ROAD TRIP!!! 2014

It started with a phone call.  Right in the middle of saying Good-bye to my beloved Uncle LeRoy, son Dan calls asking that we come up to western NY, to help with the grandbabies while he undergoes surgery.  Bad timing to say the least, but right away, we started planning on hitching up the camper and heading north. 
   After a very stressful week culminating with the tear-filled funeral of our "Uncle Bird", we got home hurriedly, threw some gear in the camper, packed the fridge and cabinets, and set sail for New York.  NO travel plans, no schedule, no itinerary, we just went.  We left home at 5 p.m., and 11:30 p.m. found us a little east of Meridian Mississippi.  We rolled into a KOA campground, plugged in and went to sleep. 
     It was a struggle, but we were back on the road by 9 a.m. and then sailing along, we began to realize we had been full blast for a week now with precious little sleep and were fast 'hitting the wall'. Driving along that morning we decided that  we were not gonna drive late into the night again, but that we were gonna stop early and get a full night sleep.
    About 2:30 that afternoon we were driving through Tennessee when we heard a "pop" out side and Peggy said, "What was that?!" We both looked out our windows and saw that the camper tires looked okay from where we sat, so we kept going.  A mile or so down the road we stopped for gas, and while filling up, a friendly, bearded country-boy pointed out that we were getting a flat on one of the rear trailer tires.  We both looked closely and found what appeared to be a nail in the tire, so this nice local guy, told me that the place to get the tire repaired was 10 miles up the road. I thanked him and stuck a can of fix-a-flat in the tire, aired it up and we headed up the road to the next exit.
  The tire held and we pulled into a truck stop, hoping for a GOOD, permanent quick fix.  We do have a good spare tire but the jack was in the SUV, buried under a mountain of camping gear, so I figured no use changing it if I can get someone to plug it right on the trailer.  
   We found a truck stop with a repair shop for the place, so we headed there. The mechanic there at that truck stop said he couldn't do a car sized tire, so directed me to go back under the interstate, past the Shell gas station to Libby's.  He said, "She has a big sign. They'll take care of you; it's a big blue building; you can't miss it." 
   Well, we easily found Libby's big sign and a big blue building with a HUGE sign stating something akin to (but not) "NAKED DANCING GIRLS" and another sign with a painting of a woman with her bare backside showing. (WHAT?) 
   Back at that truck stop, where the guy recommended "Libby", there amongst the trucks and truckers, we had seen a very beautiful woman in shorts and long hair approach and flag down what appeared to be a trucker, who had gotten out of his truck, who was minding his own business, just sauntering along toward the truck stop restaurant. Peggy said,"Wow! She's beautiful!" Apparently the trucker did too, 'cuz he stopped dead in his tracks as she shoved her hands down into the back pockets of her tight blue jean cut-off shorts, stuck her extremely large chest out at him and gave him the biggest smile. Peggy said again that the woman was sure beautiful, but I just muttered, "No need to be impressed, Peg, she's a Truck Stop 'something-or-other'" and had to explain a few things to her about truck stops that she didn't know. 
   So, it was with that frame of mind, upon finding, "Libby's" and the huge "naked dancing girls" sign, on the big blue building, we were like, "We don't want a naked dancing girl, no matter how experienced she may be, blowing up our tire." Further back up the long driveway, we saw on the hill a big couple of  blue buildings, so up there we went averting our eyes as we passed our "original" Libby's, the gal with the bare butt in the painting still smiling over her shoulder at us.   
  The office lady in Libby's truck and trailor repair shop was very nice and sweet. We had a pleasant conversation. Now the young grissled, "old crab" changed the tire in less than 10 minutes. At first he growled, "Whadda ya want?" and it never got better, although, by now, you must know me; I tried joking with him and he only got more scowling and grumping around so I left him alone in his misery, doing his job. When he finished, I was so thankful I handed the man $2 and told him to have a beer on the way home on me.  He grabbed it, turned his back and stormed away, so I called after him...the poor guy needed a good word, "Thank you, and God Bless you, Dude." Nothing. We feel kinda sorry for folks like that. I hope he's not like that all the time and that he was just having a bad day. You just never know.  So with that and a ten dollar repair bill, we were back on the road.   The other local folks were very friendly and 2 old boys after 'ironing it out between themselves' decideded we should continue north a few miles and check out Henry Horton State Park.  
   We rolled into the park around 5 p.m. and the charming camp host got us checked in and parked in no time.  The man and his wife, who worked the office were so nice and so was the park, and we were so exhausted that we decided right then and there to stay 2 nights, in order to recuperate.  We were in bed asleep for before 8 p.m. and didn't get up till 7 this morning; it was then that we remembered the camera.  This is the trip so far.

We didn't start the map till we got up on the interstate, not wanting to show the trail to or from our front door.  We left out the trip through the beautiful swamps of South Louisiana .  This morning found me drinking coffee before 7 a.m., finally fully rested and able to enjoy the trip.

It wasn't long before I got the ole black iron pot going, and breakfast cooking.

Aint nuffin like a ole peculator full of coffee to wash down a bacon and egg breakfast.

Slap that on a slice of toast.

Camping breakfast at its best.

With the dishes done nothing, left but to rest, 'decompress' and get ready for the next leg of this 1,500 mile road trip.  In the mean time the park is beautiful and our new camping buddy Bo is having as much fun as we are.

Worse than a kid, but having a ball anyways.  This road trip is truly starting to be fun.  

9/12

While typing yesterday's post.

Deer peacefully walked by.

When I looked down after the deer walked by I saw an inch worm had inched his way along my key board.

While Peggy put together a coleslaw in the camper, Bo and I enjoyed the great outdoors.

Before we left home Peggy had made and canned a pot of smoked chicken, sausage and okra gumbo.  I put some heating and a pot of rice on.

To turn a wonderful evening into a perfect one our camp ground hosts, Kerry and Donald stopped by for a nice visit and a bowl of gumbo truly wonderful folks.

I typed this update in a Walmart parking lot as Peggy picked up a few supplies.  So it's back on the road with more later.  We drove to Wilmington Ohio, and stopped at Caesar's creak camp ground at 7 pm.  The weekend crowd was out in full force, but they didn't bother us any all 3 of us went right to sleep and wish we would have had the time to investigate the park.  The campground was plain and really just a grassy field with hook ups.  That is always a very good sign that the happy campers weren't there for the campground but the fishing.  I itched to join them but now fully rested we needed to get to our base camp..

9-13

We left Caeser's park at 9:30 having forgotten about the time change, and came rolling into Webster, NY camp ground at 8:30pm.  There a nice couple out on a moon light stroll helped us back up between the trees to our dark secluded spot.  With that done this ends the road trip to NY.  Here it it.

 Just like the beginning, I cut the end off a little short for some paranoid reason or such.  1533 miles from my house to here this ends the trip and begins the base camp adventure.  It was a great trip, sure some "bumps along the way"  but that's road tripping.

       

Our "Long Horn" Okra

This year's crop of long horn okra, got off to a late start, but are now off to the races.  We planted them late, after harvesting our Spring crop of snap beans.  Okra do well in the Summer heat, and give our little square foot garden something to do till it's time to plant our winter garden.  The okra has, in the past, continued making pods all the way to Christmas and beyond, as long as we get no frost.  

They are making around 5 to 10 okra a day, which gets cut up (sliced like thick pennies) and put in the freezer until we have enough to make something with it.

Growing in stages, some plants are already over my head, while others are still only 1 ft. or so tall.  Staggered like that insures a longer growing season.  

We leave 2 pods on the healthiest plant for our seeds for the next year and too, later, if anyone wants some seeds we will let more dry.  Over ten years ago I lost my beloved batch of seeds, so we put out some feelers out online here and an elderly Cajun man was nice enough to send us a small package of seeds in the mail.  I never met the man but thank him and say a lil prayer for him every time I walk out and see the beautiful okra flowers smiling at us.

The good news:  We currently have a gallon bag full in the freezer and I can hardly wait for the first batch of smothered okra. Keep smiling you long "horned" beauty; you are music to our eyes!  

 

Strawberry Figs

Well, while we were in a fig preserving mood we decided to try another of my mother's fig tricks and make some strawberry figs.  We dug another bag of frozen figs out of the freezer.

We poured them into a dishpan and rinsed them good.

After rinsing, we snipped the stems off them.

Placed them in a colander to drain then weighed them.

To seven pounds of figs we added 6 cups of sugar, and a splash of lemon juice.

While the figs were slowly thawing and warming, we put our jelly jars in a 212 degree oven. We also put the canning lids, rings, a soup ladle, a food funnel, and a pair of tongs into a pot of water that we brought to a boil. All THREE things need to be at the same (boiling) 212 degrees temperature for us to be able to can:

1. the jars in the oven, 2. the lids and utensils, 3. the figs. (or whatever we are fixin' to can)

After an hour or so of slowly warming the frost from them, the figs made their syrup and began cooking.

Once the figs were cooked, we took them out of the pot with a large wire mesh ladle, reserving the syrup.

Then we mashed them with a tater masher.

Since we had 9 cups of smashed figs, when we added them back to their syrup we added three 3 oz boxes of (dry, not dissolved) Wild Strawberry Jello.

  Stirring in the Jello, we let it come to a boil and cook for 7 minutes or so, then went to canning them.  Peggy has canned so many jars of things, she has become a well-oiled canning "machine". I do the lifting, stirring and mashing, but when it comes to canning I just stand back and watch my sweet wife do her thang.

Man, this stuff is good.  No joking, you would swear it's real strawberries right down to the small seeds. 

 A couple helpful tips: 

 1.  Use the Wild Strawberry Jello if you can find it because the strawberry flavor is stronger and more intense.  2: the recipe calls for One 3 oz. box of Jello for every 3 to 4 cups of figs.  After cooking and smashing our figs, they measured out at 9 cups, so we used 3 boxes which probably would have been good for 11 or so cups of figs, before adding any more Jello.  This stuff is well worth a try and we highly recommend it to those of you who have more figs than fig eaters.  It's a wonderful way to turn 1 fruit into 2 different jellies. Peggy, not knowing any better, this being the first time she's ever had this, she thinks it tastes just like strawberry jam, Bless her heart.

Believe it or not, though, it actually tastes as good as it looks.

Old-Fashioned Fig Preserve

Finally,  after struggling through hurricanes and hard freezes, our Celeste Fig tree began bearing enough figs for us to can them.  Last year it only yielded a handful a day, but those few handfuls of figs rarely made it into the house, because between us and the birds eating them as they ripened, they never stood a chance of us making any kinds of plans for storage of any kind.  This year, thanks to no major storms, and the tree finally growing big enough to survive a freeze, it began to bear enough fruit for us to begin saving some to can, using one of my family's (my Mama and grandmother's) traditional recipes.  In the last month or so, Peggy and I picked on average a quart of figs each day; sometimes more some days none at all. Day by day we stashed them in 2 gallon zip lock freezer bags till we had approximately 5 gallons. I had seen other folks use this technique and it worked great.  Pick the figs from the tree, put them in a big bag and store them in the freezer till you have enough to can. 
    When you take the bags out of the freezer, they will have frozen as individuals, and not in a solid clump. Since they are separate, the process of rinsing and snipping the stems off is an easy (and fun) task. 
  Stewing the figs using the original family recipe is very simple.  Weigh your figs and for every pound of figs add 1 cup of sugar.  Since our figs were frozen, I added a little water to start them steaming sooner, but it really wasn't needed.  I also added a splash of lemon juice 'cause I saw lots of folks on the internet do it and it aint like we don't have several gallons of our Meyer lemon juice still in the freezer.  At any rate, we started with this:

 And ended up with this below, in a few fun-filled hours. Of course we had to "taste test"...Oh Mmmm! It took me back to the days of my youth, sitting at the table with my elders who cooked everything with love.

Below is the video of how we did it.  This time honored Cajun treat deserves to be passed on for further generations to enjoy.  Please give it a try and let us know what you think.

First Sunday in August BBQ 2014

In honor of it being August, or maybe in honor of it being Sunday, or more likely in honor of the fact that we scored some pork riblets on sale for $1 a pound or maybe even just for the heck of it we decided to fire up the ole rusty charcoal chimney.

We had been soaking some riblets in Cajun seasoning, hot sauce, and Worcestershire sauce for 2 days, so we threw them on the pit.

My new BBQ buddy Bo, was already licking his chops in anticipation.  

While Sarge, our old scarred veteran of a tomcat knew full well he could whoop that bratty lil dog out of anything hi might snag.

The ribs smoked away, and  with the breeze from our outdoor fan blowing and good music blaring from the speakers, we had a wonderful afternoon on the patio.  Me drinking beer and Peggy enjoying a glass of wine and the yard cats competing for snacks, and with the dogs for company, a couple hours slid by.

The wonderful smokey smell filled the yard.

The bad thing about wonderful back yard BBQ'sis they invariably end too soon.

With a slab of ribs and our volunteer butternut squash steamed and smashed, the last of the garden cucumbers and the first of our sweet bread and butter pickles, this, my friends, is a "Cajun happy meal".   Was it good?? Here's your answer:

When You Marry an Artist

When married to a wonderful creative artist, ya never know what ya gonna get.  For example, years ago I mentioned, "How 'bout us makin' our own Christmas cards" to her and now we have years of our fun family settings set to Christmas cards. If you aint seen them just look down through the archives of this, our blog, dated around Christmas-time and you will see what I mean. With this in mind it shoulda not surprised me when after casually mentioning that the fridge was getting rusty and we would soon hafta paint it, that this amazing creation began to appear. (To get the whole shot, I had to open the fridge door)

Now I am looking around for what else to mention that needs painting.:-)

Volunteer Squash

In our compost pile out back, from time to time, we find what Peggy and I call "volunteers".  As we toss out our usual "nanner" peels, egg shells, coffee grounds, cucumber peelings, and mounds of citrus rinds, etc., occasionally, raw seeds wind up being planted by accident in the rich, worm-filled pile of loam that the compost has turned into, and which we then use for our different gardening projects.  This year in the Spring, I replenished the soil in our grape arbor with several buckets of the rich compost soil, and a few weeks later while I  was weeding, I noticed something growing there amongst the grapes vines, that did not look like grape vines, but still, it looked like it might be a "keeper".  I consulted Peg and we agreed to let this grow awhile and see what it was gonna do.  Well, I kinda forgot about it and it grew up mostly hidden from view in the thick of the lush grape leaves and vines, started climbing up, over and down the front of our arbor, and began looking rather 'squashy'.  Sadly, before the small green striped squashes could get big as your thumb, the birds would "snick" them off, leaving nothing but bare vine.  Finally, one escaped the birdie 'wrath', and matured into a big beautiful Butternut squash.

 I watched it grow and ripen till I couldn't stand it any longer and picked it this morning.

Truly a Gift from the Lord, this squash is destined for a grateful supper, soon.  In the meantime, another "volunteer" is vining away over in the compost pile.  I have been moving it out of my way, as I mow the lawn, and am trying to train it to run toward the fence instead of 'trah-lah-lah-ing" merrily through the yard as it has been doing.  Since there are no flowers as of yet, we are wondering what this young upstart volunteer will bring to our table.  Mercifully, we are hoping it won't be more cucumbers 'cause we have a cabinet full of Peggy's bread-and-butter pickles, not to mention our bellies are full of cucumbers, as are those of our friends and neighbors as well. The other day I carried a grocery sack packed "chocka-blok", bursting outa the seams with cucumbers to one of the neighbors, since their cars were both in the driveway. We thought it kinda strange that they didn't answer the door this time. It might be our imagination, but we think it might be because they are tired of us foisting sackfuls of cukes onto them and evah body else on the street.  We are, and apparently everybody else is downright "cuked out" and so now we can't find anymore volunteers who will take any more of them off our hands. And now we'll just have to wait to see what this next patch is gonna spring on us this Summer.