Archive for November, 2010



I’m sold!

Bob and Jodi just came to the door with a slab of cedar smoked venison on a small plate.  Bob said he had asked the boys to bring it over (our kids and their kids are all out in the yards together), but that they had said if they were assigned to deliver it to me, it would never arrive uneaten.  Evidently they had already had a sample and found it delicious.

I was skeptical but tried not to look that way.  I had only had venison one other time many years ago, and I had not liked it AT ALL.  But this piece was still warm, looked good, and smelled great.  I followed instructions to shred off a bit (like beef pot roast) and try it.  WOW!  It was truly scrumptious!  Not at all gamey – thanks, I suppose, to that week in he cooler.  Best meat I’ve tasted in ages, and Bob promises that there will be more. . .

BTW, this smoked section was part of one of the back straps.

I’m getting indoctrinated

Our next door neighbors are big hunters.  Bob and his son, Cody, live to hunt, and the Bob’s wife, Jodi, and at least one of her daughters (age 10) are also avid hunters.  Bob would much prefer to hunt elk and caribou in Alaska, but right now he is settling for hunting deer in Missouri. Economic times being what they are, and having a family of six to feed, his goal is to put five or six deer in the freezer for the gang to live on during the coming months.

Cody and Bob began many weeks ago, practicing with nifty and complicated bows.  They prefer archery hunting, but will resort to guns when necessary.  Last weekend, guns were necessary.  Their family went east to the Gainesville area and had a successful hunt at a place called Caney Mountain.  At least I think that’s what they said it was called.  Cody shot and killed an eight-point buck, and he’s been grinning from ear to ear ever since.

Now comes the not so fun part – dressing the deer and cutting it up for freezing.  The head’s been hanging in a tree in their yard, and the buck’s been on ice in a cooler for about a week.  Evidently this “cures” the venison and removes some of the gamey taste.  Once Mr. Buck has chilled out for the right amount of time, the hour-long process of sharpening knives begins.

Next, you stand around and talk about cutting up the deer.  This can take quite a while, as well, because you are basically killing time, trying to put off the distasteful task as long as possible.  When no one can think of anything else to say (and in deer season, there’s ALWAYS something else about hunting to say) you start cutting up the deer meat.  Ideally, this is done on discarded piece of countertop – like the section that a factory cuts out a hunk of formica in order to create a hole where the kitchen sink will go.  You put the meat in metal bowls as you go and then vacuum seal it for freezing.

Cutting up a decent-sized deer is expected to take three to four hours, and it’s emphatically not a fun job.  However, once you have the tenderloin cut, you can begin the process of smoking it (cedar will work if hickory is not available) and/or drying it as jerky.  This allows you to feel as though you are finally making progress toward the end goal of edible meat – even though you still have the most difficult parts of the deer to cut.  Since you’ll be smoking for 12 hours and jerking for 18, you’ll have plenty of time to tackle the rest of the carcass while the first batches process.

All this I have learned without ever personally having to shoot an arrow, hold a gun, saw off legs, dangle a head in a tree, or wield a bloody knife.  Kept at arms’ length, maybe I can even grow to enjoy deer season.

Should be practicing, but

I’m not.

Our piano studio’s fall Hymn Festival is this coming Wednesday morning. I will be playing two hymns from a hymnal and one richly harmonized hymn arrangement.  (Read:  many accidentals and tricky to play.) Today is Saturday and I am not ready.  I have not practiced much at all this week, although I’ve had good excuses for that.   Well, I’ve actually had SOME time, but I’ve chosen to use it in getting caught up on a number of other things, including massive academic planning, getting most of the way through a mountain of ministry-related deskwork and correspondence, wrapping and packing a shoebox, taking a long hot shower, and once AGAIN sorting through the pile of miscellaneous stuff that seems to reproduce exponentially on my dresser.

There have also been a few tugs at heartstrings lately (and when those stings yank, I tend not to practice the piano for some reason).  My mom had the audacity to turn 76 this week.  How on earth did she do THAT?!?  I miss our resident peacock and have been thinking about the various challenges she is going through.  I heard a great message at church that challenged me to make adjustments in some areas, but I’m not sure how to move forward on those.

Then, just a few minutes ago, I realized that it’s fall back day (yippee!), so I took my trusty cell phone and wandered the premises changing all the clocks I could find.  The peskiest one is the clock radio in the kitchen.  I don’t have instructions for it (and even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to find them), so I took several stabs at re-setting it by pressing various buttons with labels like “clock” and “hour” and “DSL, ” all to no avail.  Whenever I released a button, the display zapped right back to 4:29 PM, even though I had clearly set it to 3:29 PM.  Oh, well.  Probably one of my geekish techno-boys will be able to figure out how to re-set it.  It wouldn’t really matter, except that the display is so darn huge.  Even I can see it from way across the room.  It is a clock display to be reckoned with, and honestly, it would truly bug me to spend the next five months having the wall clock and microwave clock say one thing and the monster radio say something an hour later.

Maybe I should just go practice the piano.   = )

These things I know and have been assured of

1.  God watches over me at all times.  He saw to it that my van tire went flat in the driveway, after I drove 36 miles home.  Alone.  In the dark.

2.  The spare tire for our van is not in the back (due to the rear seat well), but rather under the right side.

3.  There are access pins that must be released to get the spare tire out.

4.  I know that because the owner’s manual says so.

5.  However, it seems that those pins don’t exist on our van.  Therefore, until Scott proves otherwise, we assume that for all practical purposes, the van has no spare tire.

6.  Wal-Mart fixes flats for $10.

7.  It’s pretty stupid to jack your van facing downhill.

8.  If you choose to disregard #8, it’s stupider to do so without setting the parking brake first.

9.  God watches over me at all times, even when I am stupid.

10.  No persons, vehicles, or equipment were harmed in the changing of this tire.

Jeopardy quiz

Answer:  Scott’s grilled ham and swiss cheese sandwich on homemade honey oatmeal bread with mayonnaise, mustard, slices of the fourth and final red pepper and the very last vine-ripened tomato of the season.

Question:  What was the first item cooked on Walnut Shade Mom’s new flat glass stovetop?

(Note that Scott drove nine miles home to eat this sandwich on his lunch break from jury duty.  When he returned at 1:00 PM, he was excused, but it took 36 miles and five and a half hours of time to receive that information.)

Answer:  Impossible Chicken and Broccoli Pie.

Question:  What was the first meal Walnut Shade Mom prepared in her new fancy-schmancy-I’m-not-even-sure-how-to-turn-this-thing-on oven?

The new oven is definitely a very nifty toy.  It is also quite clean.  Ask me about that in a year.  Or fourteen.


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