Tinsel Hair and Planet Pretty

Hi!
Ummmmm...so I did this thing the other day..actually I had this thing done the other day....

I got tinseled....
And I LOVE it.
(Please ignore the E-normous part in my hair..it's really not that big..at least I hope not.  My nose, on the other hand is verymuch that big...)
I wake every morning and immediately think "wha? what did I sleep ON?"
I love love it.
I have ZERO credibility...
BUT I have gold hair so why would I need credibility?

I didn't realize when I got tinseled that it could possibly make me look less professional...
Pffffffft! I know, right?
Me! LESS professional? Try and wrap your mind around it..

I had a sales rep come by the dairy barn yesterday and he seriously talked to me like I had just moved here from planet Pretty.
Him:"Hey! Do you have a few minutes to talk?"
Me: "Actually I was just headed to breed a cow..."
Him: "Great! Then I'll walk with you!"
Me: "Ohhhhhhh no you won't"
I did say that.
My eyes, however, were saying "If you value your life, you will get in the truck".

Breeding cows takes a little bit of focus..there are tails whacking you in the face while you are trying to put your arm there, the target-cow is doing the quick-step so there is suddenly.................there...............
there...............................................there....................................there............................there...........
you are dodging the other cows who like to walk up behind you and lick your hair because it is over processed and reminds them of straw, all the while you are trying in vain to avoid poo-splatter, even though you are there, and this guy wants to talk about the weather?

Well, there's a chance of a STORM.

The sales rep must have looked at my hair, decided that the poor gal didn't realize it wasn't even October when she fell asleep inside her Christmas tree while decorating it last night, and assumed I didn't know how to use the internets.

He wanted to show me.
I wanted to strangle him with tinsel.
He left.
The end.

There are a couple of other things I need to catch you up on before tomorrow..cuz I'm excited about tomorrow..we will get to that.

The first thing is that you need to make this....
Like NEED to.

It is a Devils Food Cake(from Martha Stewart) with caramel-dark chocolate ganache.
A-mazing.
I want this served at my funeral.
I won't be there to remind you, so write that down.

It was supposed to be a 3-layer cake..however I'm stupid it is only 2-layers of love because I'm pretty.
The middle layer fell apart upon assembly...and I had to eat it...
Took one for the team.

It was ohMyGosh good.
Partly because when combined with the ganache I used TWO pounds of butter, and partly because I followed my instincts and took the layers out of the oven 7 minutes early.
No thanks to Martha and her wood-burning oven.
Watch your cake peeps.

It's for one of Chucks friends and I hope he likes it!

OK the second thing youHaveToKnow is that we started chopping late corn yesterday.
No, we're not late chopping corn, it's called late corn...self explanatory.

But you don't need to know that.
You need to know that tomorrow I am starting a new monthly thing right hur.

It's pretty big..huge in fact.
It involves me conducting an interview today...that's not exciting is it?

OK it involves a cow....
Anything?

Just come back tomorrow and see...mmmmk?

The Tale of TomCat

Once upon a time there was this cat and his name was Tom...

Tom was born on a dairy farm and always though he was just one of the cats. 

He never really thought himself to be different or special.

He and all of the other cats were treated especially well considering they were farm cats and, historically speaking, farm cats were hunters-scavengers if you will.

Stories often told of how these "farm cats" would be left to fend for themselves, relying on their instincts and lightning-fast reflexes in order to hunt for their next meal.

These were just "stories" to Tom and the others, though.

He, his friends and extended family were lucky and they knew it.

They didn't have to hunt their own food or worry about shelter.

No, Farm Girl and Tractor Guy took care of that.

Farm Girl and Tractor Guy ALWAYS fed them twice a day, EVERYday.

Tom and his crew were fed 4 TIMES a day! Crazy talk!

Rain or shine, darkness or sunshine, Farm Girl and Tractor Guy were always there.

Tom truly appreciated not having to fend for himself and would often spend the day lounging around playing with the others.

Occasionally Tractor Guy would scoop him up, scratch him under the chin, then set him back down to be on his merry way.

Tom liked this.

He liked it a lot.

In fact he liked it so much that he developed a purr and noticed that if he hung around his two-legged friends more often, he would more than likely get lucky and get scratched behind the ears.

Then, late one night Tom wandered up to Bossman and The Heats house because something caught his eye.

Something was moving in the window...it was a CAT!

Inside?

Tom had never imagined being fortunate enough to live inside with the two-leggers.

He mentioned this notion to a few of the others and they didn't think much of it.

They assured him that he would never be lucky enough to have that opportunity and that the life he was living was more than adequate anyway.

Tom dismissed the idea, but not totally...it still lingered in the back of his mind, like most dreams.

A few weeks passed and Tom was living life each day, appreciating what he was given...trying not to think about the two cats he saw in The Heats house...

When one day Toms life changed forever!

He was grooming himself after his second meal of the day, when out of nowhere he was scooped up from behind!

Two very small hands were around Toms body and Tom found himself nestled on the shoulder of a midget two-legger....

Tom had always considered the calf barn and shop to be his residence...however he suddenly knew the meaning of 'Home'.

Tom was home.

He never panicked, never worried because somehow Tom knew that though this two-legger had a vary small body, he had a very big heart.

Tom had begun the day like any other, however he ended it having gained something he never knew he was missing...

...a best friend.

And the boy and his TomCat lived happily ever after:).

What I Have NOT Been Doing

I would like to begin by telling you that there is most definitely NOT some sort of critter rightBehindMe crackling the plastic bag on the floor between the filing cabinet and wall.
There's NOT.
If there were I would be crouched on top of my desk with my knees under my chin...which I'm NOT doing.

The past few days have NOT felt like weeks and I thought I would share some of what I have NOT been doing...you  can thank me later.

1.  I most certainly DIDN'T install security cameras in my office.
Said cameras did NOT record Rowdy scooting her butt across the floor for twenty minutes straight.
I will, however, be picking up worming medicine today...just in case.

2.  I did NOT con The Heat into taking my truck to get the oil changed..because I would NOT do something like that.

3.  My cousin Amy came out on Monday with her boys to tour the ponderosa..
They are too cute.  The younger one didn't care anything about the animals..he just wanted to drive a tractor.

The older boy is a budding veterinarian...or maybe animal hoarder.  It's too early to tell.
I am NOT sending this kitten home with them today....

His name is NOT Tom.

4.  I did NOT watch as Eddie almost wrecked the tractor pulling the Honeywagon.
This was NOT because he was staring at my cousin and her mile long legs...
This is NOT reason number 4,513 why I won't wear shorts around here.

5.  I did NOT tell the boys they would die if they fell in the manure pit....
To be honest I think I would die if they fell in the manure pit.

6.  I did NOT make Mercy act like a scratching post for a picture...

7.  These kittens did NOT occupy 13 minutes of my morning yesterday...

By NOT doing this....

Which did NOT end up being the highlight of my day.

8.  I did NOT make everyone I know mad yesterday without even leaving the barn.
This did NOT cause me to NOT have a glass of wine...with my wine last night.
Which did NOT cause me to NOT make ice cream and NOT be in bed by 9 pm...

....all of which I am NOT telling you about...

Best-Laid Plans Often Go Awry

I realize that you are smarter than me, and it's OK because I realize it.

If you tell me that you're smarter than me I'll be mad.

That's how this relationship works.

I only say this because I was originally going to start out with..."Have you ever heard of a recessive gene?".

But then I didn't, because OfCourseYouhave.

This, my friends WhoTellMyDadIHaveABlog, is a recessive gene at its' finest...

The "wry face".

Good old 5731, she always looks like she has a question.

Jerseys are gifted with this genetic anomaly.

Like I said, it's recessive so we only have like 2 or 3 running around looking confused.

Thank goodness because it can be hard to explain.

And I don't like talking to people.

There ya go.

5731 was not bred with the wry face in mind.

She was bred very well and the wry face just happened.

Like my poor vision and oddly placed teeth.

Genetics. Thanks mom and dad.

The shape of her face doesn't bother her..it just looks different.

It gives her personality..because we ALL know Jerseys lack this...

Her wry face is just proof that sometimes you plan for the best and things just don't pan out.

Then what do you do?

Give up?

Lose faith?

Run away?

Hide your face?

Sure. You can do that.

It's your loss.

You lose because whatever it is, you let it beat you.

I have seen my share of bad days, trust me, and to be honest I'm not fully healed.

I have demons that I struggle with.

But those demons can't touch me here.

This is my place.

Where I was always meant to be...I just got here in a unconventional way.

I owe my life to this farm...this place.

I started here, left, but then returned and I can't live without it.

Being a farmer was not in my plans, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Yeah, it's going to be a struggle...seeing as it's not a very lucrative career choice..but it's where I feel I was meant to be.

It's where my heart beats.

To be honest I don't lose sleep worrying about my heart beating so I'm not going to waste time worrying about being a millionaire.

You don't have to be perfect to be happy, just ask 5731:).

GIRRRRL FIIIIIIIGHT!!!

What is it about teenage boys and not making ANY sense atawl?
I took Mercy and Taylor out to eat last night since The Heat and Bossman are on a expedition hunting Grouse.
I really don't think Grouse exist...I think they are like snipes..mythical mousy-bird-like creatures.
I know you agree.
Or it could be that they are at a meeting...same difference.

At any rate the kids(one of which is taller than me...grrrr)and I went out on the town.
We decided to roll the dice and eat Japanese..feeling frisky we were.
During dinner Mercy kept saying the strangest things, then he would start a story and the light would reflect off the salt shaker and capture his attention until the point was lost.
I think it's the Bieber hair....
Something about the 'hair toss' rattles the brain and disconnects thoughts so you're left with comments like...
"I ate all my food that time at...uh...that place called..uh...Chris's Ruth...er something..."
Ugh. Boys.

But we had a good time, laughed at each other, Taylor drank 6 cups of shrimp sauce, Mercy ate 12 pounds of rice and I said a number of "pretty" things.
Good times.

Yesterday started out really well with a HUGE bull calf in the field..his backbone was at my hip..big'un.
His mom kept givin' me the crazy-eye so I waited a bit to introduce myself and it seemed to work.
I'm still here.

I honestly don't know what in the world is wrong with my animals here lately!
It's like they have all been shuttled in from Crazytown.
If it's not wild heifers escaping their hutches, it's bar fights.
I had to break up TWO yesterday.
Maybe I should rethink the brewers and distillers grains.
I don't have enough insurance for this behavior.

One was around lunch(they have no concept of time) and the other was in the evening.
First round was between the Jersey girls...

The one on the left came and got me when the fight broke out...tattle tale...

Keep in mind these are very pregnant ladies so it could be hormonal..

The blond on the left is a 2008 model and the frisky ginger on the right an '07...

I gotta give it to the Ginger..she is a bad mama-jama.

If I were Blondie I wouldn't have picked a fight with a veteran..

Being hit with a cows head is like getting hit with a cinder block..trust me I know.

I bet those big babies in the oven are wondering what the heck is going on...

I had to crop this picture..sorry..so it's small.

But at this point  I thought it was over.

Ginger's noggin got pretty rattled when Blondie whopped her in the jaw with the top of her head.

Here again...I know how she feels...

But that wasn't the end of it.

Ginger came back with a vengeance.

Seasoned veteran.

You know how to end a fight between two pregnant ladies?

Bring out the feed wagon.

We Need To Talk..

OK so I just want to let you know that before you are able to see the bodacious pictures located further along in this post...we need to talk.
You and me.
Mano y mano.
Capisce?

I have sort of been avoiding this much like you would avoid a toothache...but then the tooth starts hurting more and more and then......
He says those 5 dreaded words...

Well the tooth doesn't, but my dad..you know "Bossman" utters them.
And suddenly you have to sit down because your heart is in your feet and you may or may not throw up.
No one likes that feeling.

No.One.

The blind sided feeling.
I have been blind sided my friends...or are you?

The Heat told me that Bossman asked her if she knew how to retrieve a picture that he had taken with his phone.
Do wha?
Indeed. My dad, the same man who once had an argument with my sister because she put something in the microwave for 1:00 and he said that was wrong it should be 0:60.
It got heated...and I don't mean the hot pocket.

He took a flippin' "pic" with his cellular device.
He can't check his voicemail.
But he took a pic.
He leaves me messages that say, "...Hello?" then he hangs up.
But he took a pic.
Okie dokie.

After The Heat remembered to close her mouth, she saw that it was a picture of a picture of her...he's an aspiring Ansel Adams...she asked him where he got that picture.
And.He.Said....
"It was from Rachael's blog"...

If you're not running now..YouShouldBe.

Upon hearing this, I disappeared into a mental black hole filled with e-v-e-r-y mention of him in my dad-blamed blog plus e-v-e-r-ything I had e-v-e-r done wrong in my entire life.
This blog will be the end of me.
When I regained composure I looked The Heat dead.in.the.eyes and said....
(in a pitch only a dog could hear)..
"WHATdoYouMeanRachael'sBlog?WhoToldHim?HowDoesHeKnow?AmIFired?"

I could only picture myself penniless,homeless,on the street with a sign that read "will breed for food"...
...Maybe I need to rethink that plan...

At any rate, you should know that I will now be hiring an investigator who will interview ALL of you.
Today.
The bad news is the lengthy interviews start now.
The good news is I should know in ten minutes.

Alrighty, on to the biz-ness at hand...
I walked out into my dry cow lot and happened upon this scene..
Daaaaawwwwww...

She had literally just had this little baby girl and was still licking it off.
Actually, I took this after I pulled baby girls head out from under her body.
It just didn't look comfortable that way.
I do what I can.

Two things I want to point out before you smarty-pantsies do;
1.  She only has ONE ear tag.
2.  Said ear tag is in backwards.
I am not responsible for either of these misdemeanors.
JustSoYouKnow.

It's OK because I know who she is.

It's 8416...good cow.

Great mama.

She drives the bus to crazy town, but she is good people.



Sometimes I get that look.

The "come-a-bit-closer-and-we'll-dance" look.

Some scary dance lessons from the past taught me to walk away..
They are big gals but they got moves.

And the thing about these 70 lb. newborns, is that 5 minutes after they are born they are doing this...

Being that their front end is much heavier than their rear end they then do this.....

Until they get to approximately here...



At which point they take a deep breath and on the count of three they end up like this...



By this time they are absolutely starving, so naturally they head here...

Then fall down 36 times, putting them here...

And she never stops licking.

Judge J-Sizzle

"Hear ye, hear ye! All rise for the judge Ms. Eightfiveninethreeoh..or J-Sizzle for short."

Thank you.  I apologize for being tardy to the party...I was at lunch.

Ahem.

Now, what do we have here?

Ms. Sizzle, we have a Ms.Crazy Pants vs. Ms. Twolegged Monster.

Ms. Monster claims that Ms. Pants ran away from home which led to a high speed chase.

Through the dry cow lot.

In the mud.

Where she then kicked Ms. Monster in the shin and caused Ms. Monster to fall.

In the mud.

Ms. Monster does not like the mud.

Interesting.

How do you plead Ms. Pants?

Goh, like, totally not guilty.

SHE scared ME! All running around on two feet like she owned the place.

Kept saying she wanted to 'feed' me.

Pfffffffft!

Sure. She wanted to feed me to that blind dog of hers.

That's not true!

I am here on behalf of Ms. Monster.

She wants to take care of you!

Yeah! What McSpotty said!

She feeds us and stuff!

Well, I am pretty hungry....

Is it good?

I heard it's the bomb-digitty...

...then again I hear a lot of things...

So what do you think Ms. Pants?

She is willing to drop the charges is you agree to let her take care of you...

Well, alright...I guess.

But I still don't trust her.

Lefty Smalls and Apple Pie Ice Cream

I have a feeling this week is going to be a 6-grocery-store-trip kind of week.
I have already been the past two days straight and I can tell you with confidence they have no canned pumpkin in Maryville.
I know you have been wondering.

I wasn't even looking for it really, but I tend to "check" on things before I need them.
Keeps me from flippin' my ever-lovin' lid at the Kroger stock boy.
You'reWelcome.

It also enables me to constantly have on hand everything from individually wrapped caramels to polenta.
Which, by the by, would not go well together.

The other "up"side to having these oddities on hand is that I can make things on a whim.
Truffles? Ice cream? S'Mores?
Done.

Chicken? Potatoes?
NotSoMuch.

So I apparently have to take my cow-smelling glory to the store every.single.day. because I can buy water chestnuts but not toilet paper.
And LetMeJustSay, is it really necessary to make a bottle of fabric softener as big as a detergent bottle?
Those of us who currently have 2 bottles of said softener and ZERO bottles of detergent Don'tThinkSo.

So anyway.
Yesterday I was on a mission.
A Paula Dean mission.

My mission was to leave work at 5 and fry everything I could until 7:45.
A ruined contact and oil burn on my wrist says "mission accomplished".

Why? You ask.
Because Chuck wanted fried chicken and do you even need an reason to fry something?
Plus I had an inspiration.

Monday night I made a vanilla bean-cinnamon ice cream base...but it needed something...
I mean it would have been great and all..but it needed to be taken to the next level.
We all know that the level above great is...pie!!
Apple pie to be exact.

So I ended up doing this great thing....

I made Apple Pie ice cream!

And took a really bad picture of it!

I almost messed up though.

Big time.

I made waaaaaaayyyy too much of the "apple pie filling" however this resulted in the second fantastic thing I have done in the past two days...(The first was the ice cream...duh).

I made fried apple pies!!!!

Can I get an Amen?

You see I, for some inexplicable reason, used 5 apples instead of 1 when I was making the filling.
Yes, that's 4 too many.
Genius.

So I took my leftover filling and added cornstarch to it...

Pretty, golden, caramely apple heaven.

Then I took my crusts that I rolled, and cut out...

(FYI: Rolling out ANYthing is one of the top 3 things I despise..the other two have to do with the mandolin slicer and Bobcat.)

JustSoYouKnow.

Then I used my nonexistent ice cream scoop..because I don't have 3 hands..

And put a little heaven in the crust.

Just a little though.

Then I got an 85 year old lady to hold the thing...

...and seal up the edges.

Thank you Edna.

Then the fry daddy took them to the next level.

I didn't take a picture because the first one didn't seal well resulting in a lot of popping and sizzling and finally the inability to use my right eye.

I now go by the name Lefty.

Lefty Smalls to be exact.

Left Smalls and Edna did some great things to these here pies.

They sprinkled them with angel dust..or powdered sugar as some people call it.

 

Then, THEN they got the bright idea to serve them alongside that there ice cream..

You know, the Apple Pie ice cream?

That's the one.

And the two lived happily ever after.

Eventhoug the picture stinks.

*The ice cream recipe is mine and I put it on the TastyKitchen website under "Mashed Potatoes and Gravy" just kidding...it's under "Apple Pie Ice Cream".

The fried pies were a recipe I got from Fine Cooking.