Monday, November 28, 2011

Very Venison...

Yesterday was a busy day.  On Thanksgiving morning I shot a nice buck.  I love venison.  I let him hang for 3 days and today I went to work.  I ended up with 10 roasts, plenty of jerky meat, and stew meat (which I will can in the pressure cooker later).  This year I tried something different.  I pre-made Swedish meatballs and breakfast sausage.  I used a Swedish Meatball Mix from Tempo, Western legends Breakfast Sausage Seasoning, and a breakfast sausage recipe from the Internet.

I used a wide mouth canning ring to form the sausage patties and an ice cream scoop to form the meatballs.  I can't say enough how much I appreciate the meat grinder my parents got me for Christmas a few years back.  Once the patties and meatballs freeze, I'll put them in bags for easy access. 

I had lots of visitors yesterday while I was in the kitchen.  The birds on the feeder, the turkeys underneath, and if you look hard to the left of the turkey you will see the deer eating the pumpkins out of the compost pile.

I will leave you with a recipe for the perfect deer roast.  Compliments of my husband. 

Kelly's Perfect Venison Roast
1 Venison Roast
Inject with a garlic herb butter marinade

Heat grill to 375 degrees
Sear each side for 5 minutes
Put to the side of the grill so it isn't on direct heat for 15 minutes, flip halfway through.
Let stand for a few minutes and slice into medallions.

They will melt in your mouth.  It is my favorite meal. 

I know some people don't approve of hunting and I'm sorry if I offend.  Still part of being self sufficient is being able to provide food for your family.  Since our location makes it hard to raise my meat, hunting will have to do. 

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Thanksgiving is for the birds...

I haven't been able to get out and take photos.  It is a long story.  Anyway, I dug around and found these photos from a Thanksgiving past.  If those birds only knew...

Happy Thanksgiving!
Farmgirl Friday Blog Hop

Sunday, November 20, 2011

I wish....

Maybe a garden blog isn't such a good idea when you have 9 months of winter.  It is below 0 with 8 inches of snow.  My weekend sucked.  I need to think warm happy thoughts....

Ok, I feel a little better.  Nothing like good memories to cheer a person up after a yucky weekend.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Many things come with the snow...

Dang it, snow.  Oh well, winter had to come sooner or later.  This year it was much later, so I can't complain.  Many things come with the snow...

One thing is I get to test the limits of my greenhouse.  If you look closely among the living is parsley, sage, mint, and way in the back is spinach, lettuce, and garlic.  They are hanging in there.  I can't say the lettuce is growing by leaps and bounds, but it is alive.
The next good thing about winter is I will finally sit down and finish my table runner project.  Then I get to start on a new quilt for the winter.  The material is bought and dying to be cut and sewed.  I love these rolls of fabric, because to be honest I don't enjoy picking out the fabric.  I also dislike cutting the fabric.  So you may ask why do I like quilting ?  I love the monotony of the sewing.  I used to hand quilt with a hoop and loved it, but it was too hard on my wrists.  My loving husband got me a fancy pants sewing machine.  It even has a dial to slow down my lead sewing foot.  Have I ever mentioned my husband is a police officer?:)

As you can see I have plenty to keep me busy.  I still have berries in the freezer to either jam or make wine with.  I just bottled up my Sassy Saskatoon.  I have some Tantalizing Tatanka (buffalo berry), crab apple (yet unnamed any suggestions?), and Red Letter Raspberry all in the racking stage.  I just started some grape from grapes one of my teachers gave me. 

In closing, we seem to be buttoned up and ready for winter.  Ella's only fear is that her giant moose bone will get covered in snow and not found until spring.  

Friday, November 11, 2011

Veteran's Day

Veteran's Thank You for your Service!
Though my little brother cannot see this, I thank him for his service and his sacrifice.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Gray Partridge... (aka Hungarian Partridge)

My Dad asked me once how I never run out of ideas for my blog.  My response was there just always seems to be something to write about.  Well, I was beginning to panic, as this week there hasn't been much of anything to tell about.  That changed today.  These little buggers went through the yard and sent us scrambling for the bird book.  We had no clue there was such a bird, much less in the Black Hills.  Here they are...
My Birds of North America Book  identifies them as Gray Partridges.  Originally a native of Eurasia, this rotund (a very accurate statement that I can see) gray-and-brown partridge was introduced into North America in the early 1900s and is now a widely established game bird. 
Several rotund little birds. There was probably about 15-20 of them pillaging the yard and road.

They look like little footballs.

It was hard to get them all in one place.

 It was cold today so I bet he wanted in that nice worm infested greenhouse, sorry little guy.
Just when I thought there would be nothing to say these little guys came out of the blue.  I love surprises.

Addendum:  They are also known as Hungarinan Partridge.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Tractors and guitars...

Tractors and guitars
And old metal trucks
Antlers on a beam
And an old Singer sewing machine
Rusty wire, held up by a nail
Sections and sickles
And an old milk pail
Baking tins, a flour box
A dozen jars (well, one is lost)
Bent tools, broken parts
An Edison type fuse
Fancy plates and silverware
Things not often used
As The light comes over
Like a breaking dawn
Things that pass on a frontier farm
Second hand clothes
An old barn cat
In an old iron pile
Lays a broke pump jack
Cupboards so worn
Their fat at the hinge
A gate so tight
You'll never get in
Water thats hard (they own nothing soft)
They live alone
Far away
Call before you leave
You might get lost
Cupboards so worn
As the light comes over
Like a breaking dawn
Things that pass on a frontier farm
A poem by Jim Gregg
My little brother