yourself ;p!

Stress free animals

I had no intentions of writing this, but then I read an article on stress and livestock.  I was going through some old pictures of when we first got started, and we could NOT believe the difference in our animals from when we first got them to now.  We give all our cows names.  The guineas don't have names, and the chicks don't have names, but probably will someday.  Beef cattle are given generic names that are reused for emotional reasons.  All other animals are named out of respect, telling them apart, and it is required for registration.  I had a customer ask us why we named our animals.  He found it as odd to name them as we did not to.  The article also mentioned that animals named and talked to and treated as more than lawn ornaments produce better.  I believe it.

Here is Fargo now.

 For those not in the know, he's a GOOD looking bull!  He would win prizes for sure, but I refuse to put a ring in, and regulations require one on bulls.  I understand why and don't dispute that, but I can't do it to Fargo.  That's Booger to the front/left, and Betsy is the black one behind him.

Here is Fargo when we first got him.

 The big one is Betsy, and the little one is Booger.  We figured he must have been younger than we thought.  We checked his papers, he was over a year old when we got him.  He looks like a tiny little thing, like a calf.  Arlis refused to believe is was him.  Then I showed him more.

Here's Betsy when we first got her.

 Skin and bone.  Here she is just a year or less later.

 Not the best picture, but you can see that our cows are NOT skin and bone now.

When we looked through, we wondered what on earth do we do differently?  We don't grain feed or supplement or anything.  But Arlis works with them every day, and I used to.  They are respected and loved, that's all.

I've also noticed the chickens were fatter, laid more, and healthier looking when I was at home.  I spent the time with the birds the way Arlis does with the cows.  There must be something to it.  Less stress also makes better meat because of less adrenaline.  One we raised from birth was FAR better in taste and texture than one we bought as a calf.  Just another reason to buy from the right places. 

In memory

   I've been wanting to do this for a while.  We've lost a lot of lives here at the Burrow Farm.  That's normal.  We've learned to accept death more, and live life more.  Our son is probably a lot healthier emotionally about the cycle of life as well.  Many deaths were expected.  Slaughtering is a part of life, a part I truly believe needs to be revisited by most.  When you take the life of an animal, an innocent, beautiful animal, you learn what it's like to kill, what it's like to take a life.  And when you literally butcher an animal after killing it, it makes you ask "When does life actually end?".  You refuse to waste a single piece of meat.  You choose to give that sacrificed life the fullest meaning possible.  Holding a gun is taken more seriously when you've used one.  The true potential of knives and violence are realized and respected.  But enough of that.  

Below I choose to post the most memorable of those lives lost that weren't planned.  

In their honor:

George-found one morning in the floor dead.  We believe old age and therefore a heart attack.  He was the most awesome rooster ever.

Baby-a bottle heifer that wouldn't get pregnant.  Eighteen months old and with 4 bulls that really liked her, she still wasn't pregnant.  We planned on her being a milk cow, and possibly nurse maid.  Slaughtered and sold for food.

 
Red-Refused to eat.  Died.  Arlis really wanted a Hereford.  Buried in what is now pretty much our calf graveyard.

 
Bluefoot-attacked the back of my leg one too many times.  Cute little pet rooster, beautiful.  Eaten.

 Delta-the most awesome hen ever. Ravaged by a raccoon we killed in an earlier post.  Her chicks are doing well.

Goldie-Eggbound killed her.  (no picture)
Red-Found dead one morning with no explanation.

  Merlin-This is especially sad for me.  I got food poisoned and almost died.  She has her own special story.  We found her dead outside my bedroom window.  It's where I hadn't seen her in 3 weeks and she was sleeping outside my window.  Most awesome duck ever!

RIP my friends, RIP.

Ace

I already had a blog saved and ready for today.  But life took a different turn.  After getting to bed at 1AM the night before (I was waiting for the midnight release of BOIII so I could get a T-shirt for Arlis) I drove the next day to a town an hour away to get Marcus the dog he's been wanting.  A five year old lab mix that's already neutered.  He didn't smell bad, and wasn't covered in fleas and ticks.  We wanted a lab because the neighbor's labs are perfectly fine with our chickens.  We were told he LOVED to be hugged and snuggled and the previous owner was thrilled he was going to a farm with a little boy.  She was in a fix and didn't want to give him up.  So I'm writing this blog today to let her know how it's going.

Ace was friendly enough, but he didn't want to get in the van.  We thought he wanted to stay home, but I now believe it was for other reasons.  While driving down a country road, thank God it was country road, I had to make an emergency stop to let the dog out to poop.  Arlis was holding him in his lap when I looked over and saw it coming.  "Poop!  Poop!"  I grabbed his tail and held it down, applying pressure to said area.  He got as much pleasure out of it as I did.  He then dropped a good deal outside, and I cleaned up the small amount inside.  He still didn't want in the van.  About 2 miles from home, "Poop!  Poop!"  We let him out where Arlis figured he was fed grass because only cows poop that much.  There wasn't a mess this time, thankfully.

We got home and walked him about, introducing him to the cows and other animals.  Boy-seen below-informed Ace how he felt with claws on his face.  I scolded Boy, and they just pretty much avoid each other now.  He pooped again.

 He seemed alright with the chickens, and I was real tempted to just let him loose.  Glad I didn't.  I got him up from his "nap" today before I went into work and leashed him out with the birds.  He was fine until they moved.  Then...he was REAL interested.  Sigh.  So I guess he'll be like Mya.  He's allowed free reign outside in the mornings and evenings or if the birds are ever up, but if he needs out while they're out, he'll have to be chained.  Sorry, I know that's not what you wanted, but he doesn't seem to mind much. 

 Other than that, he gets along real well with everybody.  The cats are too scared to go near him, but they'll get used to him, and Mya likes him.  That's saying alot because she's usually real jealous of other dogs.  So, dear Ms previous owner, thank you so much for Marcus's new pet.  Marcus used him as a pillow last night, and Ace really liked it.