Oh Babe...

During the time Marymine was here with my grandkids for Thanksgiving,  her grandpa pulled her off to the den to show her some ancient movies.  Mostly hunting trips of he and his brother and family friends.

But there was one section on the end of one that was of the young college student Cowman.  He was dancing with my roommates and horsing around with the puppies from my Queensland Heeler.  I didn't realize that Marymine hadn't seen it before now. Maybe, her grandpa thought she had.  Marymine kept saying, "Oh Mom, It's Dad, It's Dad!"

The Cowman loved to dance, it is how we met, at a dance in a country barn.  No line dancing stuff, just good old country dancing, fast or slow.  He was a good dancer, not so much the blonde with two left feet, but he never seemed to mind.  More than once I heard these words whispered in my ear, "It's my place to lead, and your place to follow, babe."

We danced at a lot of honky tonks, at rodeo dances, the little Red Bank school house,  and so many dance halls out in the back of beyond.

He danced until it just became too painful with a badly placed staple in one shoulder from a wreck with a bronc.  It was a good long run anyway. 

I know that where he is, he's rid'n a good horse, has Max the Wonder Cowdog by his side, and on Saturday nights he's swinging the ladies around a spring board dance floor with his cockeyed grin full out. 

Oh Babe.

"I have danced with your Memory a thousand times..."  -zZz-

Giving Thanks...

Dad & I are having at least part of my kids and grandkids here for Thanksgiving. YeeHaw!

I'm making most of the dinner, but Marymine is bringing the pies.  I missed out on the cooking gene, as you know, but she sure didn't. That girl can cook! 

The report came back on Dad's biopsy, it is cancer, but I am prayerfully positive.  He has another scope with the radiologist tomorrow and we will know more treatment wise after that. He has been pretty quiet of late, but WWW (wealth winder woman) calls him nightly and they talk for hours.  I happened to over hear them the other night as I was going in to say, "Good Night, I Love You", and they were busy plotting to find me a boyfriend.  If nothing else it keeps them entertained, and who the heck knows what miracles await...   

I have been blessed with much, and am truly thankful for those wonderful blessings.

Wishing you a Thanksgiving full of Family, Faith, Hope & Love.   

Brig

Burn't biscuits...

Ike and I have a lot in common at the moment, neither one of us seem to know which end is up.

I have slowed up on the biscuit trials for a while, giving Dad's stomach a chance to recover from my past endeavors.

Opened the dishwasher to have the door slam into my leg. Well hell, that smarted! The door spring had busted. No one within 50 miles had replacement parts.  Ordered the parts online and they have arrived. Now to remove the kick plate and install the new spring and door linkage. Should be a snap...

Got an estimate from the gardener that used to do Mom's pruning. Say what, you want how much just to do the front! I would have had to severely deplete one of my emergency funds in order to afford that guy.  If I take it one section at a time and stay on task I should have most of it done by the time I'm 70.  

Some people get to go on ride-about on tropical islands, some people get to stay home and McGyver and wack brush, and burn biscuits... (grins) 

Ike, who is quite the character, is my nephew's pup

Hurry up & wait...

Normally, if there is a normal here, Dad hosts the Old Farts poker game, every other Thursday. Usually there are 5 to 9 players... depending on what the weather is like and how bad their golf game was that day.

Since he was having a vocal cord biopsy done on Thursday this week he switched the game to Wed night.  While I was paying bills, and cleaning out the garage, Dad was busy sharing the wealth with his compadres... They drink a little beer, and being well mannered gentlemen never touch my bottles of Kilt Lifter, or Guinness.  They eat most of the snacks put out... which range from warm Brie with craft bread to little smokies in grape jelly/BBQ sauce. I like them, so no biscuits are served.  They all love Jill's Pepper Jelly over cream cheese with crackers... thanks to Jill's mom Jody!  "Hi Jody!"

Thursday, was a long day for Dad. I got him checked into the hospital at noon, with the biopsy scheduled for 2.  With the comedy of errors that followed... he didn't have the procedure til 6:30PM.  After they released him, I drove him home, fed him his milkshake, and put him to bed at 9:45PM.

Dad's surgeon, says we have to wait for the path report, but he is pretty certain it's cancer. Good news is that it is small, and should respond very well to radiation, with a 95% cure rate.

Dad is up this morning causing trouble, doing well, and in no pain.  I'll take that.

Thanks...

Veterans Day...

For me to thank him for his service seems so trite, but to have the guys he served with thank him is Huge. 

I pray that he finds honor in all that he has done to save lives.  

He is still active duty.  He is a Veteran of multiple deployments in harms way. 

He's a young man, who has seen the worst of war and the best of men.

   

I pray that the Father watches over him. Doc O is my grandson.

Doc O on the far left, "he did more for us than most people will ever know. Thanks". 

- J Lloyd

Top Ten...

If you are going to be The woman on the ranch, here are the top 10 "facts" you need to know!  by Julie Carter

1. Always load your horse last in the trailer so it is the first one unloaded. By the time he's got his horse unloaded, you will have your cinch pulled and be mounted up ready to go - lessening the chance of him riding off without you with your horse trying to follow while you are still trying to get your foot in the stirrup.

2. Never - and I repeat never - ever believe the phrase "We'll be right back," when he has asked you to help him do something out on the ranch. The echoing words, "this will only take a little while" have filtered through generations of ranch wives and still today should invoke sincere distrust in the woman who hears them.

3. Always know there is NO romantic intention when he pleadingly asks you to take a ride in the pickup with him around the ranch while he checks water and looks at cattle. What that sweet request really means is he wants someone to open and close the gates.

4. He will always expect you to quickly be able to find one stray in a four-section brush-covered pasture, but he will never be able to find the mayonnaise jar in four-square feet of refrigerator.

5. Count every head of everything you see - cattle especially, but sometimes horses, deer, quail or whatever moves. Count it in the gate, out the gate or on the horizon. The first time you don't count is when he will have expected that you did. That blank eyelash-batting look you give him when he asks "How many?" will not be acceptable.

6. Know that you will never be able to ride a horse or drive a pickup to suit him. Given the choice of jobs, choose throwing the feed off the back of the pickup. If he is on the back and you are driving, the opportunity for constant criticism of speed, ability and your eyesight will be utilized to the full extent. "How in the *@*# could you NOT see that hole?"

7. Never let yourself be on foot in the alley when he is sorting cattle horseback. When he has shoved 20 head of running, bucking, kicking yearlings at you and then hollers "Hold 'em, hold 'em" at the top of his lungs, don't think that you really can do it without injury. Contrary to what he will lead you to believe, walking back to the house is always an option that has been used throughout time.

8. Don't expect him to correctly close the snap-on tops on the plastic refrigerator containers, but know he will expect you to always close every gate. His reasoning, the cows will get out; the food will not.

9. Always praise him when he helps in the kitchen - the very same way he does when you help with the ranch work - or not.

10. Know that when you step out of the house you move from the "wife" department to "hired hand" status. Although the word "hired" indicates there will be a paycheck that you will never see, rest assured you will have job security. The price is just right. And most of the time you will be "the best help he has" even if it is because you are the ONLY help he has.

Hunt'n biscuits...

Still hunt'n success with the biscuit mak'n, but dang if I'm not gett'n closer.  The batch I made today, are taller, fluffier, and just a tad over baked.

Dad said they are great, but then he's not the best judge as he's been eat'n biscuit pucks for a while now...

***

My Oregon family have filled all their tags this hunting season.  They've done well at making sure their families have meat for the winter. I offered them some of my biscuits, but they wisely said they already had all the ammo they needed...

***

Meanwhile, back here we can now see SNOW on Mt. Lassen...

 and our usual small town normal...

Biscuits...

In honor of All Saints Day I got out the biscuit recipes and told Dad he was in for a real surprise. "I'm mak'n biscuits for breakfast," I said with all the bravado of someone that knows there be dragons, biscuit dragons to be exact. Dad must have forgotten my last attempt, or his love of biscuits overshadowed his memory.

I've been working at making decent biscuits for quite some time, and failing for quite some time.  Undaunted, I proceeded to put together Brigid's  (Home on the Range blog) Buttermilk Biscuit recipe. I know this makes awesome biscuits as she is a fantastic cook!  I did sub Kefir for buttermilk cause that's what I had and her recipe for Kefir pancakes is Dad and my favorite.  
Put it together and baked it according to the recipe.  And Presto Change O... we had pip'n hot pucks fresh out of the oven...

Dad said, they were sure interesting look'n, and after one bite slipped the rest to Willie, who promptly ran off to cough'm up in private.

Still undaunted, or just plain hard headed, I threw that batch over the back fence and started another batch. Dad said not to bother on his account as he was full!

Different recipe for this batch, from the Norse Nook and no subbing...

I made these just as the recipe said, put'm in the oven and Presto Change O... we had pip'n hot square wagon wheels...

 Dad, bless his heart, gave it one more try.  He said these were a little better, Willie just ran off kiyaying. I asked Dad what he really thought. He thought it was a good thing that he already had his will done...