by Kathy Brasby | Oct 1, 2020 | Family, Humor, Stories
The other day, I opened our upright freezer and watched the Abominable Snowman ski down the ice and into the bottom drawer.
Hmm, I thought, maybe it’s time to defrost.
Take pity on my family. Decry my lack of character. But I like defrosting a freezer as much I like trimming toenails on our dog. But, speaking of the dog, there was an idea.
Our dog is a friendly guy and he eats like a healthy teenage boy. I don’t need to just toss him a bone. I can toss him a sliced eggplant and he’d give it a try. Birthday cake, zucchini, sour cream – all snarfed up quickly.
He even drinks almond milk if it comes his way.
So Scout was intrigued by the carton of vanilla ice cream I managed to tug from the icy grip of the freezer.
To be honest, there was only about an inch of vanilla ice crystals in the bottom of the carton but Scout licked all the ice cream and then tore the carton to shreds.
So, for my project tally: one item out of the freezer and now lying like confetti in the backyard. Score. I think. The jury may still be out on that.
I found five ice cube trays filled with egg whites and yolks. One year, when I had too many eggs, I thought this would be a good way to save excess eggs. Maybe it was but it would have been better to take the egg cubes out of the trays after they froze.
I mean immediately because when I did take them out of the trays the other day, they were powdered eggs. Surprisingly, Scout didn’t care much for them.
I rescued some frozen cookies. They weren’t too bad and, besides, is there really a bad home-baked cookie? They got eaten – and not by Scout. I have young men around and they still remember the pleasure of teenage eating patterns.
I found a quarter of a bag of Brussel sprouts encased in ice. When did I buy those? I can’t think of one recipe I use that calls for Brussel sprouts and I don’t think anybody in the family will touch them.
You’re thinking that Scout might but I didn’t give them to Scout. I have chickens for things like that. This may explain how Scout sometimes gives them the evil eye when he wanders past their run. They got a treat he missed out on.
I also uncovered a bag of sausages. Or hot dogs. Or aged cucumbers. I was not really sure so I left them for further review. Later. And I stepped away slowly.
There were shelves of question-mark bags that will need review. They seem to fall into the category of “Why on earth did I save that?”
But, in watching Scout’s joy as he pulverizes a carton of frozen bone broth, maybe I have my answer.
by Kathy Brasby | Sep 24, 2020 | Humor, Stories
Every fall, when the sweet scent of our goat ladies fills the air, Rocket the buck lifts his massive head and lets the perfume of females push any semblance of wisdom out of his brain. He is focused on romance and nothing else matters.
Like fences, for example. Fences don’t matter.
Rocket spent several months in his own private pasture – his bachelor pad complete with shed, water tank, and lots of green grass. All he needed was a popcorn machine and he’d be set.
Until fall came. Suddenly the fence between him and the girls was nothing more than a slight distraction. There was actually a small but empty pasture between him and the does but he somehow appeared in the buffer pasture.
The second fence line was no different than the first but two fences in a row were apparently too much to manage. So far. But we didn’t like our odds because if he could clear one fence, he could clear another.
So why didn’t he? Maybe we were assuming incorrectly about his fence ability. We hid behind the trash dumpster and watched.
Wouldn’t you hide behind a trash dumpster if you wanted to watch your male goat scale a fence? Yeah, well, the neighbors sure speeded up as soon as they saw the scene. Pedal to the metal, zoom, and they were out of sight. Like your kids when you announce it’s time to clean the house. Zip, zoom, gone.
We ignored the neighbors so we were watching when Rocket reared back, put two front hooves midway up the fence, and pulled it down. Our boy wasn’t a pole vaulter. In fact, he was barely a hurdler. Once he pulled the fence down, he was more of a hopper.
He made a beeline for the second fence and I raced into the pen to grab him before he used that hip-hop strategy again. I led him back into his own pasture and straightened up the woven wire. Maybe if I laced some 2x4s through the wire, he couldn’t push it down.
I turned my back to look for boards and he was at the second fence again. Like Star Trek transport. Fading out and then fading in at the fence line. This was handy stuff for our Rocket in love.
Back he went to his own pasture.
I then started for the second fence, to study any weaknesses there. He beat me to the second fence.
That was pretty fast hip-hop. “Scotty, beam me up” fast. “Look at me, Mom” while riding a bicycle down a steep hill kind of fast. Rocket on jet skies.
His big fluttering eyes and flashing white teeth impressed me much less than the does and I took him back to his pasture. Maybe I was a little grumpy this time. I’m not admitting to anything.
I blinked and he was at the second fence again.
We had words.”Rocket, you will get your time with the girls. Just not yet. You gotta wait a little while.”
He went over the fence again.
We finally ran a single strand of electric fence along the top of the woven wire. The next time Rocket had Scotty slide the levers for transport, he got a little jolt of electricity on the nose. He was pretty shocked at this development but circled around like a kid zoning in on the cookie jar.
It only took lovestruck Rocket two buzzes on the nose until he stayed in his own pen.
He might not have had much wisdom in that lovestruck brain but apparently an electric fence spoke his language.
by Kathy Brasby | Sep 17, 2020 | Family, Humor, Stories
In the spring, when the world ran out of toilet paper and gallons of milk were rationed, I naturally decided this was the year to plant a garden.
I’ve planted gardens before but I avoid them because of a character defect: I hate to pull the weeds in the garden.
But this year, I vowed, would be different. That is my usual garden spring vow but let’s not go there. It had been years since I planted a garden and I figured I had matured a bit.
My dear husband had a better idea. Why didn’t I use raised garden plots so I didn’t have to get down on my knees to weed? And he happened to have some plastic 55-gallon barrels that we could cut in half, drill holes in the bottom for drainage, and have the garden we’d always dreamt of.
You know, low maintenance and high produce.
We put in compost and fertilizer and top soil and then planted. Tomatoes. Peppers. Acorn squash. Pumpkin.Onions. Zucchini.
The plants started to grow with great gusto. I watered, I weeded, they grew. Reasonable partnership, I thought.
And then I noticed the tomato plant leaves were starting to curl. What in the world? I checked. The ground was moist. There were NO WEEDS in the pot.
Soon the other tomato plants began to wither. The green pepper plants lost their leaves and the pumpkin greenery sprawled on the ground like a sloth.
The zucchini vine threw out a single squash and then breathed its last. One tomato plant produced three tomatoes but had no leaves left. Once the tomatoes were plucked from its twiggy trunk, it went into hibernation. That’s commitment to your offspring, I’d say.
The jalapeño plant looked great, however, and there hung several fiery-red peppers about an inch long. I could almost hear them snarl when I removed them from the plant. If bugs were the issue, as I was starting to suspect, they apparently had no taste for feisty jalapeños.
So, from my grand garden plans, I harvested 3 pink tomatoes, one zucchini squash, and 12 microscopic but muscular jalapeño peppers.
At this point, my garden resembles a bomb site with green sticks standing askew in the barrels.
There’s good news and bad news to this story. The good news is that I don’t have to can or freeze or dry any produce. The bad news….
Well, as my daughter said, “Mother, you managed to kill a zucchini?”
But there were no weeds in its pot, so I guess it’s all good news.
by Kathy Brasby | Sep 3, 2020 | Stories
N.T. Wright says Christians are in exile, in a place we currently find uncomfortable, confusing, and sometimes oppressive.
Frank Viola says we’re in transition. I’ve followed Frank off and on since he was deep in the organic church movement. He’s written some books that rocked my boat, including Pagan Christianity, Reimagining Church, and Insurgence.
Frank speaks to those Christians who suspect “there’s got to be more than this.”
I think it’s very important to read widely and think deeply. We might (huh, we will) find ourselves challenged when we do that but, if we only stay in our small bubble of thinking, we miss much. Read much and be discerning.
But I digress. I wanted to introduce you to Frank’s blog and especially his post on transitions. He has practical advice for Jesus followers.
I hope you’ll take a look. Here’s his blog post: 5 Things To Do When in Transition
And here’s a list of his books: Books by Frank Viola
by Kathy Brasby | Aug 29, 2020 | Stories
Let me tell you a little bit about one project that I have been working on since March. I was asked to write a chapter for “Death, Where is Your Sting?” a new book from Shari Howard McMinn. The book comes out on August 30 – which is National Grief Awareness Day – and I’ll get you an Amazon link when the book is available.
In my chapter, I shared the story of my mother’s five-year battle after a massive stroke. She died in 2017 and writing this chapter helped me honor her memory.
I hope you’ll pick up the book when it’s available. Grief is not black despair. It is suffering, no question, but suffering often can re-shape our priorities. How many times have you heard of someone, upon losing a loved one, to encourage others to reach out to their loved ones? Priorities shift our outlook – and often give us more compassion to our loved ones as well as come alongside others grieving.
It’s good preparation and I encourage you to consider the book.
by Kathy Brasby | Mar 23, 2020 | Stories
I’ve enjoyed sharing some stories with you on this website but now I’m going to take a break for a while. I have several big projects looming and I want to get a handle on them. I hope to take the stories I’ve shared and compile them into a small book. You’ll hear about that when I get that goal done (another of my big projects.) Thanks for your encouragement. I’ll be sharing things from time to time so I hope you stay tuned.