Triple Flambe

Not sure if I should laugh or cry today. Renting is a real pain in the neck. With our renters being here on the farm I try to stay out of their business. I try to pick good renters, but, every once in awhile there is one that stands out.

At five o’clock in the morning I see flames shooting over the top of a trailer we rent. Running up the hill, in my nightshirt, expecting the worse, you can not begin to imagine my anger when I see my newest tenant burning over the bank a pile of skids. After my first words of, “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” I asked “What are you doing?”
Eyeing my lanky tenant who reminds me of a cross between a Jack Russel terrier, Festus off of Gunsmoke and a slightly drunken sailor; I get a slurred reply explaining he had some copper he wanted to take. He was burning the outer casing off.

My other tenant, who is a fiery young woman, I can imagine inside her trailer seething; if I am this mad. I know she, by now, has slammed her windows shut; as she can not afford an A/C unit, yet. Even then, the fumes from the green fire were overwhelming.
Last week, after verbally telling this young man to clean up a mess from where he burned his trash, littered with cans and diapers, we spent three hours cleaning it up ourselves. We took seven bags of burned trash out. I can not even imagine how much he had stashed to get the amount. He was told, then, there would be no more burning for anyone.
I am a kind, tolerant person but after this and, oh, about thirty other minor incidents; this one finally takes the cake. They are behind in the rent, to boot. As I stand watching the flames stretch high in a sky that has not seen a good rain all month he adds the cherry to the flambe, “I got fired. I need the extra money for diapers.”
“Yah,” I’m thinking, “you’re going to need a great big one when you get your eviction notice.”
I really have not wanted to do this, but, it comes down to business. I can not afford to loose all my good paying, well-behaved renters to help someone who just doesn’t get it.

Blogging and Web Designing- Oh my.

For some reason I popped awake at four AM on a Saturday morning. You got to be kidding me. Well, might as well work on my website. I was working on it until eleven o’clock last night and it seems my mind wanted to keep going. I’m adding yet another section to my web where I’m storing all my recipes. I keep misplacing the cards I have them written on so why not stick them on my web. See if I can loose them there. I have had the website for a long time and just keep adding to it.

I’m very glad the hubby knows alot about how to program computers and put them physically together. Sometimes I’ll stepaway for months then come back and scratch my head, “And how did I upload this and which of the hundreds of files was that in.” This blog stuffmakes my eyes glaze over.  I’m still confused about the pages. I have yet to discover how to make it so readers see the pages. That’s another day. This morning I’m creating a new web page: Cooking with Miss Cindy- Tomato Season. I see and index page in the future with lots of little off shoot pages.

My friend gave me three five gallon buckets of tomatos and I had to scramble to can or freeze them. She drives bus, too. She made the mistake of bringing the bucket on the bus and setting them in the seat. She took a turn on her way in, no kids on the bus, to meet me with them where we work and those over ripe tomatoes went everywhere. She was bringing the bus in to be washed and ended up having tomop her bus. Little did I know there was a hole in the bucket and the juice went into my car floor. If you have ever smelled rotten tomatoes on a ninety degree day I need not tell you what my car smelled like the next morning. Yah, it was ripe. No pun intended.

 

Laughter is Medicinal

According to what I have been reading on the internet about laughter; a good laugh relieves stress. You will might feel relaxed from physical tension for over half an hour. So, if you buy one of my books, find a nice quiet spot, you might actually laugh yourself healthy. It is believed laughing boosts immune cells and antibodies. What a great gift idea for a sick friend, a book full of laughter and a bowl of homemade chicken soup!

There is a side benefit to farming, too. The animals are always good for a laugh. The baby goats learning not to touch the electric fence or a mad rooster chasing the cat through the yard. Not Funny 50

“You stood right there and watched me do it! That was not funny human!”

In the case of The Major’s Renegade it is Charger, Jackson’s horse, playing dead after the troops accidently blow up a wagon; Pearl, the cougar, pouncing Private Tubby Tucker for his stash of jerky; or Adrion’s squirrel running off with Old Lent’s coonskin cap.

So, head over to my website and get yourself a capful, no cupful, no bookful of laughter. We all need an immunity boosting laugh.

CynthiaQueen.com

A Calf Tale- Honda Coupe vs Bull Calf

CALF TALES from 2016

Helpful Calf Raising Tips on my website Cynthia Queen.com

June 3, 2016 Honda Coop versus Bull Calffarm humor steak

As usual, life distracts me from my horses. Yesterday, I distracted myself by going to the local auction in Waynesburg. Sometimes I can pick up a nice horse to train. Today I met my niece and already she had bought a pot of flowers. I picked up a bucket of eight-penny nails and two four-foot gates. You would not believe how pricey a gate can be brand new. I always like to buy used when I can. Take my little Honda Civic two-door. I got it from a friend who had it all but its first three years. Sixteen years old and running strong.

We watched the horses go through and a beautiful gold leopard appaloosa made me sit on my hands. Good thing it was not a mare as my Tennessee Walker stud would have had one more added to the field. It is so hard not to collect horses as they are like beautiful potato chips. I’m always sad when someone buys one, but, the fun is to go pick out another training prospect. The calves came up and a nice black Hereford stepped out. I had a set price in mind and went up to it. Calves always went higher then my price so imagine my surprise when I found myself a proud owner of a bull calf, only, guess what I drove to the auction. Now my niece is laughing because she has to go the opposite direction of the farm. Guess what has to go in the backseat of the car and take a ten mile trip?

Luckily we bumped in to a male friend with good arms. He volunteered to bring the calf out to us. While I’m clearing the yard sale stuff out of my backseat five people see my niece as she arrives with a “tux pad”, as she calls them. Usually hospitals put these under patients to catch any accidents. They are great for baby farm animals, too. So, here comes the farm boy with my calf and a big grin on his face. He doesn’t hesitate to push the calf behind the back seat and slam the door. If I could have only had a camera for the surprised look on the other people’s faces. It was priceless to say. My niece is laughing hysterically at this point. She says, “It’s all about the farm life.”

I smiled and said, “Gotta go. He’ll over heat.” Now, this isn’t my first offense for bringing babies home in cars. Usually it’s my hubby’s Cadillac. Shh-h-h he never reads these articles so I’m safe here. Anyways, this calf is not laying down as they normally will do. Instead, it is trying to see out the back window like the dog. I was glad I had left some boxes in the seat.

As I leave the auction behind I’m thinking this particular calf might not be such a good candidate for this ride. Last year a heifer, identical to this one, caused four hours of stress after she jumped off the back of the truck and raced out of sight into the neighbor’s fields. That story is under “Porter House Steak.” She is a yearling now.

Well, the calf will not settle down and I am beginning to worry that it might try to jump up and drive. I stretched my arm across the other seat and for fifteen anxious minutes drove down Route 218. Along the way the calf contented itself to lick the back seat and the the box. I was afraid to roll the windows down all the way, even though my air conditioner had quit working. It was ninety degrees outside and one-ten inside. Then, I hear this paper ripping sound. It is followed by some slurping and smacking. The calf had found the newspaper on the floor and was quite happily eating it. Good thing it was yesterday’s news.

Once to the farm I drove up to my daughter’s trailer and grabbed her. Why is it when I need a camera to capture people’s expressions I’m lacking it? I looked at her and said, “Good, you got your shoes. Hop in and let’s go.”

My daughter is staring in disbelief at the hind end of the calf, “How?”

Without hesitating I replied, “We pushed. Now get in because we are going to have to pull this little guy out of here before he has a big accident.” Jumping in I stopped at the driveway and instructed her to get the dog collar and rope off the porch. It is there for escaped goats.

I drove the Honda through the yard. After she opened the gate I drove into the goat yard very glad we had dry weather. It is all clay. After some pushing on the backend and some pulling on the front my car gave birth to an unhappy baby bull who was promptly named after his Momma, “Honda.” So that is how a Honda is born, folks.