June

Once upon a time there was a farm that had chickens. The chickens were bad. Bad, bad, chickens. They were always freaking out the farmer's wife by hiding under the deck and squawking loudly when she came out to water her flowers. One day the farmer came into his wife's kitchen and said, "I am going to butcher the chickens... they are the worse chickens we have ever had! They eat way too many eggs and I can't break them of that habit. I'm not going to feed them if they are all eating eggs."

The farmer's wife was not too happy. She liked fresh eggs but she knew that there weren't enough eggs to keep them. Sadly she watched Hubby and her daughter cut the heads off each and every chicken.

The farmer came into the house and said that he would smoke the chickens in his smoker and so for a whole week there were eleven chickens soaking in a roaster with yummy marinade. The farmer's wife cut her losses and began to look forward to trying the smoked chicken. Finally when the chickens were smoked, the farmer and the farmer's wife were very pleased that the smoked chicken tasted so good. The farmer's daughters both said, "yum yum," to the smoked chicken and they all knew that it was very good.

The farmer's wife began to plan for next year's chickens and the joy of fresh eggs and more yummy smoked chicken. She began to look up websites where she could buy new chicks. One day, the farmer's wife was looking out the window and noticed something strange. Tootsie, the wonder chicken herder, was staring under the deck. The farmer's wife wondered what the chicken herding dog was staring at, when out from under the deck came a very smart dumb cluck. Dumb cluck because all chickens are dumb. Smart because she managed to avoid the ax and survive for a whole week with no food. So the smart dumb cluck was named June by the farmer's wife and lives happily ever after in the barn with the sheep. She is in love with the ram's belly and the ram seems to have taken to her. The farmer's wife saves scraps for June and feeds her tidbits from the kitchen. The daughters are happy to have a pet chicken and the farmer scowls at the chicken and says things like.... "I'm not hooking up a heat lamp for her," and, "she is going to have to survive on her own," and," I should cut her head off."

But the farmer's wife just smiles, knowing that the farmer will suffer the chicken through the winter with heat lamps and feed. And so the farmer's wife waits patiently for June, the month, to come at which time she will borrow a rooster in the hopes that June, the chicken, will have a brood of chicks yet!

Blank Page Syndrome

Sometimes when I sit down to write here I think, "what have I got to say that other people will want to read about". That's when blank page syndrome hits me in earnest. I sit here with my hands poised over the keyboard and suddenly I'm without a thing to say... at least of any value. One day of Blank Page syndrome doesn't bother me but when you run into three or four days of it... well, it makes you wonder what you are doing, or not doing to be so boring.

So, for the last few days I have had a serious Blank Page syndrome and thought I would fill the void with some of the photos that Hubby and I have taken over the years. Then a recipe thrown in was ok too. But this seems to be an ongoing problem, so when you see reams of pictures you know that my brain has gone south for a holiday.

So on that note and feeling like I really don't have much else to say that's humorous, or interesting, or of any known value in the universe, I will post a few more pictures today.

The Annual Chili Cook-off

We didn't get as many as we hoped for but we did have our annual chili cook-off. St. Peter's Church hosted a Chili cook-off which we hope to have every year. The idea is to have people make pots of Chili and bring to the event to be judged by those who buy tickets to our event. The tickets were $10 with kids eating free. You receive a bowl and two pennies at the door. The bowl is yours to take home and the pennies are your vote. We had a hoot and the pots of Chili were great. I didn't think it would happen because I was up against some pretty stiff competition, but I won.... hands down. Here's my Chili recipe... which really isn't a recipe at all.... Mom made chili when she was young and put frozen corn into it by accident and I've been doing that ever since.... I throw a whole lot of whatever in my chili.... as you will see.

Frankie's Chili
Two small packs of Ground beef and two sirloin steaks cubed into 1/2 inch squares (this is best done when still a little frozen)
The sirloin helps to add to the flavour
2 beef oxo cubes or packets
two onions (best when garden fresh)
brown meat and onions at same time
salt to taste and pepper to taste.
chop red and green peppers 2 of each (substitute a yellow one for a red one if you want more colour)
two cans of mushrooms or the equivalent in fresh (fresh are better)
two cans of tomato paste
two sm cans of tomato sauce
two cans of red kidney beans
1/4 bottle salsa
1/4 bag of frozen corn niblets
Now this is where I have fun!
chili powder to taste (I used a lot but mine was old and had lost the flavour... about a 1/4 c. You may want to tone it down if you are using fresh chili powder)
honey 2 tbsp (use more if you are using lots of chili powder it helps take the edge off the bitterness)
cinnamon very small amount..... 1/2 tsp-ish
a little garlic crushed 1/2 tsp-ish
a smidge of lemon juice
cayenne pepper (don't want too much of this as it will burn your lips) 1 tsp-ish
1 1/2 tsp tobasco
sometimes I'll throw in a few chopped tomatoes (better when skinned)

Let this all simmer for a few hours and voila.... yummy!

More Inspirational Photos

Here are a few more pictures that Hubby and I have taken over the years.

Inspirational

Over the years Hubby and I have played amateur photographer. These are some of my favorite photos taken in the last five years. I hope you find them as inspirational as I do....

Dust Bunnies

I have dust bunnies. I'm sure this is really not all that astounding as I'm also sure that most of the people who read this blog have dust bunnies too. I have always lived with dust bunnies and no doubt will continue to live with them all the rest of my life. However, every so once in a while, my dust bunnies grow teeth and start biting at my ankles. That's when I have to liberate my house of some of the dust bunnies that tend to indeed enjoy living under my table, my stove, my china cabinet, and any other dark corner they can find their way into.

I think I have a pretty good relationship with my dust bunnies and am quite content for them to be there if only they will hide away when company comes to call. But recent events are leading me to believe that my dust bunnies are rebelling and mocking me behind my back.

Now it came to pass that a friend, who doesn't come to call very often and is the epitome of a neat freak, came to my house in an effort to be friendly. While visiting, I had the horror of all horrors as the furnace cut in and one of my dust bunnies, who was in a rebellious mood, decided to creep out from under its hidey hole and make its way across the floor with my forced air furnace helping it drift along. Luckily, my neat freak friend was back on to this episode of dust bunny frivolity. That's when Daughter #1's kitten decided to make its entry into the living room via the steps leading to the upper regions of our domain. It spotted the rebellious dust bunny and decided that this was something good to play with. The dust bunny would drift along slowly with Kitty pouncing on it every so often. (The cat does not have a good relationship with dust bunnies and tries to eat them regularly). That's when Toots, the wonder chicken herder decided to investigate. Meanwhile I was quite content to keep my friend engaged in conversation so that she wouldn't notice the drama unfolding behind her. Toots as you know loves to play with his chicken and even more loves to play with felted woolen balls that I make for him. I knew what was about to happen. Toots took it into his head that the dust bunny that Kitty was playing with was his old ball. Meanwhile Kitty thought that the drifting dust bunny was his. This led to a fight as Kitty and Toots tried to lay claim to what should have stayed under the cabinet where it had been. With a screech and a yowl, all attention focused on Toots, who by this time had had his nose ripped, and Kitty, who was licking his claws, and a somewhat wet and mangled dust bunny lying directly in the middle of the floor. I quickly grabbed a napkin from the table and acted like I couldn't believe where a ball of fluffy dirt would have come from. How on earth could this have happened!


Leave it to dust bunnies to inform others of what a poor housekeeper you are. Toots is most upset that the dust bunny that he thought was his ball is now in the garbage and Kitty well he doesn't give a damn....

I wonder if there are any other dust bunnies feeling rebellious.

The Long And Winding Road

I love paths. I always have. I remember as a child I would spend hours in my backyard making paths in newly fallen snow, then, when it snowed again, which it did quite frequently in Newfoundland, I would spend hours following the indentations in the snow where I had made the path in the first place. Yesterday, while I was making my bed I happened to glance out the window and saw a path winding away into the bush. This path is not an unfamiliar path to me, I have walked it many times. But yesterday it looked so inviting that I thought I would take a picture of it. (The ongoing dizziness prevented me from following it). I love the look of winding paths and I love the way it feels to walk down one. There's always a sense of the unexpected around the next turn.

When Hubby and I moved here we were delighted to find that the original wagon trail that the pioneers used to get to HH wound it's way through our property. To the east, the trail is covered with other people's property and is hard to find in among the fields and streets that cover it, but it is there. To the west though the trail is very distinctive. The old wagon trail has become a new quad trail and I walk it frequently. However the trail that you see in the picture is nothing more than a deer trail that my kids follow when they are going to their fort. It is a happy little trail that winds its way through our property and ends up at the fence of our neighbour's property. From there you can follow the fence line and somewhere in the bush down there we have a little spot with a firepit and a nice place to stop.

I can't help thinking that trails are rather like life. There is the main one that you follow every day of your life but then branching off are all the little trails that have the potential to become the main trail. If you look behind you can see all the little trails that you didn't take and kept right on going past. They are all winding and sometimes they connect with other people's trails. Sometimes several people follow the same trail. It's cool (did I just date myself using that word?) to see the trail ahead of you and know that there are others following the same trail, but sometimes it is nice to get off the beaten path and follow the road less traveled.
I think that is why I like paths because there is so much opportunity to see what lies ahead, to share the path with a friend, and ultimately to walk down the path without hesitation, whether it be the path of life or just a path in the woods.

My path, the one that I took the picture of, was never so clear as yesterday with the newly fallen snow making it more apparent. And though I've walked that trail a hundred times I never really saw it before. It took looking out the window and seeing it from a different vantage point to realize how wonderful it actually is.

And so you see, when I see the opportunity to take a picture of a winding path, I take it. It is because they are so inviting to me and a little bit of a curiosity that I love them so. Next time you see a trail or path, maybe you will think, "Ah here's a trail like the one Frankie was taking about", and with any luck, if you follow that trail you will be led to something interesting, something that ultimately makes your life a little nicer. Because sometimes its the little paths that you don't see so well that lead you to the great things in life.

Happy trails to you.....