Product Review Monday

I don't like credit cards. Don and I were in deep credit-card debt for many, many years while we raised our girls on a shoestring budget and an unsteady woodcrafter's income. Now we live an all-cash lifestyle with the exception of our regular monthly bills (about $500/month) which are on automatic payment on our (single) credit card. Needless to say, we pay the bill off in full the instant we receive it in the mail. Now that we no longer owe money, the sense of freedom that comes from not having revolving debt on the [bleepity] credit card never stops.

Which is why this week's book recommendation is entitled "Maxed Out: Hard Times, Easy Credit and the Era of Predatory Lenders" by James D. Scurlock. Written in 2007 just before the 2008 recession, if anything it's even more relevant today as it discusses predatory lending practices by the credit-card companies.

Some of the stories in the book are ugly. Many are heartbreaking. But all underscore the importance of not enslaving one's self to credit if at all possible. If you're vaguely aware that credit cards are bad news but can't quite pinpoint why, this book will explain. Highly recommended.

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Don's product recommendation this week is his good ol' Yankee push-drill. 

He keeps this in his everyday toolbox for those times he needs a fast hole drilled in wood or plastic. It's non-electric and fits in tight spaces.

The drill bits are stored in the top of the handle.

Don's a tool guy, and while he has the full cadre of power tools, he also has a lot of hand tools for times when batteries die or power isn't available or (in this case) spaces are too tight to permit a power drill. An excellent stocking stuffer for your DIY types.

(Obligatory disclaimer: This post contains affiliate links. As an Amazon Affiliate, if you purchase through those links, we earn a small commission.)

(Don't forget: A complete list of all our book and product recommendations are linked here and at the upper-right column of the blog.)

Hostility in the garden

Don called me outside to the back porch the other day to see a visitor. "Bring your camera," he advised.

This was the visitor:

This lady seemed wary of all the attention she was getting, but praying mantises are always calm, cool, and collected.

She s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d out and climbed onto Don's circular saw, which was lying on the porch.

Eventually I scooped her onto a stick and brought her into the garden.

I got distinctly hostile vibes from her, y'know? I think all praying mantises are hostile by default.

"You lookin' at me?"

But that's okay. She can be as hostile as she wants in the garden.

Now go forth and conquer.

Interestingly, Older Daughter found this beauty in her shop just a few hours later. 'Tis the season for praying mantises, it seems.

Raising a roof

A neighbor is building a barn. For some time now, we've watched the progress from afar. Now it was time to lift things onto the posts.

This neighbor is a former general contractor, so he knows what he's doing. He had ratchets at the top of each upright, ready to hoist each corner of the roof-truss unit into the air.

He conscripted the assistance of three other men in the neighborhood, including Don, to turn the cranks on the ratchets. Manning the cranks took a cool head for heights – the trusses were being raised to 16 feet high, so the men were standing about 13 feet up the ladders.

Remember our older neighbor Bill? That's him on the right.

Our neighbor's wife's job and my job was to measure the progress to confirm the corners of the unit were being raised evenly. Here it's up by about two feet.

Slowly, crank by crank, the men lifted the roof trusses into the air. Every fifteen cranks or so, we women would measure to make sure the corners were at the same level.

That's Don on the right.

This is the roof-truss unit at its full height. Our neighbor will spend a few days securing the trusses in place. The second roof-truss unit is in back, and we'll help raise it in the next week or so.

Here's what the proto-barn looks like from a more distant location.

This neighbor has needed a barn since he and his wife moved in a few years ago. It's nice to see it coming to fruition ... especially if, as some reports predict, we're in for a hard winter. Now his livestock will have shelter.

My latest Amish romance is available!

My latest Amish romance, "An Amish Marriage Agreement," is now available.

Here's the back cover blurb:

An unexpected family might be what they need to heal.

Amish basket-maker Olivia Bontrager moves to Montana looking for a fresh start…and finds instead her sister’s abandoned baby on her doorstep. Determined to give her niece a stable life, she accepts help from handyman Andrew Eicher, who offers a shocking proposal: a marriage of convenience. Now, after long resigning herself to spinsterhood, Olivia suddenly has the home and family she’s always yearned for, and Andrew’s betrayed heart slowly begins to open up again. But when Olivia’s sister reappears and jeopardizes the happiness they’ve found, will they be brave enough to fight for the future they both want?

It's funny – sometimes my Amish books generate a lot of reader emails, and sometimes they generate none. This one, for whatever reason, seems to have struck a chord. I've received several reader emails already, and the book has barely been available. Go figure.

As a new release, the book was featured at the top of Harlequin's Love Inspired category:

Decent Amazon stats so far:

At any rate, the book can be purchased either through Harlequin or Amazon:

• Harlequin

• Amazon

Enjoy!

Cow in the freezer and milking woes

Early in the morning on August 18, a mobile butcher came in and dispatched Filet, our eight-year-old Angus cow.

Filet had been earmarked for the freezer since we got her. She was a former range cow and was still, even after having her for 18 months, extremely stand-offish. Not aggressive, just not friendly. As an older animal, we knew she wouldn't be worth much more than ground beef (and tenderloin!).

For the actual dispatching, we had her corralled in this "chute" on the south side of the barn.

The animals are very familiar with this chute – it's usually open – so Filet experienced no stress or anxiety when we shooed her in around 5:45 am Monday morning. I didn't milk Maggie that morning, either, but just left Stormy (Maggie's calf) out of her pen for the night. Don and I shooed the rest of the herd into another pasture (including her six-month-old calf Romeo) until the deed was done.

Who was stressed and anxious in the days leading up to the slaughter was ME. I don't like killing things anyway, but there was also a LOT of residual stress left over from our last home, where we had a bunch of cobbled-together and often ineffective methods of confining animals before the butchers arrived, and several times animals escaped. Ug, I hate burchering days.

This is the first time we've had an animal butchered here in our new home, using the services of a new (to us) butcher. The actual dispatching is done by one party (an independent mobile dispatcher) and the hanging and cutting is done by a butchering business in a nearby town.

Since the mobile dispatcher lives just a short distance away, we asked him to drop by in advance so he could look over our setup and make sure everything was satisfactory.

You never met a nicer fellow than this dispatcher – knowledgeable and professional. He assured us the setup was fine. The plan was to drop Filet, bleed her out, then take the carcass to the butcher shop, where it will hang for 10 or 12 days before being cut up.

To say it went smooth as silk is to only hint at how easy it was. This morning Don and I hit the corral about 20 minutes before the butcher was due to show up (which he did promptly at 6 am), shooed Filet into the chute and shooed the rest of the livestock into the sacrifice pasture. It took five minutes and no one was the slightest bit alarmed.

The mobile dispatcher did the job with one bullet. Don (who was out with him) said Filet dropped like a rock and never knew what hit her. In other words, extremely fast and humane.

Naturally this leaves Romeo (and Mignon, her yearling calf) bereft of their mama, so there's that. Romeo is six months old, so plenty old enough to wean, but we wondered how he would react.

The first day, he didn't even appear to notice she was missing. Here's Romeo and Mignon, just hanging around in the sacrifice pasture below the barn.

In fact, except for a few bellows here and there, Romeo has done absolutely fine. It's been over a week now, and he doesn't appear to miss his mama at all.

Interestingly, the whole dynamic of the barn has changed now. Filet was unquestionably the alpha cow. To be honest, she was something of a bully to the other animals, including our Jersey Maggie. Now Maggie, as senior animal, has stepped into the role of alpha, and she's much nicer. In short, things are a lot calmer at the feed box.

However (and on a homestead, there's always a "however"), Romeo has found a major way to be obnoxious. He's discovered Maggie has milk. And since almost all Jerseys are what we call "universal donors" (meaning, very generous with their milk), he's been diving for the udder the moment I release Maggie from the milking stall each morning.

Here Stormy (Maggie's calf) is on the left, and Romeo is on the right.

This morning, I overslept a bit and didn't make it out to the barn until about 6:10 am. Stormy, of course, was locked away in the calf pen, but Romeo was avidly slurping away on Maggie. I got Maggie into the milking stall (forcibly locking Romeo out – he wanted to follow!) and settled down to milk Maggie.

I shouldn't have wasted my time. Poor Maggie had been drained dry. I barely got two ounces and just gave up. I released Maggie from the milking stall, then released Stormy from the calf pen. Both calves immediately dove for Maggie's udder, but Romeo had taken everything. Even Stormy didn't get her breakfast.

Okay, new plan: We're going to have to keep Romeo away from Maggie at night. We can't lock him in the calf pen with Stormy because there simply isn't enough room. (Remember, we had to shoehorn the calf pen and milking stall into a very tight corner of the barn.)

A fall project Don wants to accomplish before winter is to build an awning on the backside of the barn to give the animals extra space and shelter over the winter. We've decided to build a holding pen for Romeo into this awning space.

But that won't help for the immediate time being when it comes to milking Maggie. Filet has been gone over a week now, and this is the first time Romeo beat me to the milk, so to speak, probably because I overslept. I guess in the immediate, I just need to get out to the barn earlier and beat him to the faucet.

It's always something, y'know?

The tick theory

Many years ago, when we lived in southwest Oregon, we had loads and loads of ticks. It was revolting, but it was life. We learned to keep a can of soapy water next to the sink during tick season so we could drop ticks we found on the dogs (or on us) into the water. The soap broke up the surface tension of the water, and the ticks would sink to the bottom.

When we moved to Idaho in 2003, we had fewer ticks. Some years were worse than others, but overall it was a lot better than Oregon.

Here in our current location, we have almost zero ticks. Maybe – maybe – once a summer, we'll find a tick or two on Mr. Darcy, but overall it's almost a tick-free environment.

We didn't give much thought to this phenomenon until a man at our church put forth what I'm calling "The Tick Theory." We don't have ticks because we have turkeys. Loads and loads of turkeys.

As I'm mentioned before, turkeys are nature's Roombas. All year long, flocks of these gigantic prehistoric-looking birds roam around, pecking at anything they find that's vaguely edible. At certain times of the year, it's not unusual to see flocks numbering in the dozens. Get one of these flocks sweeping slowly across fields and woodlands, and yeah – no ticks. Makes sense.

I'd far rather have turkeys than ticks.

Product Review Monday

Today's recommended book is entitled "A Country Year: Living the Questions" by Sue Hubbell.

Here's the Amazon description: "Alone on a small Missouri farm after a thirty-year marriage, Sue Hubbell found a new love – of the winged, buzzing variety. Left with little but the commercial beekeeping and honey-producing business she started with her husband, Hubbell found solace in the natural world. Then she began to write, challenging herself to tell the absolute truth about her life and the things she cared about."

To be honest, this description doesn't even begin to capture the charm of this book. It was first published in 1986. I was working as a legal secretary at a law firm in downtown Sacramento at the time, and the book absolutely enchanted me. I bought ten copies as Christmas presents for friends. It's that good.

Hubbell's writing style is warm, clear, humorous, humble, and in all ways magnificent. If you're interested in the life of a solitary beekeeper in the Ozarks in the 1980s, you can't go wrong with "A Country Year."

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With winter on our minds, Don's product recommendation is the STABILicers Maxx 2 Heavy-Duty Traction Cleats.

We've tried cleats before. Many years ago in our old house, I purchased a relatively inexpensive pair, strapped them on, and tried walking to our mailbox and back (a three-mile round trip). Within half a mile, the cleat straps broke. So much for that pair.

These are far and away the very best we've found. The individual cleats are even replaceable if they ever wear out. I can't even begin to express how much safer it is to walk during snowy or icy conditions while wearing these – the difference is night and day.

We've had these cleats for six years now, and in winter we just keep them strapped to our boots by default. These boot cleats are worth their weight in gold for anyone walking in icy conditions. Highly recommended.

(Obligatory disclaimer: This post contains affiliate links. As an Amazon Affiliate, if you purchase through those links, we earn a small commission.)

(Don't forget: A complete list of all our book and product recommendations are linked here and at the upper-right column of the blog.)

Some days, it's just not worth getting out of bed

Let me tell you about my morning in the barn. Keep in mind you can't really visualize the layout of everything I mention, but that's okay. Just soak up the chaos.

With sunrise getting later, I've been going out to the barn to milk Maggie around 5:45 am. This morning, when I tried to open the gate into the livestock side of the barn, I couldn't get it open because Romeo was lying down in front of it.

(This is what the gate looks like. This photo was taken before the milking stall and calf pen were built in the space to the left.)

My hands were full with the milking buckets in one hand and a scoop of grain in the other. I poked and prodded at Romeo through the space at the bottom of the gate, but he wouldn't move.

So I put down the buckets and the grain, and got more serious about poking and prodding him ("Come on, Romeo, move!"), but nothing doing. He was quite comfortable, thank you, and didn't see a reason to get up.

So I had to go outside the barn and go through two side gates to get into the corral, which got the other cows all excited. ("Are we going out that gate today? Yippee!") But Romeo hadn't moved. He was still comfortably bedded down in front of the gate.

So I shooed him up, slipped through the gate to grab the grain and milk buckets I'd left on the other side, only to turn around and be confronted by Maggie who wanted her grain right now. I managed to dart into the outer milking pen and slam the gate in Maggie's face before she could get in. I put down the grain and milking buckets and managed to get Stormy, the calf, back into the inner pan (Stormy has access to both pens overnight).

(This is the current setup, with the milking stall to the left, the inner calf pen in center-back, and the outer pen in center-front. The gate Romeo was blocking is to the right.)

Then I put the grain in Maggie's grain bucket on the other side of the head gate, opened the milking stall door, and let her in. She settled into her grain, I got the milking stool and leg tie from the shelf where I keep them, tied up Maggie's back let, and started milking.

Everything was going fine. Maggie was eating her grain. The rest of the animals were patiently waiting for breakfast (we've been feeding hay mornings and evenings since the pastures are pretty much eaten down). Stormy was quiet and patient, waiting for me to finish milking before she got her own breakfast.

Maggie finished her grain and, as she always does, took a step back in the milking stall. This is the point where I readjust her leg-tie and keep milking.

But wait, Maggie didn't stop. She kept backing out of the milking stall. Whaaaat? How is this even happening? What are you doing? Keep in mind Maggie's back leg was still tied. I yanked the end of the slip knot so she wouldn't trip and panic, and she continued backing all the way out of the stall.

It took me a moment to realize, in the chaotic moments before I started milking, I didn't lock Maggie's neck into the head gate of the milking stall.

(You can see the head gate in the closed position at the end of the milking stall below. Her grain bucket is on the other side.)

Well, there was nothing else to do but release Stormy (who got an exceptionally rich breakfast as a result) and fetch the tie off Maggie's leg. I fed the animals and came back into the house, sporting a nearly empty milk bucket.

The annoying thing is, I still had to clean and sanitize everything as if I'd gotten a full day's milking, rather than the pathetic one pint I managed to get.

Some days, it's just not worth getting out of bed.

Sales are booming!

Sales of "Rachel's Folly" are booming!

We won't get official sales numbers for another week or so, but I've been taking screenshots of the book's ranking on Amazon. Early yesterday morning, here's where it stood:

As of this morning, take a gander at the difference!

This is all due to YOU, dear readers. Thank you for your support!

It's Book Bomb Day for "Rachel's Folly" !!

Finally, after weeks of waiting (and a glitch in the publishing matrix!), we're pleased to announce the availability of my sweet indy romance, "Rachel's Folly"!!

If you're interested in purchasing it, both the Kindle and print version can be found here.

Now here's the thing: If you purchase the book today – Wednesday, August 20 – it forms what's called a "book bomb" and helps ratchet up the ratings on Amazon. Consequently this makes it more likely that anyone searching for the "tags" attached to my book on Amazon (such as sweet romance, contemporary romance, etc.) will see my book higher up on the list of possible purchase choices. Ahem. Hint hint.

Once you've read the book, please post a review! The more reviews the book receives, the more likely Amazon will place it on "recommended" lists.

Additionally, we would like to ask a sincere favor: To please post its availability on any social media you may have. Remember, this story is clean enough for your Grandma to read without blushing.

(Please note, the above links to Rachel's Folly use our affiliate account, which is permitted. This means we earn a small commission with each purchase.)

Thank you all for your support! Woot!

A glitch in the (publishing) matrix

Due to a series of unfortunate events, the official launching of "Rachel's Folly" – which was supposed to happen today – is being delayed for a little while longer.

Honestly, KDP (Kindle Direct Print) is a pain in the patookus. Don went in last night to check something. He didn't touch anything, but apparently his mere presence was enough to reset the book to "draft," which means an automatic delay of 72 hours before it's available in print. Grrr.

Sorry about this. We're still groping around and feeling our way through this whole self-publishing venture. I'll announce the official release when things settle down. Once again ... stand by!

Product Review Monday

This week's book review is entitled "It Takes a Village Idiot" by Jim Mullen.

I'm a sucker for urban-to-rural migration stories. Bonus points if they're funny. Mullen's book is both.

Per the Amazon description:

Millions of people dream of abandoning the city routine for a simple country life. Jim Mullen was not one of them. He loved his Manhattan existence: parties, openings, movie screenings. He could walk to hundreds of restaurants, waste entire afternoons at the Film Forum, people-watch from his window. Then, one day, calamity.

His wife quits smoking and buys a weekend house in the Catskill Mountains of upstate New York – in a tiny town diametrically opposed to Manhattan in every way. Slowly, however, the man who once boasted, "Life is just a cab away," begins to warm to the place – manure and compost and strangers who wave and all – and to embrace the kind of life that once gave him the shakes.

From the sneering contempt he once felt for rural life to the gradual change it took to wholeheartedly embrace it, Mullen's book is refreshingly sarcastic and great fun. Highly recommended.

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This week's product recommendation is a follow-up to last week's yogurt-making items: A yogurt strainer.

Once the yogurt is made in the incubator, it's often too liquidy for my taste. A few hours in  this strainer does wonders to thicken it up. This is before:

And this is after:

Here's how much liquid came out:

I used to do the whole suspend-from-a-pillowcase routine, and this is vastly easier (and more sanitary).

The only codicil is the mesh inside the strainer is very delicate, so it must be carefully hand-washed (and never put in a dishwasher). Beyond that, it works beautifully.

(Obligatory disclaimer: This post contains affiliate links. As an Amazon Affiliate, if you purchase through those links, we earn a small commission.)

(Don't forget: A complete list of all our book and product recommendations are linked here and at the upper-right column of the blog.)