Just a Good Dog Story with Horses

My intuition tells me that Bruce Baby killed a cat.  I believe that is why he ended up in a shelter. When I adopted him at almost 7 years of age, there were a lot of other assumptions.  This boy, who came with his name, must have been tied to a rope via harness most of his life.  Not only did he have a bald spot and scabs where a harness would be but he lunges at everything that moves.  Bikes, hikers, other dogs, walkers, cars, runners, you name it, he comes unglued.

My other two dogs get to hike with me on the trails around town but when I take Bruce, we need to go to the middle of nowhere.

It was a beautiful spring day, spring break no less, and I loaded him into my truck and off we went.  40 minutes later we are on an old abandoned forest service road, he is off leash and I am feeling a welling up in my heart as this is what true happiness feels like.  Wondering how to bottle this feeling and take regular doses during work days.  We are about 1/2 a mile in when I see a horse.  I call Bruce over, leash him and am aware as anyone with a bad dog would be.  I even stop to take a picture of this lone horse offset by a snowy mountain.  Then we see more horses, and then some more.  At this point there are 7 horses and we quietly turn back as there is no point in getting closer, he is just going to freak out.

Then I hear it.  The earth starts to rumble...ok, maybe I am exaggerating, but it was loud.  A stampede.  There was a barbed wire fence on the other side of the old road and trying to get me, my back pack and a bad dog on a leash under a barbed wire fence in time is no easy task.  We made it in time not to be trampled by horses that in reality stopped short of us.  Now I count 28, no wait, 41, really, more?  By the time I am done counting I count 62 horses on the other side of the fence on the hill looking down at us.  The problem is is that Bruce Baby is flipping out and we are caught in brambles.  We have to navigate through them which is far from fun.

What is worse is that these horses are following us, every flipping last one!  We were being attacked by friendly horses.  So Bruce lunges through the barbed wire, comes back all bloody.  I am not sure what he cut as blood is everywhere.  A bloody possessed dog, horses that won't go away, and brambles that are tearing me apart, I thought we weren't ever going to get out of there! Tipi Hedren, you have nothing on us...sure, birds can fly but these are big ass horses that won't let us be.

And after 20 minutes of terror (even from the other side of the fence, that many in your face horses are unnerving), they stampeded back to where they came from and we were free.  We crawled back under the fence both of us looking quite haggard and made it to the truck. Bruce had a gash on his nose and a cut on his ear but not nearly as bad as it looked during "the panic".  It was the longest mile of my life yet looking back on it I chuckle.  Curious horses, probably looking for a treat.  Nothing like hindsight to put things in perspective but at the time I had no idea what I was going to do.  

That is the great thing about the wilderness, you always come out with a great story.

Calendula, the Bright Orange Giver

Every now and then I will have some unexplainable affinity with something.  It doesn't make sense but certain things really resonate with me.  I'm especially drawn to fireweed.  For years I would go into the mountains and dig up little shoots but it never took root in my garden.  Much to my surprise I found some seed packets of Fireweed when I was in Alaska 6 years ago.  I brought them back, planted them, watered them with love, and even talked to them looking about first to make sure all of my neighbors were inside.  I was so excited to have my very own fireweed.  As they grew and grew something didn't look right.  Not sure if the seed manufacturer messed up or if the people of Alaska were saying, "Ha Ha, Fireweed is ours!". What grew instead was Calendula.  Turned out to be a new love affair.

Calendula is pretty (some even say happy), grows in any soil, and is anti bacterial, anti fungal, has anti inflammatory and antiseptic properties.  It can be used medicinally, in culinary, in cosmetics, and aromatically.  Calendula is from the Latin calendulae which means little calendar or little clock.  This   nicely ties in with its habit of closing its petals when there is no sun.  Propogate from seed sown autumn or spring and it will self seed profusely.  Also regular dead heading ensures you will get the most flowers.

If choosing to grow a medicinal garden, you can't go wrong with calendula.  Calendula salve is so easy to make and has become a staple in my medicine cabinet.  I use it for chapped lips, minor wounds, burns and bruises.  It is also excellent for babies.  Here is a site that gives you a fast and a long version (time wise).  I always use the longer version.  Make sure you have dried your petals completely as any dampness in the oil causes mold.  I dry mine on an old window screen on a sunny wind free day.  If you are going to use lavender oil make sure it is therapeutic grade.  You don't want to make a beautiful salve and spoil it with synthetics.

http://adelightfulhome.com/how-to-make-calendula-salve-and-why-you-should/

You can also cook with calendula.  It was once known as the poor man's saffron.  Fresh or dried petals can be added to rice, salads, and sprinkled over sweet dishes or baked in breads.  Zucchini bread is especially lovely with these bright orange and yellow petals sprinkled throughout.   Throw in some lavender buds and your friends will wonder why you are spoiling them so.

Now is the time to make room in your garden for this wonderful giving flower. Make sure your seed packets say Calendula Officinalis.  There are other related species that do not have the same medicinal value.

Ahhhh, bacon!

I eat bacon like a BOSS.  Bacon is something I make so that I can eat it while I am cooking something else.  And yes, a package of bacon is ONE serving.  A pound of bacon has 200 grams of fat but you normally get 12 ounces per package, so you do the math.  And if you have switched to happy bacon like I have you will get a mere 8-10 oz, which to me is a pretty good appetizer per fat ratio.  I mean I do drink green smoothies for breakfast and almost always have a salad for lunch and I can rationalize anything.  Bacon is so delicious I have never felt guilty eating it, until recently.  UNTIL I learned about factory farming.  I threw in a viewing of Babe for good measure and now I can hardly stomach going down the bacon aisle.

I guess I have known this all along (but chose to put it out of my pretty little head as the taste of swine is divine) but the clincher for me was watching This American Life, the video series.  One
episode was dedicated to documenting pigs and genetic science.  Before entering "the barn" the film
crew had to pretty much ensure that their whole being was sterile.  They wore masks, sterile outfits (with matching shoes), and had to sterilize their cameras.  If even one pig gets an outside germ it could kill them ALL because they are so pumped with antibiotics and steroids they no longer have immune systems.  These sweet creatures have never seen the sun or felt grass on their feet.  They aren't even able to turn around in their pen if that is what you want to call it.  Convicted 
murderers have better quarters.  I could share more but it ain't a pretty picture.  Watch the episode and tell me you haven't changed.

Bacon, up until this point, has been deemed my lover and now I have found out the truth.  Like many past lovers, once you know the truth, there is no going back.  (There has to be a way we can work it out!)  I don't want to completely lose my long time companion even if our relationship is no longer
what it used to be.

Swine Wisdom: If you are going to indulge, know where your bacon came from.  You have brought home the bacon and it doesn't come from Hoggett's pastoral farm setting.  (Imagine Babe singing
now.)  The bacon my grandmother ate and the bacon I eat are not the same by a long shot.

My bacon lover and I don't see as much of each other as we used to but when we do get together, it is beautiful. It is free from hormones, antibiotics and I am hoping, was once happy.  I admit my consumption has decreased significantly.  I have been caught sneaking around with some other smokey goodness: eggplant bacon.  Yes, you heard me right.  You can make a pretty good veggie version of bacon.  No, it is not the same, but still pretty darn tasty.

Matthew Kenney's recipe is the best I have tried.  The only problem is that if you are like me, when you want your bacon you want it NOW.  You need to think ahead for this as it requires a day or two of dehydrating.  This brings the loop full circle as I have eaten real bacon while I was making my eggplant bacon. You can always slice the bacon long ways to make it look more swine like.  

 Bon Appetit!

http://www.choosingraw.com/eggplant-bacon-raw-and-vegan/

When in Rome... My March Madness Fried Beer "Problem"

I do not watch or participate in sports for the most part.  Although one season I was on a curling team (Go Natural Born Curlers!) and had a super fun time.  It was my glimpse of being on a team and I do see the appeal.  But watching sports takes up so much time.  Time that could be spent doing something more interesting.  Even the most dreamiest of potential mates become instantly grotesque when I find out their sports watching habits.  If you watch basketball AND football, that is a deal breaker.  Poor women of NASCAR watching boyfriends and husbands.  You must really love watching people drive fast and turn left.  That sport never ends, a perpetual hell.

Having said that, I become a completely different person during March Madness.  I change from "I can't be bothered by sports" to a raving sports fanatic.  It is the most exciting three weeks of the year and for many reasons besides the adrenaline pumping great game of basketball!  As a teacher I design a lesson around it so we can watch it in class, I get to bond with some boys that I may not have bonded with otherwise, and it is a milestone of the school year meaning that summer is right around the corner.

I LOVE March Madness but this year my gut has told me that in the future we need to celebrate a bit differently.  Yet after every game I feel like the person who is non stop banging their head on the wall and wondering why they have a headache.  My intentions are pure but I get to the bar and inevitably order beer and some cheesy or fried thing.

I am not doing this to be in the "in" crowd.  I am honestly having a hard time flexing my health muscle.  I TRULY want a beer and nachos (or other delectable bar food) and don't come to my senses until I get home and FEEL what poor choices I have made.  I am in a quandary.  I am having the time of my life watching this great sport but also beating myself up for making yet another bad food choice.

I am having a food hangover this morning after having watched Wichita State and Syracuse lose last night and in my agony have decided to be a bit kinder to myself.  Instead of hating myself, maybe I should see this as the growing pains of change.  The first step is realizing there is a problem.   My stomach can't handle much more of this.

Will I listen to my gut on Monday night while I watch the championship game or will I take the attitude of when in Rome?  Either way, I have decided to love myself and am happy knowing it is the final game.  Maybe by next year my health muscle will be bigger and I will acknowledge my gut instinct.

Who will win?  I don't really care.  I just want it to be a good game and am hoping for some overtime.