Archive: August 2010

Tom’s Birthday

One of the great things about this website is that we get to honor those special cowboys and cowgirls who have touched our lives in a meaningful way.

It seems tradition here in America to place a special significance on “completed decades,” and Tom has reached the end of his sixth. But the wisdom he’s gained and the compassion he gives reaches beyond those 60 years. Here’s my husband and daughter trying to glean a little wisdom from Tom at a branding.

Today I’m honoring a true cattleman. (Charlotte called her Dad a stockman…It’s the same term and describes someone who’s beyond a cowboy or a buckaroo. He’s a horseman, a boss, a patriarch, a businessman, a steward of the range… A person earns that title through the dust, sweat, and tears of life, but mostly by the respect of others. Tom’s exemplifies that title. (I love this photo: Everyone else gets to ride…Tom gets the gates -and it’s his cows. That’s part of what I’m talking about when I give the title of cattleman.)

His sister Susan composed this great little rhyme for his invitation.

She knows him well by implying he wouldn’t want much of a big tadoo, but he was surprised at the party, and he was pleased, you could tell by the genuine smile on his face. Of course he was also two hours late, but that didn’t matter because everyone’s used to going on without him while he’s out checking a cow or mending a fence…on this day he was taking his grandson’s steer to the fair for weigh-in…(Always a good excuse.) In this photo he and his grandson, Blake, are branding a calf.

Tom’s buried under his grandkids there somewhere. They love their “Pops.”

I could write a book, and it wouldn’t do justice to Tom, so you’ll have to settle for a few small glimpses and a limited amount of words……Come to think about it, “a limited amount of words” might be the best way to describe him. (His wonderful wife, Marva, and anyone who has ever worked cows with him are all laughing hysterically as I write that comment. I know…I’ve heard the stories…and I’ve ridden with him.)

Happy Birthday, Tom

“May the Lord bless thee and keep thee, May the Lord make his face to shine upon thee.”
From Sage, Aspen, Kathy & Rob and the rest of your fans here at Cowgirl Clippings

Sew Perfect Kitchen Island

My aunt Karen had a kitchen island made from a butcher block set on the base of an old treddle sewing machine years ago. My Mom always wanted one, and she’s finally got it! She never was able to locate a reasonably priced traditional butcher block, so they finally went for a thick board made of smaller oak boards laminated together.

It’s really as simple and wonderful as it looks. Perfect for kitchens that are too small for most pre-built islands. Plus my Dad -who has a hitch in his get-a-long these days, says it works better than a cane to get around the kitchen.

My girls love to play under it, but watch out for little fingers in the cogs! Kath

Welcome to Needles View Ranch

When Chelsea shared her vision for a blog with me a year ago, my mind took off with all the possibilities of sharing our cowgirl lives with the world! We spent hours on the phone sharing ideas for the design and even more time talking about all the posts we could include. And at the time I whole-heartedly committed to helping out…..well, I flopped in my responsibilities. I’ve been busy living out the cowgirl life this summer (a certain cute little tike named Sage kept me very busy all last summer); So I’ve just been sitting back enjoying reading Chelsea’s posts along with everyone else. But now that her computer is kapootzzz, I’m really feeling like I need to be like one of those wonderful friends she mentioned a month ago that came to her rescue, and like Charlotte -who’s obviously not a slacker like me.

So, on that note, let me introduce you to the ranch that built me…and Chelsea…and Margaux…and Robin…and a zillion others (well, not a zillion, but alot, many, tons of others.)

It’s located in the heart of Idaho in a grassy mountain valley.

The heart and soul of the ranch are my parents, Paul and Gretel. Dad’s dad settled here after leaving Germany after the turn of the century, so he was born and raised on this place. And Dad picked Mom up when he traveled on a winter trip through California (She’s an original California Valley Girl). She and Dad have reached out their hands together on this ranch with true western hospitality and Christian charity towards all who come for almost 50 years.

As I said earlier, Chelsea, Margaux, and Robin cut their teeth cowboyin’ here. I dug up this old photo of Chelsea cutting a cow on Margaux’s horse, Harley. (I don’t think either one of them has ever seen this photo . I procrastinated at ever getting Chels a copy, but now they have these great scanners and the internet. Yea for technology! sometimes…)

Anyway, Needles View Ranch claims its name from the rocky peaks that rise like needles to the East of our ranch.

It’s a beautiful place to raise cows, horses, and kids. I can’t wait to “show and tell” some more.

Breakfast at Emily’s: Apple Pie

Today as I type this I am lying in a tent in a friend’s yard. We’ve been camping here since Sunday night. We told Clayton we were camping for his birthday but really it’s because we can’t go home. Our house flooded this weekend. We had a diaper sprayer (a hose and nozzle hooked up to the toilet’s water supply to help rinse cloth diapers off into the toilet) malfunction, break, lose its nozzle and spray water all over the bathroom and adjoining rooms for about 20 hours until our neighbor noticed there was water running out of the house and down our foundation and gave us a call.
Needless to say, I am getting all new flooring and who knows what else at this point in time.
It’s been quite the month for us but we’re enjoying God’s peace and provision.

A week ago or so…before our adventures, a neighbor, the same neighbor who called us about our leak, brought over a bag of apples from the tree in their yard and so we made apple pie for breakfast.

I personally don’t see anything wrong with eating pie for breakfast; it’s a lot healthier than some breakfast options, at least if you try it this way.
Pie was one of the first things I ever learned to cook. It wasn’t till I got married and realized that you can’t live on pie alone that I learned to cook full meals. It’s a good thing I’ve got this recipe memorized; I’m not sure where my cookbooks are right now.
This is my favorite pie crust recipe. I like simple and easy.

Pie Crust, makes 2 crusts
2/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons butter, softened
2 cups flour
1 tsp. salt
4-5 tablespoons ice water

I made one and a half batches of this dough, just so that maybe I could make some pie dough cookies but alas, between the kids, my husband and my sister, who was visiting, we ate all the extra dough. We’re dough eaters, what can I say?

Put butter in a large mixing bowl.

Add flour and salt.

Mix with pastry blender until dough resembles pea-sized crumbs.

Add water.

Mix and form into a ball.

Roll out all the dough on a floured surface (I love my pastry cloth; it’s one of my favorite things).

I know a few weeks ago we learned the fun trick of rolling the dough around your rolling pin but I’ve always done it this way:

Fold in half.

Fold again.

Pick up and set in pie plate and unfold it.

Let extra dough just hangout over the side for a while.

Take bowl and skin and cut up your apples. Enough to pile nicely in the pie dish.

Add about 2-3 tablespoons maple syrup, 1 tsp. cinnamon, a dash of nutmeg and about ¼ cup flour.

Mix all together and dump them into the pie plate. Or artfully arrange them if you prefer to do it that way.

Fold dough up and around the apples, leaving a hole in the top middle area. This saves you from having to roll out two crusts and makes it that much easier.

Bake at 350 degrees for 30-35 minutes or until dough is golden.

Let cool slightly.

Cut, eat and enjoy.

Or if you want to make this the night before you can let it cool, refrigerate overnight, and eat it in the morning, maybe with a little milk or cream poured over the top.

Fruit, bread and not a lot of sugar…sounds better than most breakfast pastries, I don’t know why pie isn’t serve for breakfast more often.

Maybe we can change that.

Tonsil Update

A quick tonsil update!!

We all made it through Lucy’s tonsil surgery. She was a CHAMP and did awesome. It was really hard for me to hand her off to the surgery team, but Buck was strong when I was weak so it all worked out. She snuggled right in with us after it was all over and despite a pretty funny, hopefully short-lived voice change, Lucy is doing great.

She’s doing great, but did end up with a little crack in her lip, apparently from when they held her mouth open to do the surgery, and this is her biggest concern about the whole thing. The way they do the operation now doesn’t leave big open sores where the tonsils were, so it’s not so painful. (YAY!) She slept all the way home from the city (no snoring! no struggling! DOUBLE YAY!) and when we made it home, she wanted a sandwich. She ate the whole thing. I was all stocked up on popsicles and she wants sandwiches. After she ate her sandwich, she wanted to go run around outside. I mandated that she stay inside. The child just had surgery- I needed to snuggle with her and stuff. Anyway, she slept great last night and we’re all excited about her future with a completely open airway.

–Chelsea

P.S. I still don’t have internet access at my house (boo!), so I continue to apologize for the slow down in posting….will hopefully be back up and running soon ;-)

Fresh Salsa

by Charlotte

I like to make salsa this time of year.

I start with beautiful tomatoes.

About 5.

I peel them.

Slice them up. If you are feeling really traditional, seed them also.

Chop some cilantro.

About 1/4 bunch (unless your family likes cilantro).

Dice four green onions.

Mince three cloves of garlic.

Add lemon juice, salt, and pepper to taste.

If you like traditional salsa, add one or two jalapenos. I use chili peppers whenever I decide to use peppers. (As you can tell, I deviate from traditional here.)

Throw the ingredients all in a bowl, stir, and let sit 30 minutes to blend the flavors.

Enjoy.

Goodbye, Tonsils!

So… over the last few months I’ve mentioned things like pre-op tonsil appointments and upcoming tonsil surgery and such. Well, today is the big tonsillectomy and I feel like telling you all about it. Hang in there with me as there’s a story involved in addition to a couple of interjections. Sometimes getting to the point is a process for me so just relax and enjoy the story…. or scroll at your leisure.

Before I go into details about the reasoning behind this surgery, I’d like to here and now interject something. There are a lot of medical things that I would REALLY love to tell you about. I’d certainly like to use this Come On Over section to tell you about each and every baby delivery I assist with. I love my job as a nurse, and every time I help with a delivery, I want to write all about it and tell you the things I found most interesting with regards to that particular one. But I can’t. Our town is too small. HIPPA would frown on it. If you’re not familiar with HIPPA, google it for extensive afternoon reading. It’ll be a blast.

That being said, I find it very limiting that the only medical things I can write about are those that pertain to our family. I desperately want to write more and I can’t. Bummer. Deal.

So… the surgery. I know what you’re thinking: having recurrent infections and frequent sicknesses necessitates having her tonsils out. Nope. She’s one of the healthiest kids on the planet. Rarely sick. Although it does take her quite awhile to get well when she does fall ill. The problem? I’ll have to tell you a story before we get to the direct answer to that question.

It was early spring. A few calves were on the ground. Buck educated Lucy about the term “scours” while out doctoring calves one day (commercial break: calf scours= calf diarrhea). After this educational opportunity, the two of them happened to be in the house and Buck happened to find a container of caramel sauce for apple dipping. He dipped apples in it and when Lucy asked what he was eating, he said “calf scours”. She thought this was super funny and soon joined in the “scour eating” adventure. Only a dad, I tell you, only a dad. Lucy would take a big bite of apple dipped in the ”scours” and say ”oooo… icky! yuck!” Then she would swallow and repeat the process. You get the idea. I was minding my own business doing something really important, I’m sure, and our little offspring ran over to me and said, “Look Mama! Icky!” and stuck her tongue out and said, “Ahhhhh”. To which, I said, with all seriousness and concern, ”Oh my gosh! Keep your mouth open!” To which Lucy said with all seriousness and conern, ”Not willy calf scours, Mama.” Due to the title and nature of this post, you might be able to guess what I saw- HUGE tonsils. Red. Inflamed. Vascular. So big you couldn’t stick a pencil between them. (Not that I tried, I’m just giving you a visual in regards to my assesment.)

Right then and there, the entire past year came together in a nice little nutshell for us. The reason for all of our sleepless nights that had nothing to do with having an infant in the house. I can’t tell you how many times in the past year I’ve seen every hour on the clock go by (and I wasn’t at work or being paid!). I knew Lucy snored and I knew she slept in a “sniffing”, open-your-airway sort of position. I also knew she woke up several times each and every night and she was dripping in sweat. Unfortunately, this acutely aware and observant nurse didn’t think to look at my daughter’s tonsils… or at least not until calf scours were involved.

So… after a few doctor appointments and consultations, she’s going in, this very morning, to have the large airway-obstructing-glands removed. Unfortunately, our local hospital, the one I love, the one where I know and have total trust in the surgery team, doesn’t do tonsillectomies. Bummer. Deal. So… we’re in the city. And I’m a nervous mom. Please read Verse Of The Week now.

We’d be most appreciative if you’d pray for an uncomplicated surgery and a speedy recovery! Thank you!

–Chelsea

Verse Of The Week

Please see: Goodbye Tonsils for complete understanding of this choice of scripture for this particular day.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7

My New Exercise Program

by Charlotte

I started running this week with my oldest daughter. She likes to run and I wanted to find a way to spend time with just her. So I decided to start running with her. I don’t know if we will continue this once the weather changes or not. For now we run – well for two days we’ve run.

I don’t feel better after I run. I would rather go back to bed. Instead I have to cook breakfast.

We are also trying to finish building our pole arena. We had two men helping us when we put the poles up on the first side. Now it is just me and my man. And our four kids.

After two days of running in the morning with my daughter and building pole fence with my husband, I am more than a little tired and a little sore. As I crippled out to the fence this morning, pulling my two youngest in a wagon, I kept telling myself how good all this exercise was for me.

I was going to post a picture of the fence for you, but that would require walking out to the fence and that just isn’t going to happen right now. :)

Breakfast at Emily’s: French Bread

I could eat an entire loaf of this bread, I love it that much.

Not that I’ve tried or anything…

I don’t make it very often for that reason and also because it is a yeast bread. Yeast bread makes my son Clayton itch all over. So mostly I use this bread for bartering.

Yep. I said bartering.

Do you have anything I need? I’ll bake you a loaf or two.

I’m including this in breakfast recipes because it also makes wonderful french toast. Sliced thick and then dipped and cooked and drizzled with maple syrup….mmmm…yummy. Alas, I do not have pictures of the french toast because I have not made it in a very long time and I did not get to eat these loaves that modeled for me. They were bartered away.

This recipe is passed down from my mom. For my bridal shower the women of my parents’ church (and also, therefore, the church I grew up in) put together a cookbook of their favorite recipes. I’m so glad this one was included, or I might have had to go on a covert mission in the middle of the night to raid my mother’s recipe box. Or I suppose I could have just asked her for it. That would have worked, too. Either way, I am now passing it along to you.

With soup, made into sandwiches, fresh from the oven, or made into french toast, may you enjoy it any way you decide to use it.

FRENCH BREAD

2 1/2 cups warm water

2 Tablespoons sugar

2 Tablespoons yeast

1 Tablespoon salt

2 Tablespoons butter, softened

6 cups flour

Dissolve yeast in water, with sugar, in large mixing bowl.

Add salt, butter and 3 cups flour and beat well for a few minutes.

Mix in remaining flour until well blended. Allow mixture to stand 10 minutes., then stir.

Let stand 10 minutes and stir again.

Do this 5 times total.

I use magnets to help me keep track of how many times I’ve stirred and let it stand. I start with five magnets on the counter and every time I finish a “cycle” I put a magnet back on the fridge. When I put the last magnet on the fridge I know it’s time to move on.

Place dough on lightly floured surface.

Divide dough in half.

Roll each half into a rectangle about 18 x 12 inches. Roll up starting at the long side. Pinch edges together and place seam side down on a cookie sheet sprinkled with cornmeal (I use flour as we’ve got kids with corn allergies, too). Somehow I ended up with pictures of the magnets but no explanation pictures for this part. You’re smart, I’m sure you can figure it out. Put both loaves on one cookie sheet.

Cover lightly and let rise for 30 minutes. With a sharp knife, slash top of each loaf diagonally in 3 places. Brush with egg wash (1 egg plus 1 tsp. water, beaten together)