The Front Porch Swing

[Blooie]

I have a friend who was born and raised out on a ranch here in Wyoming. He went off to college and now lives in Cheyenne, but always managed to make time with his dad and brother back on the ranch to elk hunt the opening week for his area. Dad got old and crippled up some with arthritis, so for the last 10 years or so he would sit in the truck while the "youngsters" would go out and hike the mountain. He knew where the elk would sneak down the draw to avoid the hunters and every year the old man filled his tag. He had installed a winch inside the bed of his truck so he could load the elk by himself. One year, the 2 boys came down off the mountain and Dad didn't have his elk. Dad claimed there must not have been any elk up there cause nothing came through. The boys didn't let on, but knew Dad had been asleep most of the day out there. The elk tracks completely circled the truck. You could see the tracks of an elk that had walked up to the truck and it had to have looked in the window at dear ole sleeping Dad! Dad was gone a couple of years later, but he hunted every year with his boys.

What an awesome group! Great story, too!

 

[Oldmomma]

Wow great stories..my aunt posted today the death of a good family friend. This mans family owned a chicken farm that my grandparents worked at and my uncles when I was little. When granny died 3 yrs ago he sat with family in a seat of great respect. I remember going to work for granny when I was 8 yrs old pushing the cart along collecting eggs.
Momma has so many of my stepfathers super 8 home movies and finally was able to copy them. She took them to I think walmart and had them transfered to cds. Cost her over 700 dollars but she gave copies to each of us kids. The year granny died I got to go back and see family I hadnt seen since I was 9. I used a program on my laptop and put family photos to music and put it on my blog and sent copies to my siblings. I used the song "dont blink" cause it fit perfectly to what I felt about us all growing up and away. My grandparents spent 50+ years before grandpa passed of Parkinson disease. I didnt have everyone but all the pics of family I did have and we cried quite a few tears.
My stepfather was a hunter til almost his last year. He got acting funny one season and while up in the mountains thought a Elk was attacking them and ran out with his gun and momma had to stop him. Found out hehas PParkinson and Alzheimers both killed him in less than 1 yr. He was suposed to retire that year and take momma on a trip around the world. Momma passed last year 20 yrs after him.
I dont fear dying, just leaving unkept promises...I try to enjoy every day cause I found this past year tomorrow is never certain.
Ive got lots of old vhs movies I need to copy of my son and kids as babies. Want to take care before they are lost.
Best call it a night out all day today. Be feeling it tomorrow.

 

[Blooie]

Wow great stories..my aunt posted today the death of a good family friend. This mans family owned a chicken farm that my grandparents worked at and my uncles when I was little. When granny died 3 yrs ago he sat with family in a seat of great respect. I remember going to work for granny when I was 8 yrs old pushing the cart along collecting eggs.
Momma has so many of my stepfathers super 8 home movies and finally was able to copy them. She took them to I think walmart and had them transfered to cds. Cost her over 700 dollars but she gave copies to each of us kids. The year granny died I got to go back and see family I hadnt seen since I was 9. I used a program on my laptop and put family photos to music and put it on my blog and sent copies to my siblings. I used the song "dont blink" cause it fit perfectly to what I felt about us all growing up and away. My grandparents spent 50+ years before grandpa passed of Parkinson disease. I didnt have everyone but all the pics of family I did have and we cried quite a few tears.
My stepfather was a hunter til almost his last year. He got acting funny one season and while up in the mountains thought a Elk was attacking them and ran out with his gun and momma had to stop him. Found out hehas PParkinson and Alzheimers both killed him in less than 1 yr. He was suposed to retire that year and take momma on a trip around the world. Momma passed last year 20 yrs after him.
I dont fear dying, just leaving unkept promises...I try to enjoy every day cause I found this past year tomorrow is never certain.
Ive got lots of old vhs movies I need to copy of my son and kids as babies. Want to take care before they are lost.
Best call it a night out all day today. Be feeling it tomorrow.

I think that is the best description of how I feel I've ever read! Thank you for that. Your family sounds amazing!

 

[bruceha2000]

Man, I wish I had gone through that "PARTY! DRINK! WE'RE SO GONNA REGRET THIS TOMORROW MORNING!" phase, but I never did. At most, I rebelliously dyed my hair black and in college, cut it all off. Though, I didn't really cut the hair off to be rebellious. It was just getting super hot here and I was about to film for the RGV Livestock Show. Of course, I got called all sorts of names for that. Apparently, practicality means nothing to the people who bothered me.

What Farmer's Markets do you go to? Mine happens once a week, but it is slow-going and most everyone there are still older than me and don't seem that interested in talking. I'd probably have to drive half an hour on a Saturday to get to the cool farmer's markets in McAllen. But you do make a valid point: I need to go somewhere that harbors people like me, haha!

Nah, you know you missed nothing. I'd watch the people like that at college having great 'fun'. They didn't remember a bit of it the next day. I figure if you can't remember, it wasn't worth doing. And if you wish you could go back a day and NOT do it, it REALLY wasn't worth doing

I make an exception for people suffering Alzheimers. For them, everything is "now". Keeping them occupied with 'fun now' things is key to the caregiver's sanity, if not the one with the disease, even though they won't remember in the morning.

We got a bit, OK a LOT, nervous some years back when my wife's cousin and daughters (early college age) came to visit and the younger girl's hair was shaved REALLY short We thought she had had chemo for cancer and no one told us. Thankfully, no, just being a bit rebellious

The reason I thought of Farmer's Markets is the one in Burlington, at least when it first started, had a lot of young people who figured they could make a living with small scale farming for the localvore movement. Really never see any, if you will, 'real' farmers. The kind that grow 6 bazillion whatevers to sell on the wholesale market. The Farmer's Market has expanded though, lots of local crafts and food now. They have to keep expanding the area. Tibetan potato and pea curry over jasmine rice

Still have the small scale farmers selling produce and flowers of course, mostly younger people and a lot of young people work on their small farms. People know people. Remember is isn't WHAT you know it is WHO you know. OK, WHAT you know is important too.

Bruce

 

[LBejaran]

Nah, you know you missed nothing. I'd watch the people like that at college having great 'fun'. They didn't remember a bit of it the next day. I figure if you can't remember, it wasn't worth doing. And if you wish you could go back a day and NOT do it, it REALLY wasn't worth doing

I make an exception for people suffering Alzheimers. For them, everything is "now". Keeping them occupied with 'fun now' things is key to the caregiver's sanity, if not the one with the disease, even though they won't remember in the morning.

We got a bit, OK a LOT, nervous some years back when my wife's cousin and daughters (early college age) came to visit and the younger girl's hair was shaved REALLY short We thought she had had chemo for cancer and no one told us. Thankfully, no, just being a bit rebellious

The reason I thought of Farmer's Markets is the one in Burlington, at least when it first started, had a lot of young people who figured they could make a living with small scale farming for the localvore movement. Really never see any, if you will, 'real' farmers. The kind that grow 6 bazillion whatevers to sell on the wholesale market. The Farmer's Market has expanded though, lots of local crafts and food now. They have to keep expanding the area. Tibetan potato and pea curry over jasmine rice

Still have the small scale farmers selling produce and flowers of course, mostly younger people and a lot of young people work on their small farms. People know people. Remember is isn't WHAT you know it is WHO you know. OK, WHAT you know is important too.

Bruce

I joke sometimes that I'm too responsible to be able to party properly. When one of my friends asked me if I had been out drinking, I admitted I had, but I had a method to it. I have to eat a big meal first, have a glass of water with every cocktail, and I snack during so I don't enjoy my drink too fast. She looked at me with big eyes and said, "Wow, that's....really responsible of you. I just go out, drink until I get dizzy, and have my brother pick me up." I just laughed and told her I was too old to do that. I am only 21, haha!

What really impresses me is when young people (or people my age) have the drive and are willing to learn about small-scale farming and turn that into a viable business. It shows ambition but also a desire to get back to the land. It instills a little bit of hope for the future.

I know several of the people who sell arts and crafts at what they call Market Days here in Harlingen. While the Farmer's Market is once a week every Saturday, Market Days is only on the first Saturday every month. Market Days is where all the artisans, food sellers, and small farmers show up. You'll see little Hispanic women surrounded by the plants they grew in their own backyard and they are selling them for a hefty price. However, the plants are well worth it because she's done the hard part of germinating and raising these tropical plants that are otherwise pretty difficult to grow. These women have green thumbs that I would love to have. Then again, I think I'm pretty good at growing things, too.

The only thing I don't like about the Farmer's Market is the Egg Lady. For whatever reason, that woman just grinds my beans. I don't know why, but she is so difficult to talk to. When I asked her if she was ever willing to sell hatching eggs, she acted super insulted and told me she would never do such a thing. I don't know what the big deal is (or why she was so insulted). I was just curious! If someone ever asked for hatching eggs from me, I'd probably be pleased and would try and help the person out. And if she didn't want to sell any (heck, some people breed so carefully for prime egg-laying, so I would understand not wanting to share), she could have just said no and that she wasn't planning to. That would have been just fine with me!

Mmmm...I was just reminded of some really good Thai food my cousin makes. She was born and raised in Thailand and makes the best gang panang I have ever tried. It doesn't help that there isn't much in the fridge right now and I'm so hungry! We desperately need to make a trip to the grocery store. I've had so many eggs this week, haha!

 

[Blooie]

So

I've been working on this part of the afternoon and finally have it condensed down somewhat. If you aren't into long stories, feel free to skip over it. It is now one of my favorite memories of growing up.

I had an uncle named Lloyd who lived in Deadwood long before it became a hot tourist town. He was a character and I loved him dearly. He was ¾ Sioux Indian and incredibly handsome. I had a bad case of hero worship, and when we’d go out there I tagged along behind him to soak up his “Indian Lore”. Aunt Shirley, Lloyd’s wife and my dad’s sister, had another name for his Indian lore. I won’t repeat it here. I had red hair, freckles and blue eyes and Lloyd had jet black hair, dark skin, and eyes so deep brown they looked black. So with his twisted sense of humor he became the “Lone Ranger” and I was relegated to “Tonto”.

Every year Dad and Ma would go out there to go hunting with Lloyd and Shirley. We needed the meat, and I think Ma and Dad needed the break. I always loved to go to Deadwood, even though I ended up just babysitting my siblings, because I thought my cousin Cathy was the epitome of cool. She played guitar and sang like a bird, had huge brown eyes and softly curling dark brown hair. She and I were just a few months apart but it felt like she was so much older and wiser.

Finally one trip Lloyd and Dad asked Cathy and me if we'd like to go with them to hunt and have our mothers take our place staying with the little kids. Boy would we! I'd been deer hunting before, but never had the chance to shoot. I could blast a 7-Up bottle into a million pieces and I was a dead shot on rabbits. A deer was much bigger...how hard could it be? That day we took the rifles to some out of the way place Lloyd knew and practiced, sighted in, and just generally tried to act like big shots in front of our dads. We stopped at a little Mom and Pop store and stocked up on Pepsi, candy, and I think Cathy and I got our general deer permits. (I'm fuzzy on that because I know we needed them in subsequent years but I don’t think we did that year.) All the way up that twisty, nasty back road the next morning Dad and Uncle Lloyd instructed us on the need to be alert, to keep quiet, and to do exactly - EXACTLY - what we were told the second we were told, without hesitation or questions. They stressed that we needed to rely on their experience and orders. At that time Uncle Lloyd was employed as a game warden and he and Dad lectured us incessantly about the regulations as well.

But we were undaunted as we jumped out of Lloyd's old IH Travelall. Cold? Lordy it was cold way up high in the Black Hills. Our boots crunched a little too loudly on the snow as we found a convenient little bush to take care of what drinking sodas and bouncing over every rut in the road had precipitated. Then we crunched our way back to the truck and were given our guns and our instructions - again!

We split up. Cathy went with Dad and I got to go with Uncle Lloyd! I had my rucksack wrapped in flannel, just as Lloyd had told me. He was right - the flannel muffled the sound of branches catching on the canvas! The snow was crusty, but he was heavier than I was so he left prints just deep enough for me to step right into. He took small steps, stopping every couple of yards to just watch and listen. He whispered that if I was really quiet the pine trees would sing to me. He was right about that - there was indeed a soft song coming from them. He also told me to check the
piece of thread tied to the very end of the barrel of my gun for little puffs of breeze so I could shift my eyes as the wind shifted. He told me that that way I wouldn't waste time looking the wrong way and would only be looking for deer that hadn't caught our scent. What do you know? Uncle Lloyd was right again! That little tiny piece of thread caught every little shift in air currents, showing me exactly where the light winds were coming from.

We went along for some time in the quiet of the early morning. He moved with competence and experience and showed no signs of any discomfort. I, on the other hand, was freezing and beginning to wonder if we would ever see a deer! Deer are far less cooperative than bunnies.

Lloyd stopped, pointed to the branches of a huge pine tree, told me to crawl under them and sit against the tree trunk. I was to wait for him right there and nibble on my Snickers bar for energy. This tree must have been there since the beginning of time and its thick branches touched the snow all the way around it, like a heavy dark green skirt. He said he'd be gone for a few minutes and that I would warm up under those protective branches. I did as I was told, and found the ground underneath dry. I wasn’t one bit scared being all by myself as I slowly ate my candy bar, listening for either the sound of a shot or for Uncle Lloyd's return. He was right about that too - it did feel like I was getting a little warmer.

The branches parted and Uncle Lloyd motioned for me to follow him. He said he'd found fresh deer sign and that we were going to head that way. So again I took advantage of his short little footsteps. We hadn't gone far at all when he stopped suddenly. I was so focused on watching the edges of the tree line off to the side that I bumped right into him! Deer tracks! He crouched down and showed me how to check them to see if they were fresh or old. Then he pointed off to one side of a particularly large set.

"See those little dark pellets? That's deer poop. If those pellets are fresh we're about to get pretty busy. I'll show you how to check 'em." I'll bet if I'd have looked up at him right at that moment, what was about to happen wouldn't have happened - the orneriness in his eyes would have given him away. But, good old, dumb, obedient 13 year old that I was, my eyes never left the pellets on the ground as we moved toward them.

He picked up a couple and squeezed them. Looked to me like he was squeezing that poop pretty hard, but then what did I know? He sniffed the ones he'd picked up as well.

"Okay, Tonto, let's see what you think. Do just what I did."

Well, okay, I had gloves on. I picked up a couple of them, squeezed like he'd done, and smelled them too. I got nothing, but then my nose had been running and frozen for the past hour....they were hard as little rocks and to my untrained nose had no smell at all. So Uncle Lloyd popped a couple of them in his mouth, rolled them around, and then spat them out on the snow. Wait! What? Oh,no, not this girl! He looked at me with all seriousness and said, "We told you girls that if you wanted to do this you had to do what we told you. If you ain’t gonna learn anything we've wasted a hunting trip."

Oh, I groaned. I gagged. I even tried to argue but when he gave me what Aunt Shirley used to call his "Watch out Mr. Custer" look I was sunk. I'd promised. Cathy had promised. He'd been right about everything he'd told me to that point. And Lloyd had done it and spat them right back out. He'd survived. It wasn't like I had to swallow them or anything. So I took a deep breath, tried to tuck my tongue into the back of my throat so they wouldn't touch it (not real successfully, by the way) and I put two of those little round brown pellets in my mouth.

Oh,GROSS! Oh, NASTY! Oh, wait...do deer eat chocolate? And caramel? I spat them out but couldn't get the taste of Milk Duds out of my mouth. Milk Duds? MILK DUDS? Back then Milk Duds weren't coated with a thin layer of the shiny, light brown stuff like they are now - they
were dipped in the same type of chocolate that chocolate covered peanuts are still bathed in. They were good back then! Uncle Lloyd laughed so hard he couldn't even maintain his crouching position...he just sorta fell over, whooping and wiping his eyes. I felt like such an idiot….an idiot who didn’t think the whole thing was one bit funny!

We hunted for a while longer, but when even Uncle Lloyd got cold it was time to head back. We hadn't seen a thing except some tracks and some Milk Duds. I was still walking behind him, and darned if his shoulders didn't periodically start shaking as he thought about his funny little trick. I was fuming. But what could a 13 year old do against a much loved grownup? Couldn't yell at him. Couldn't cry and be a baby. The closer we got to the Travelall the lower my head drooped. I yanked open the back door, plopped my backside on the seat and grabbed a bottle of Pepsi. It had reached that partially frozen slushy stage - just what I needed to wash the taste of humiliation and “deer poop” out of my mouth.

I looked up when I heard Dad hailing Lloyd. Behind my dad, Cathy was shuffling her feet. She saw me and picked up speed, finally diving into the seat beside me. I handed her a Pepsi and the bottle opener and said, “Milk Duds?” She nodded. I grabbed the red wool blanket and tossed it over us.

Late that night Cathy and I were still awake, finally warm in our sleeping bags on the living room floor. She’d been much more quiet than usual and I was madder at my dad for humiliating her than I was at Uncle Lloyd’s trick on me. The house was silent and I was trying to think of way to cheer up my cousin. Dad went into the bathroom and ran a tub of warm water. Almost everyone was sleeping, and after one last beer Dad told Lloyd he was going to crawl into his quick bath before the water cooled off. Cathy slipped out of her sleeping bag and tiptoed to use the bathroom first. When she came out Dad ruffed up her hair and went on his way. A few minutes later we heard a string of cuss words coming out of the bathroom and my dad flew out of there. He stopped dead, looked down at Cathy and said, “Touché!” then went back down the hall, presumably for another beer.

I looked at Cathy. She flipped over on her back, put her arms behind her head and said, “Baby Ruth in the bathtub."

​

 

[bruceha2000]

Rats! We had spring, but I was out of town so I missed it.

Don't worry Blooie, spring will come again, next year.

He looks like such a sweetheart! I might run to the dog shelter this week, just to see what they have. It's only a couple of miles down the road from me.

You might want to tell them what you are looking for. They can keep and eye out and might have connections with other shelters.

Quote: If you are comfortable in TX, I'm not sure you want to live in WY in the winter. Kinda cold.

We're gonna have quite a cry-fest on Mother's Day, I'll tell you that!

Are you SURE that would be better than flowers and candy?

You are a very thoughtful person Laura. Which reminds me, I think I should send my younger daughter an email to remind her that Sunday is Mother's Day. I'm guessing it is not high on her mind. Never has been and she has finals this week and next so she is extra preoccupied.

I think that is the most wonderful gift I've ever heard of! God Bless you and your dad, and please don't tell her I ended a sentence with a preposition!

My step-mother just HATED it when I did that! She wasn't an English teacher but boy, ending a sentence with a preposition just grated on her.

I hope so! I don't remember meeting Tia Kika, so watching these videos while editing them is making it much easier for me to understand why Mom loved her so much.

How much of your ethnic background is Spanish? And from Spain or Mexico, Central, South America? 3 of my grandparents were born in Spain, 2 centuries ago, of course it WAS very close to the end of that century.

My wife's paternal grandfather was born in 1861. Yes, 1861, 101 years before she was born. He was 65 when my FIL was born.

Bruce - you asked about the dairies in WI.
This is just my opinion, based on what I learned while working for the county with farm programs. Such a great percentage of the small family dairies have sold out and the mega dairies have taken over. The farmers are getting older and the kids don't want to be tied down to the land, so they just sell to developers or corporate farms to get the money out of the land. Then people like me, who want our own little piece of heaven will by small parcels of that land. The large corporate farms are located in more rural areas, not so much along the lakeshore. But also, it is near impossible to make a living at dairy farming unless you are a big farm - talking about milking 500+ cows.
A lot of these cows spend all of their lives in barns, the feed is green chopped and hauled to the barn. They will go into a milking parlor two or three times a day, but otherwise they spend all their time under a roof.

Same here in Vermont with regard to the small dairy farms, lose some every year. It has been a long time since there were more cows than people in the state. Don't have the big corporates though. I try to do my part, I only buy milk from Vermont cows 'bottled' in Vermont. I feel sorry for those WI cows, not getting to spend their days out in the sun eating grass.

Guess they don't have deer and fish in Wisconsin!

Don't you know? The hunting and fishing is always better on the other side of the state line

Not to change the subject, but Bee, I was just on another thread that you started!!! You have bees??!! I just asked a question on there. This is my first year with bees, Bee, (just couldn't resist!!

). Waiting on a swarm, but I'm just finishing up my hive. I know, a little late in the season, but they say they should start swarming any day now.

Hope I'm ready!!!

Which thread is that Debbie? I don't have bees yet but they are on my very short list of animals I can raise given my older daughter's "no kill" requirements. I won't let her read the hunting posts, she knows such things happen but doesn't want to hear that it does.

 

[bruceha2000]

I looked at Cathy. She flipped over on her back, put her arms behind her head and said, “Baby Ruth in the bathtub."

​

You have the BEST relatives Blooie! More fun than a barrel of monkeys.

Bruce

 

[Blooie]

You have the BEST relatives Blooie! More fun than a barrel of monkeys.

Bruce

You'll get no argument from me, Bruce!

 

[TexasLisa]

I looked at Cathy. She flipped over on her back, put her arms behind her head and said, “Baby Ruth in the bathtub."

​

O Blooie!!! I am so happy you are back!! Loved it.

Lisa