Farm News 01-27-08
Sunday morning, after chores, 42°
Weight 118 lbs
Barn News
Notice that I have added a new measurement to the heading. I try to remember to check the temperature each Sunday morning as I come in from morning chores, somewhere between 8:00 and 9:00, usually. Now, when I come in from Sunday morning chores, I will also check my weight and record it in the heading of Farm News. Sharing the progress of my diet project with the rest of the world might help me remember to restrain myself when faced with Paula's chocolate chip cookies.
Paula makes cookies and I make Birdie Burger. A batch of Birdie Burger starts with two to five pounds of lard warmed to room temperature. To that I add, for each pound of lard, about a half pound of 17% protein poultry mash, a half pound of sunflower seeds, a half pound of poultry mixed scratch grains, some cheap peanut butter, and a quarter pound of Elderberries. All that stuff is then mixed together by hand, a process which gives me purple fingers from the Elderberries. I then make it into patties that will fit into the woodpecker feeders, wrap each patty in waxed paper, and store in the freezer.
We seem to be out of the polar weather for a while. Perhaps the birds will begin finding their natural feed more. I am feeding sunflower seed and Birdie Burger. The birds here are eating a lot sunflower seeds and going through the Birdie Burger at a record rate. Jeannette, a friend who lives about ten miles away, has fed a hundred pounds of sunflower seed this month, a quantity that usually would have lasted all winter at her feeders.
At my feeders are Chickadees, Tufted Titmice, Nuthatches, Cardinals, a few Blue Jays, and a few Starlings. The same mix is visiting Jeannette's feeders, along with a great many Gold Finches and Purple Finches. Jeannette has White Breasted Nuthatches but no Red Breasted Nuthatches. We both have Downy and Red Breasted Woodpeckers. The Woodpeckers, Starlings, and Red Breasted Nuthatches feed most heavily on the Birdie Burger. On Thursday a flock of House Finches showed up and then disappeared again on Friday.
Tripping to Chicago – part 2
The Aztec Ambulance had plenty of room for two people. Carrying six people required four of them to ride in the back. When all six of us piled into the back we resembled a litter of oversize puppies in a small nest, crowded but perfectly happy.
We left Lawrence in the morning, successfully navigated through Kansas City, and started across Missouri on US 24. Kansas was uptight, but Missouri was uptight and trashy. The highway was poorly maintained, the roadsides were weedy, and there were derelict automobiles littering the landscape. Missouri is a state best crossed at night.
Before we came to the Mississippi we turned north and followed the river to Davenport, Iowa, where my parents were living, arriving in time for my mother to provide us with a good, home cooked dinner. We spent the night on my parent's living room floor and had a hearty breakfast before we left on the next leg of our journey.
Somewhere in this part of the trip we discovered Road Songs. Road Songs are similar to Zen koans, inspired by roadside billboards, and delivered to a Country-Western sounding tune. They also have the quality of being impossible to remember, so I can't repeat any, especially this many years later. I do remember that some of them were about the Marlboro Man's pants smoking after he dropped his cigarette. A little bit of pot made them sound terrifically witty. What the Road Songs probably indicated was that we had already run out of anything interesting to say to each other, so we rode to Chicago on silly songs.
We stopped at the outskirts of Chicago and smoked the last of our pot. We had heard that we wouldn't enjoy being put in a Chicago jail, so we burned the evidence and had a good time doing it. Then, high and happy, we headed for the heart of the city. We found a place to park, stepped out the truck, and were stretching out the kinks in our backs when a long-haired guy rode up on a bicycle. “Just get here?” he asked.
He said he had an apartment near by and invited us to spend the night with him. That sounded good to us, and we put his bike in the back, along with five hippies, he got in the passenger seat, and we drove to his place. He even had off-street parking where we could put the Aztec Ambulance. So, we all settled down in his apartment, he put on some brown rice to cook, and the only thing we lacked was pot. Our host said his dealer would probably be by later.
About the time the brown rice was ready there was loud bang on the door, and then the door crashed open, and a half a dozen cops came barging into the apartment, all with their guns in one hand and night sticks in the other. Shit! It was a raid, a raid without the niceties of a search warrant. Somebody had reported a bunch of hippies going into the building and, in Chicago, that was sufficient grounds for a raid.
Those cops weren't interested in enforcing any laws, they simply wanted an opportunity to kill us.
When I'm facing a bunch of people with guns who want to kill me, I prefer to be armed with more than beads, bells, and brown rice. I was angry and scared.
The cops finally left after pushing us around a bit and making various sorts of threatening growls. We thanked our host for an enlightening evening, went back out to the Aztec Ambulance, and left Chicago, heading north along the west side of Lake Michigan.
A Reader Responds
The physician who has promised to keep me alive to 114 responded to this paragraph:
I saw the physician last week for an annual checkup. The appointment was scheduled so that I would have baby bunnies of just the right age to act as attack rabbits.
Unfortunately, Suzette lost her last litter, so I had no bunnies. The physician took advantage of my lack of defense-bunnies to tell me I had to go on a diet and lose weight. I haven't noticed him losing any weight, but I kept my mouth shut and accepted his orders.
His response was: I'll work on it too.
I'm glad to know that he is taking care of his own health because he needs to stay alive and active for another 43 years if he is going to keep me alive to 114. Running around outside doing chores in cold weather has taken two pounds off my oversize waistline in the past week.
Weight 118 lbs
Barn News
Notice that I have added a new measurement to the heading. I try to remember to check the temperature each Sunday morning as I come in from morning chores, somewhere between 8:00 and 9:00, usually. Now, when I come in from Sunday morning chores, I will also check my weight and record it in the heading of Farm News. Sharing the progress of my diet project with the rest of the world might help me remember to restrain myself when faced with Paula's chocolate chip cookies.
Paula makes cookies and I make Birdie Burger. A batch of Birdie Burger starts with two to five pounds of lard warmed to room temperature. To that I add, for each pound of lard, about a half pound of 17% protein poultry mash, a half pound of sunflower seeds, a half pound of poultry mixed scratch grains, some cheap peanut butter, and a quarter pound of Elderberries. All that stuff is then mixed together by hand, a process which gives me purple fingers from the Elderberries. I then make it into patties that will fit into the woodpecker feeders, wrap each patty in waxed paper, and store in the freezer.
We seem to be out of the polar weather for a while. Perhaps the birds will begin finding their natural feed more. I am feeding sunflower seed and Birdie Burger. The birds here are eating a lot sunflower seeds and going through the Birdie Burger at a record rate. Jeannette, a friend who lives about ten miles away, has fed a hundred pounds of sunflower seed this month, a quantity that usually would have lasted all winter at her feeders.
At my feeders are Chickadees, Tufted Titmice, Nuthatches, Cardinals, a few Blue Jays, and a few Starlings. The same mix is visiting Jeannette's feeders, along with a great many Gold Finches and Purple Finches. Jeannette has White Breasted Nuthatches but no Red Breasted Nuthatches. We both have Downy and Red Breasted Woodpeckers. The Woodpeckers, Starlings, and Red Breasted Nuthatches feed most heavily on the Birdie Burger. On Thursday a flock of House Finches showed up and then disappeared again on Friday.
Tripping to Chicago – part 2
The Aztec Ambulance had plenty of room for two people. Carrying six people required four of them to ride in the back. When all six of us piled into the back we resembled a litter of oversize puppies in a small nest, crowded but perfectly happy.
We left Lawrence in the morning, successfully navigated through Kansas City, and started across Missouri on US 24. Kansas was uptight, but Missouri was uptight and trashy. The highway was poorly maintained, the roadsides were weedy, and there were derelict automobiles littering the landscape. Missouri is a state best crossed at night.
Before we came to the Mississippi we turned north and followed the river to Davenport, Iowa, where my parents were living, arriving in time for my mother to provide us with a good, home cooked dinner. We spent the night on my parent's living room floor and had a hearty breakfast before we left on the next leg of our journey.
Somewhere in this part of the trip we discovered Road Songs. Road Songs are similar to Zen koans, inspired by roadside billboards, and delivered to a Country-Western sounding tune. They also have the quality of being impossible to remember, so I can't repeat any, especially this many years later. I do remember that some of them were about the Marlboro Man's pants smoking after he dropped his cigarette. A little bit of pot made them sound terrifically witty. What the Road Songs probably indicated was that we had already run out of anything interesting to say to each other, so we rode to Chicago on silly songs.
We stopped at the outskirts of Chicago and smoked the last of our pot. We had heard that we wouldn't enjoy being put in a Chicago jail, so we burned the evidence and had a good time doing it. Then, high and happy, we headed for the heart of the city. We found a place to park, stepped out the truck, and were stretching out the kinks in our backs when a long-haired guy rode up on a bicycle. “Just get here?” he asked.
He said he had an apartment near by and invited us to spend the night with him. That sounded good to us, and we put his bike in the back, along with five hippies, he got in the passenger seat, and we drove to his place. He even had off-street parking where we could put the Aztec Ambulance. So, we all settled down in his apartment, he put on some brown rice to cook, and the only thing we lacked was pot. Our host said his dealer would probably be by later.
About the time the brown rice was ready there was loud bang on the door, and then the door crashed open, and a half a dozen cops came barging into the apartment, all with their guns in one hand and night sticks in the other. Shit! It was a raid, a raid without the niceties of a search warrant. Somebody had reported a bunch of hippies going into the building and, in Chicago, that was sufficient grounds for a raid.
Those cops weren't interested in enforcing any laws, they simply wanted an opportunity to kill us.
When I'm facing a bunch of people with guns who want to kill me, I prefer to be armed with more than beads, bells, and brown rice. I was angry and scared.
The cops finally left after pushing us around a bit and making various sorts of threatening growls. We thanked our host for an enlightening evening, went back out to the Aztec Ambulance, and left Chicago, heading north along the west side of Lake Michigan.
A Reader Responds
The physician who has promised to keep me alive to 114 responded to this paragraph:
I saw the physician last week for an annual checkup. The appointment was scheduled so that I would have baby bunnies of just the right age to act as attack rabbits.
Unfortunately, Suzette lost her last litter, so I had no bunnies. The physician took advantage of my lack of defense-bunnies to tell me I had to go on a diet and lose weight. I haven't noticed him losing any weight, but I kept my mouth shut and accepted his orders.
His response was: I'll work on it too.
I'm glad to know that he is taking care of his own health because he needs to stay alive and active for another 43 years if he is going to keep me alive to 114. Running around outside doing chores in cold weather has taken two pounds off my oversize waistline in the past week.
Labels: 1968, Chicago, Democratic Convention, Lou Reed, rabbits
posted by The Geezer at 10:13 AM
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