Sunday, July 31, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Biscuits, Beef and Berries
Several months ago I wrote about growing up in the country. Today's experiences had me relive those days.
My mom invited me to breakfast this morning. Catherine was to come to my house early so I could help her clean up her nasty, filthy, stincky truck, so we decided to go to breakfast first then come home and clean the truck. She arrived at my house at 6:30 (we were not due at mom's until 8:00) by using the hidden key and jumping in the middle of my bed. She could have been shot. Note to Catherine...'I do not do 6:30a.m. in the summer time.'
Biscuits....My mom makes the best biscuits in the whole wide world. I have always said that God put her on earth to make biscuits. Oh and the gravy. YUMMO!!!!!And then there are the fresh eggs. You cannot beat eggs fresh from the chicken. There is just something so different about them. I really feel sorry for people who don't get to experience a breakfast like this on occasion. Thank you God for the little things I take for granted.
My nephew, Noah, joined us for breakfast. He had been invited for another reason. Yesterday's terrible thunder storm had caused a death on the farm. One of dad's cows was struck by lightning. We actually think the lightning hit the fence and somehow hit the cow. Now, if you have never seen a cow that has been struck by lightning, you are missing out. For some reason, the carcass will immediately swell and become extremely stiff and his eyes will be wide opened. (Catherine had the privilege of closing them.) Said cow was down near the creek which left no way to get him closer to the barn, so dad, Catherine and Noah headed to the creek, shovels and picks in hand, to dig a grave and bury the poor cow. It took them 3 hours. The ground at mom and dad's is solid rock so I am sure the digging was not easy. Oh, mom and I opted to stay at the house and offer moral support from afar. We are not much into dead animals and maggots. Dad, being almost 81, took his little portable stool for resting. Now don't get me wrong, my dad can hang with the best of 'em. He can out do me at anything. Just ask him....Anyway, if it had not been for Catherine and Noah, I am sure mom and I would have been right there with the digging. A great BIG thank you to Catherine and Noah. I mean really BIG, even bigger than that. As BIG as BIG can get.
While they were completing their little deed, mom and I picked blackberries, picked green tomatoes and peppers (for today's chow-chow project), and then we washed Catherine's truck.
We were just finishing up the truck when our little soldiers came out of the woods. Catherine first with a huge smile and dirt from ear to ear. She was scratching her bug bitten legs and collapsed on the ground. Next came Noah, expressionless as he headed straight to the house. We soon discovered that while hoisting the cow into the grave, Noah had somehow managed to get a few maggots on his leg. This kinda grossed him out and he headed straight to the shower. His new name?????Maggot Boy. Love that kid. Last came my dad. He has a chair tied to the picnic table and that is where he landed. He was soaking wet. My dad wears a white undershirt and a longsleeved button up shirt 365 days a year. Always has...Always will. Oh, the chair tied to the table thing? He has lost more than one chair to wind so he solved that problem.
One of Catherine's friends commented on facebook that this was one of the most Hillbilly things he had ever heard of. Maybe...Maybe it is "hillbilly" to bury a cow. But what else is there to do? There is a book we read each year in my class titled "Weasel". One of the quotes from the book I always remember is " the difference between civilized men and savages is that civilized men bury there dead". My dad is a very civilized man. He has always taken care of his animals. Even in death. So, if being in the country burying a cow, picking wild blackberries, eating the best biscuits in the world makes you a Hillbilly, then just call me Ellie Mae.
My mom invited me to breakfast this morning. Catherine was to come to my house early so I could help her clean up her nasty, filthy, stincky truck, so we decided to go to breakfast first then come home and clean the truck. She arrived at my house at 6:30 (we were not due at mom's until 8:00) by using the hidden key and jumping in the middle of my bed. She could have been shot. Note to Catherine...'I do not do 6:30a.m. in the summer time.'
Biscuits....My mom makes the best biscuits in the whole wide world. I have always said that God put her on earth to make biscuits. Oh and the gravy. YUMMO!!!!!And then there are the fresh eggs. You cannot beat eggs fresh from the chicken. There is just something so different about them. I really feel sorry for people who don't get to experience a breakfast like this on occasion. Thank you God for the little things I take for granted.
My nephew, Noah, joined us for breakfast. He had been invited for another reason. Yesterday's terrible thunder storm had caused a death on the farm. One of dad's cows was struck by lightning. We actually think the lightning hit the fence and somehow hit the cow. Now, if you have never seen a cow that has been struck by lightning, you are missing out. For some reason, the carcass will immediately swell and become extremely stiff and his eyes will be wide opened. (Catherine had the privilege of closing them.) Said cow was down near the creek which left no way to get him closer to the barn, so dad, Catherine and Noah headed to the creek, shovels and picks in hand, to dig a grave and bury the poor cow. It took them 3 hours. The ground at mom and dad's is solid rock so I am sure the digging was not easy. Oh, mom and I opted to stay at the house and offer moral support from afar. We are not much into dead animals and maggots. Dad, being almost 81, took his little portable stool for resting. Now don't get me wrong, my dad can hang with the best of 'em. He can out do me at anything. Just ask him....Anyway, if it had not been for Catherine and Noah, I am sure mom and I would have been right there with the digging. A great BIG thank you to Catherine and Noah. I mean really BIG, even bigger than that. As BIG as BIG can get.
While they were completing their little deed, mom and I picked blackberries, picked green tomatoes and peppers (for today's chow-chow project), and then we washed Catherine's truck.
We were just finishing up the truck when our little soldiers came out of the woods. Catherine first with a huge smile and dirt from ear to ear. She was scratching her bug bitten legs and collapsed on the ground. Next came Noah, expressionless as he headed straight to the house. We soon discovered that while hoisting the cow into the grave, Noah had somehow managed to get a few maggots on his leg. This kinda grossed him out and he headed straight to the shower. His new name?????Maggot Boy. Love that kid. Last came my dad. He has a chair tied to the picnic table and that is where he landed. He was soaking wet. My dad wears a white undershirt and a longsleeved button up shirt 365 days a year. Always has...Always will. Oh, the chair tied to the table thing? He has lost more than one chair to wind so he solved that problem.
One of Catherine's friends commented on facebook that this was one of the most Hillbilly things he had ever heard of. Maybe...Maybe it is "hillbilly" to bury a cow. But what else is there to do? There is a book we read each year in my class titled "Weasel". One of the quotes from the book I always remember is " the difference between civilized men and savages is that civilized men bury there dead". My dad is a very civilized man. He has always taken care of his animals. Even in death. So, if being in the country burying a cow, picking wild blackberries, eating the best biscuits in the world makes you a Hillbilly, then just call me Ellie Mae.
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