Hunting was not as productive this year. Yet for the first time in his hunting career Jay sighted, stalked, and shot this 7-pt yearling buck the Thursday afternoon before gun season ended in a fallow huckleberry field a tenth of a mile from our home.
The four-foot-long orange Corn snake, Goldilocks, who lives here and helps by eating rodents we catch, went on a field trip last week. A young lady from the local herpotology club picked her up from Jay’s office and then brought her back home after she had visited the local middle school. She is a perfect color for a Halloween visit!
When the young lady learned that we feed Goldilocks live and freshly dead mice and voles, she was alarmed. It seems to her captive snakes should be fed only freshly dead captive raised mice! When I inquired about the reason for her belief, she said that “wild rodents carry disease and may bite the snake”!
Umm. Yes. We think that God designed snakes to deal with bites and germs.
Now I am assuming, which is not a wise thing to do, but it is to make a point. Why would a good Darwinist not want a snake to be challenged by live prey? Survival of the fittest, and all that.
For my part, I think it is cruel to keep a snake in a tank all its life and never be able to constrict its own prey, never able to hunt, however artificial it is in the confines of the tank, never to eat “natural” food.
For a similar reason I take Goldilocks outside and let her slither around. Under observation. Perhaps that is not “safe” either, but, gee whiz, life is not all about safety, even for a pet snake!
The forefinger largehairy caterpillar eating on the Milkweed fell off the plant I picked so it did not come home to be photographed. It sure was not a monarch larva. It was a caterpillar.
The red darning needle dragonfly was rattling under a piece of grass. Freeing it, holding it in my hand, wondering if I should set it free or keep it for cards. It was a spectacular bright red. It flew off just then and I was happy the decision was made for me.
The Black Swallowtaillarva went back out into the dill and promptly disappeared. It overwinters as a pupa so perhaps it got ready for winter.
We found one Katydid still alive and kicking in the long grass verge on the side of the corn field.
Earl and Merle Squirrel have increased their range dramatically. They now go over the lower roof to the west side of the house, they meet us at the door, and this afternoon Earl was on top of the freezer in the back room; I gave him a chestnut, got hold of him and he jumped onto the door and up over the roof.
Jay took Isabelle hunting Saturday and they came home with one goose.
And while we were cleaning up the garden, we thought maybe the answer to higher food prices is to feed out the turnips. One of these would feed a family for a couple days. Or even longer if no one likes turnips! Turnips as large as your head.
Daren called this morning. It rained off and on all night and into the morning. Again. But he was determined to go out turkey hunting so when he got up he glassed the alfalfa field across the road and saw a small flock of jakes grazing in the rain.
He got dressed and looked out the window just as he left to go downstairs. The birds had crossed the road and were heading for the house.
He ran downstairs and got the gun ready, but before he got out the door, there they were, coming around the corner of the basement. He fought with a door he does not usually use, eventually getting it open in time to shoot the last jak.
The turkeys had walked right in front of him, across the lawn, up the bank, and were entering the woods behind and beside the house.
We had buttermilk pancakes for breakfast. I recommend them. Honey cinnamon butter and hot maple syrup go well with them. Nuke butter until soft but not melted, add honey and cinnamon until it tasted nice. Put the syrup in a microwave-safe container before nuking. Much easier than heating over the stove.
That is steam rising from them. Hot off the griddle.
Buttermilk Pancakes
from my old Better Homes and Gardens New Cook Book, with changes, of course. Pancake recipes make a batter that is too darn stiff and thick. Adding more liquid results in nicer pancakes that cook better. See above.
3/4 cup each whole wheat and white flours
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 T. sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 beaten egg
1 cup buttermilk
2 T. oil
extra water or milk–1/3+ cup
Mix dry ingredients together. I use a whisk. Add the wet ingredients and mix until blended. Add extra moisture until the batter is moderately thick but will run. Bake on a hot griddle. Makes enough for three or four. Doubles easily.
It is now almost 9PM. It is raining. Again. It rained this afternoon, also.
Happy October First! The Morning Glories were glorious indeed this morning. There were more than 45 blooms. Perhaps they sense their time is just about up?
Jay went turkey hunting this first morning of the season and returned with a nice hen he met on the edge of the cornfield.
Hawthorne was very excited by the arrival of the bird.
Ellie and I went to the perennial county quilt show. There were about 10 Civil War era quilts on display there from the county history museum which were made in this county. Here are two:
This was made by a member of the Treman family of Trumansburg. Lots pf striped fabrics. 
Incredibly beautiful. And below, a silk quilt, perhaps made by Quakers since it is backed with the same drab brown cotton they used to line their silk dresses.
The docent from the museum who shared a bit about these quilts said that the silk in this quilt came from Paris and was of higher quality than Victorian era silks and thus had not shattered. I asked what the difference in the silks was.
It seems that silk from China was sold on a weight per pound basis and to make the fabric weigh more the element lead was added during processing. It also gave the silk the nice weight and rustle when used in dresses. The lead, though, also caused the premature decay (shatter) of the silk itself.
French silk, on the other hand, contains no lead. It also does not rustle. It shsh’s.
And 40 hearts. We helped slaughter 40 Cornish Rocks today and our friends did not want the hearts or livers. I did.
So after cleaning and freezing most, I had fresh chicken livers fried in butter with sweet pickles. Yum.
Last night S and her son T came to supper. Rocky liked her very much and stayed in the sleeve of her shirt for an hour or so.
And he liked T, too.
Rocky goes home tonight, I think.
Those are the bald measurements of the day Isabelle and I spent going up to Uncle Harold’s memorial service. In the process we stopped at the farm twice, stopped to take Aunt Janice with us and then deposit her back home, and went for a quick shop at Sephora at a large mall on the way home. Oh, and ice cream cones for supper along the lake.
Uncle Harold was a large man who did a lot of things large. He loved to fish and hunt. He loved to eat. He grew vast crops of fruit and vegetables. He grew pigs to which he fed the rejected ice cream from the plant where he worked. He grew mammoth sized turkeys. Who ever heard of cooking a 42 pound turkey? Harold is the tall one in the center.
Harold is on the far right. He helped people in the same manner in which he did all other things: largely, joyously, generously.
Harold in the middle. Jay on the left, Daren at right, and our first dog, Boomer licking his chops over the large buck.
His last month was, as his daughter aptly put, “brutal”. For him, for his wife, for those who loved him and watched him suffer. He died on the day and at the time he usually met his best friend each week for breakfast and then a fishing outing. This week it was his Savior.
Since we left in a rush early this morning I forwent making breakfast. But here was yesterday’s: Uncle Harold would approve if meat had also been involved.
Before. Yes. It is orange.
Ready to eat. The orange tomato was slightly sweeter than a regular red.
