About This Blog

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I have loved things Country and Western all of my life. I have loved the ranches and farms. the fields, the barns, livestock, and the food. I was born and raised in Kentucky where I learned to love and appreciate the beauty, hard work, and value of country living, Most of my family lived on farms and/or were livestock producers. I have raised various livestock and poultry over the years. I have sold livestock feed and minerals in two states. My big hats and boots are only an outward manifestation of the country life I hold dear to my heart. With the help of rhyme or short story, in recipes or photos, I make an effort in this blog to put into words my day to day observations of all things rural; the things that I see and hear, from under my hat. All poems and short stories, unless noted otherwise, are authored by me. I hope you enjoy following along.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Saturday Morn


The sun is as bright and welcome as Edison’s first household light bulb. The sky is a perfect blue, brushed here and there with wispy fair weather clouds. The air is crisp with with a freshening breeze. Silvery patches of frost sparkle here and there as the sun rises over the Chicken Ranch.

The steam rising from my coffee mug dances upward and finally dissipates into the morning chill . The Chickens are already busy scratching the ground in anticipation of their coming breakfast of ground corn and garden refuse. Hershey, the Chicken Ranches’ chocolate lab security system, makes a couple of half hearted woofs to let me know that one little red Plymouth Rock  hen has left the confines of the pen, and is digging for food in the garden patch. I should clip her wings, but  I’ll let her roam awhile first.

Inside, breakfast is being prepared by the capable hands of the best cook in America. Patty has eggs and biscuits working on the stove, as she sips her hot tea from her favorite cup.



Fresh eggs, with their dark golden centers, are compliments of our red hens. I can’t eat eggs at a restaurant or buy them from the store. A commercial egg is six months old before it reaches super market shelves. An honest to goodness, true farm-fresh egg makes the commercial variety look and taste anemic in comparison. Our eggs are the real deal.

The biscuits will be hot and buttery and topped off with honey from a friends  bee hive, which is located a few miles east of here.

I’ll head for the bird feeder soon and give the song birds their morning meal. Georgie the cat is incessant in her plea for a filled dish, and left a mouse on the step for trade. I tell her to eat more mice and help me to reduce the feed bill around here. She looks at me in that “you poor ignorant human” kind of way that cats look at you.

All in all it’s shaping up to be a wonderful Saturday morning at the Chicken Ranch. Another day of life and health granted to me and mine by a merciful and kind Providence.

I may start another painting today. Write another chapter for my book. Take a walk along the lake and woods near here. Any or all the above.

Yes, its another day of living here at the ranch, on this beautiful autumn Saturday morn. And, today life is good.