Tuesday, August 19, 2008

I'll Be Your Huckleberry.....

Today's Breakfast - 10 am.
Yes.. even though up for hours.. This is my breakfast.
Mama style. Huckleberry waffles...

Eastern Oregon Gold
Huckleberries - and there all mine!

Oh yes.. Tombstone was a chick flick.. lots of eye candy, girls... Lots of eye candy...

'I'll be your Huckleberry...' rolled off of Val Kilmer's luscious (well, as Doc Holiday he was dying from Tuberculosis) ashen lips in Tombstone several years back.. Tombstone was/is one of my all time fave movies... Why, you ask? The scenes...the cowboys...the independent dance hall vixen who I had to be (she was Kurt's babe of choice) the ever so HOT Kurt Russell.. on the big screen, with those awesome brilliant blue eyes against his ever so tan face... Oh my... Which, may be another reason why I fell head over heels in love with my husband.. Cowboy...blue eyes... dark hair... tan working man...

WAIT!!.. Tombstone is NOT the purpose of this post! )And now you are privy to how my mind really wanders!) The real reason for this post, is Huckleberries. And, thinking of Huckleberries, made me think of that Doc Holiday line from the movie.... which I never fully understood...

So to get back to your regular scheduled program, I must start from the beginning...

**** Hold on, grab some java, this will be long *****

If you recall, we dined/played/fire & moon gazed, and set up the camp tent four nights ago... the night of the ever so beautiful full moon... Well, we just could not pass up a repeat... So we did it again on Sunday night, when our temps reached 97 degrees... Oh the delight! When the sun goes down the temps drop rapidly here at 3,500 feet and boy was it a gorgeous clear, crisp evening ...

And since two nights were so darn successful, we decided to do it again last night, with friends. Share the wealth, ya know? ....

So, lamb kabobs were to make a repeat performance... and super sized marshmallows for the S-mores! And, even though the weather predicted a 30 percent chance of thunderstorms - we proceeded with plans.

Guests were to arrive at 7pm.

The storm hit with a vengeance about 6:30 pm. Dick and the kids got caught in the torrent while irrigating.

The power went out about 6:45 pm. I proceeded, by candlelight, in my kitchen to skewer Kabobs. No biggy... I mean, the grill is gas. No problemo.

Guests called at 7pm. to say they were running late and the storm caused major freaky damage in their neck of the woods... but they had power ... I figured they were exaggerating.

Guests arrived. Still no power.

The storm came and went, came and went. We saw a double rainbow, dramatic sunset, wind, and Jake started the fire in the pit all by himself. Dressed like an Eskimo.

Since the temps were 65 degrees, instead of 85, we dined indoors... by candles, lanterns, and great cheer. We all had a blast! The power came back on about 8:30 or 9 pm, but we turned the lights off, no need to interrupt our great fun.....

At some point, my BFF asked why Patchie was not going into his dog house in the rain. 'Oh, he just doesn't use his dog house much' one of us responded. Which is true....no sympathy here.

The kids stayed outdoors making S-mores while the grown-ups laughed and drank around the big table indoors...

The festivities ended about 10:30 pm. The tent was blown down from the storm so the kids slept indoors...

We went to bed...

Ahhh... But the night was not over dear friends.. The night was not over...

About 2 am (I think.. the power had knocked my clock out - so it was flashing some weird time), I heard chickens squawking.. Chickens do not squawk at night.. I bolted awake. Put on some ever so fashionable clothes.. grabbed a flashlight and went to investigate.

I found the squawker outside the pen. And, only 2 chickens were in the house, out of 20... Uh oh.. I thought. Somethin' is nabbin' my chicka wa wa's! (and, the red wine was still flowing in my bloodstream.. so I admit, I was a little twisted...)

I figured somethin' was up.. And went back to bed since no culprets were about.

Repeat squawk and wake up routine 2 more times. Each time I went out, I found a lone chicken outside, and put her in. Oh the madness! What the heck was going on? And why was it just one chicken at a time? Was it an alien abduction? Were aliens dropping them back, one by one? Freaky...

Then, I noticed Mr. Patchie. His chain reaches all the way to the chicken pen. I figured he was freaking out the chickens and keeping them from getting inside (why they were out did not cross my feeble mind) and I decided to shorten his chain... Then, I decided to move that darn house he doesn't use... and dang was it heavy! And DANG didn't the entire house squawk!

Lordy... The chickens in their infinite wisdom took refuge during the storm in Patchie's dog house.. He never touched them! He never ate them! And, I figured, he must have been sticking his nose in each time I heard a squawk and one would run away to their own house...

So, back to the house I went and woke my husband...

'Honey.. Guess where I have been and what I found!'.. By now it was just before 4:30 am...

He woke, got up and helped get all the chickens gathered into their own casa de chicka chicka...

While we were gathering them, his 4:30 alarm went off... (that is how I knew what time it was!)

So... back to bed I went again... for a nice sound slumber until 6:00 am...

Mr. Sexton woke me to 'rouse' the kids for irrigating duties, chores, etc...

Draggin' my body, folks, draggin' my body... I made a simple breakfast for the kids... eggs, and toast...

They came back.. famished... it was decided a 2nd round of breakfasts was in order.

Sami had french french toast (our term for when using a loaf of french bread).. that was restaurant order number one.

Jake had waffles.... restaurant order number two... Normally, I do not have the patience for special orders that take the morning away.. but, like I said, I am dragging...

For Mama?
I had huckleberry waffles, almond butter, a cup of joe, and the Capital Press (the Ag version of Wall Street Journal)...

Which brought us to 10 am... then, Mr. Sexton came home and insisted we fix the tent, and the kids ride the horses... Slave driver... I am still in my jammies and have no plans of going anywhere...except back to bed.

Oh.. and about the Huckleberries.. They are considered gold out here in Eastern Oregon.. Tasty little gems.. I bought a pound of them in Boise... and bring them out for tasty occasions!

Have a great day!

All my appointments have been moved to tomorrow.. Forecast is rain.. So Vacation Wednesday is now moved to Thursday.

This broadcast has been brought to you by one very sleep deprived mother who stayed up way too late, followed by four visits to the chicken house before daylight!

5 comments:

Kerilou said...

Oh...my....goodness! I am tired just thinking about it! I do have to say, I would NOT have been brave enough to go see what was up with those chickens...you are one brave chick! Glad they were all okay, and I hope Patchie got a treat for being falsely accused! You mean thing! LOL!
Kerilou

Penny said...

Another exciting day (and night) at the farm then!! I have to say we don't have huckleberries here and I have never tasted one. Are they similar to blueberries?

Sue McGettigan said...

Mmmmm, Sam Elliott, delicious - er, I mean huckleberries, delicious, yeah, that's it :)

Tami B. said...

Your days are so much more exciting than mine. I do have to say that I adore that movie and oh I agree with Sue about Sam Elliot. yummmy. A bit of trivia for you...Virgil Earpe was the town marshall for the city my hubby works for.

ginny said...

Okay, this story has topped any story I have ever told.
You rock. I have been reading books that talk about how far away we have come from living by the elements, but I guess that really does not refer to real people like your family. This city girl (who thinks roughing it it is staying at a Holiday Inn) is totally impressed.