What day is it?

The days are seriously all running into each other.  I wake up in the morning and think to myself: Do I go to work today or not?  Is Wally working today or not?  My internal clock is so screwed up: I went to bed around 8:30 last night, before Wally.  He came in the bedroom maybe 10 minutes later and said “You didn’t set the alarm.”  I bolted out of bed like I just got electrocuted.  I thought I had forgotten to set the alarm and that we both over slept.  Geez.

Well, I don’t work today (at least not at MM) or tomorrow.  Wally is working five hours today.  I am going riding with my endurance riding friends taking Ace this time.  We got him fitted up for the Marciante saddle and martingale.  I need to mark which settings go with him and which with Sudi.  I’m getting picked up again, which is nice.  While I can drive the truck pulling the trailer, I’m still nervous about it.  If all goes well, I’ll be riding with another lady on Thursday.  Hopefully that will work out because where we will be riding is really nice.

I brought home some pizza dough from MM yesterday with the intention of practicing pizza making over the weekend.  Of course I could make my own dough, and eventually I will, but for now I want to practice with the type of dough that MM uses.  I sort of think they are not going to actually let me make pizza, but I’m going to try to work myself into that role.  I’m getting a little bit bored with prep and would like to expand my horizons some.  I’ll write later on how the pizza making goes.

Hunting season starts today!!!!!  Halleluiah!  That means venison scraps which will make all of the carnivores very, very, very happy.  I know they are bored to death with chicken, beef organ scraps and raw milk.  I’d like to say eggs have been on their menu, but alas, the chickens are still not laying well.  They have another month to get back into the program before I start aggressively culling.  I have got to get to the point where I can completely utilize these chickens and that means when they are through laying, they need to be humanely killed and then eaten.  I found this post this morning and found it very inspiring.  The author writes:

My hand held the memory of her warm feathery head in against my fingers for awhile afterwards. This is the thought that went through my mind as I watched the chicken die, “I eat meat. This is what that means.” I felt gratitude to the bird and to the farmer. I understood the seriousness and finality of the taking of a life, but not remorse at doing so. I had told myself ahead of time that if I could not kill and process a chicken on my own that it would be time to reconsider being a meat eater.”

I feel the same way, except in all the years now I’ve been raising animals for the food that they provide, I have not got to the point where I kill, process and eat the meat.  I’m a wimp about it, either I let someone else do the killing or I feed the meat to the dogs and cats.  I’ll be getting there with the rabbits soon enough, I need to get there with the chickens and eventually the goats.  It’s stupid to pay a processor to do the goats.  It will cost us way too much money.

What I do know is that we are feeding way too many chickens and not getting enough eggs to justify their keep.  I’m giving them another month to see if it was the heat that slowed them down or if they are indeed too old to lay well.

We had a tasty dinner last night which included some baby eggplants still growing in the garden.  I roasted the eggplant with onions, garlic and a couple of Cherokee Purple tomatoes that I picked up at a farm stand earlier this week.  Once the vegetables were pretty well done, I added some diced chicken breast and continued cooking until the chicken was done.

I am so wasteful sometimes … I threw away more eggplant than we ate this year.  Stupid.

Until later …