Pigs: Diamond, The Pot-Bellied Pig

(singing)


Our Pig Partner has a farm, E-I-E-I-O!
And on his farm he has a Pet Pig, E-I-E-I-O!

Meet Diamond. She's not for eating... she's a pet! Diamond's owner was getting older and wasn't able to take care of her anymore. Diamond was so fat (even for a pig!), and she had a diaper rash of sorts from laying in her pee-soaked blanket. The skin on her back was so dry that it flaked off in big pieces and often bled. Her nails needed trimming so badly (they were 4 or 5 inches long!) that she couldn't walk on her toes the way pigs usually do. She's starting to walk better, and with room to move, she is getting strong and healthy. She's super friendly, too. Mr. Farmer wants to bring her to our house, but she's better off with all that open space at the farm.

Pigs: Back in Business

(singing)


Our Pig Partner has a farm, E-I-E-I-O!
And on his farm he has a PILE OF PIGS, E-I-E-I-O!

That's right, folks, we're back in business! Last month we purchased 17 piglets. Two of them will be going as payment for transportation of the animals, and we are currently deciding which will breed and which will be butchered or sold. The best news of all is that Our Pig Partner is leasing enough land that the local authorities can't hassle him/us.

Mr. Farmer walks the fence line every day to make sure nothing is disrupting the flow of electricity. The pigs are learning the boundaries quickly, and they are starting to put on weight just like they should. It is a promising start.

Bunny!

(singing)


Our Pig Partner has a farm, E-I-E-I-O!
And on his farm he has a Bunny, E-I-E-I-O!

Ok, so he has TWO bunnies... for now. After all, rabbits will do what rabbits do...

Quack!

(singing)

Our Pig Partner has a farm, E-I-E-I-O!
And on his farm he has a DUCK, E-I-E-I-O!

A big, fat, pigeon-toed duck who waddles around and lays huge, delicious eggs! Yummy!   She doesn't really have a nest, so she just lays her egg wherever she sees fit that particular day. It's like Easter all the time!  

Off Topic: Dinner Drama

Does anyone else feel like preparing dinner is like being on one of those competitive cooking shows? I swear that some nights (like tonight) I hear Ted Allen’s always-charming voice inside my head...

 

 

 

Ted: Contestants, open your baskets! Tonight you must prepare dinner with… (dramatic pause)…

 

1. Bone-In, Skin-On Chicken that you bought because it was cheap and now is threatening to spoil if you don’t cook it soon
2. Pasta, because you served rice last night and one of your kids would rather NOT eat potatoes
3. A completely filthy kitchen, with at least two loads of dirty dishes sitting around

 

You Have 30 Minutes. Please begin!

 

 

 

Judge 1: Oh, the producers have a bit of a sadistic streak tonight, eh? I mean, after the long day she had today, they give her bony chicken AND dirty dishes all over the prep table? Ouch!

 

Judge 2: Chicken leg quarters are inexpensive and low quality. But more importantly, they take at least an hour to roast in the over, and she only has HALF that time!

 

Judge 3: I agree, and Farmer is at a real disadvantage here. She will HAVE to bone out and skin that chicken if she’s going to finish in time, and she has only the smallest of experience butchering birds. Her real talent is disassembling pork. Couldn’t we cut her a break and give her more time?

 

Ted: No chance. Those kids have school in the morning, and they need to get up early. Besides, there is no doubt some homework that has yet to be completed, so she’s gotta get them fed so she can discover it. Wow! Look at her washing the dishes while the pasta-water boils! Excellent time management!!

 

 

 

25.5 Minutes Later:

 

 

 

Ted: The clock is running down. The table is nearly set, and the hubby is starting to circle. Water glasses are filled… She’s draining the pasta… Wait! The Hubby just called the kids to the table! They’ve come running and the dish isn’t assembled yet! Look at those faces staring into the kitchen as she stirs the sauce into the noodles…

 

Judge 2: Get it served… GET IT SERVED!!

 

Ted: AAAAANNNNDDD…. Time’s Up. Please step away.

 

 

 

Me: Whew. Hope you like it.

 

Family: MMmmm…

 

 

And Then the Cycle Repeats....

 

Congratulations! It’s a BULL!!!

Our Pig Partner brought home a very young dairy bull last night. Apparently they are reasonably priced, as dairies only need a small number of bulls to keep up production. I don’t have a photo yet, but this little guy is ADORABLE! Ok, I know that the little fella has a destiny that is less than desirable to most, but there’s something here that cannot be denied…



BABY ANIMALS ARE SO CUTE!!


OK, I’m done gushing. But honestly, I am looking forward to a new adventure. With any luck, I will be allowed to do some of the butchering. I love adding to my skills, and I’m a pretty good butcher! Financially we cannot afford our own calf right now, but maybe if my luck changes…



(Did I mention that I scratched around a young bull’s nubby horns today, and that he is super cute?)


Update 5/31/13: I finally got a photo! Oh, and it's a STEER now. (wink wink)

I told you he was cute! He's getting BIG, too!

Chickens: Out with the Old

After cracking my eggs into a hot pan beside some leftover steak, I did something I haven’t done in some time: I tossed the shells in the trash instead of putting them aside to feed back to the chickens. We raised this latest batch of leghorns from day-old chicks to full-grown, egg laying machines for the past 3 years. There were times when they didn’t lay eggs at all, and there were times when we had so many eggs that we gave them away or sold them for next to nothing.

Sometimes they had to take turns laying.

The girls have been getting tired over the last few months, however. We continued to feed them well, but production was way down. Mr. Farmer kept looking at the coop and thinking about ways to improve the setup for the next run. So, when we found an ad on Craigslist looking for older chickens, we decided to retire them to a farm where they will run free.

We aren’t very sentimental about chickens. Still, these girls have served us extremely well over the years, and leghorns aren’t very meaty anyway, so retirement just seemed like a better fit than slaughter. So stay tuned (do people these days even know what that means anymore?) for updates on the new brood, the new brooder, and the new chicken coop… all scheduled for Spring 2013!

Maple Syrup: Upsizing the Cooker

Two years ago we harvested our first ever maple sap. I posted about tapping, collecting, and cooking down the sap into sweet syrup. This year we purchased 8 more taps (not that we used them all) and enlisted our previous Pig Partner to tap trees on his land. His trees are twice the size of ours, and the sap was flowing strong, so THIS upgrade became necessary:

Woah. That's One BIG Pot!

In 2011, our large roaster oven was sufficient to process the sap from our few, relatively young trees. It had some issues, however. Some of the sugar caramelized and even burnt on the sides of the cooker. When we added more sap, it washed that char off the sides, resulting in a very dark finished product:

Delicious, but a Bit Darker than Ideal

This new system, which consists of a very large aluminum stainless steel stock pot on a propane burner from a turkey fryer, isn’t without its issues, of course. As you can imagine, it takes a very long time to heat up a pot of that size, even with the large propane burner. A heavy metal frame had to be fabricated to hold the immense weight of the pot and liquid. Also, since there is no room for it in the house, we must complete the operation in Mr. Farmer’s Man-Cave, which is not the cleanest place in the world. Outside contamination is a constant concern, so all other shop projects had to be suspended for the sugaring. The setup makes temperature tricky to maintain as well (see the sheet metal reflector on the wall behind the pot?). The direct heat from the flame also requires constant attention to prevent burning. This means that Mr. Farmer has gotten very little sleep the past 2 weeks while he stirs the pot every half hour or so. It makes for a tense household, to say the least.

Of course we are very excited about the finished product that we should have soon. The last of the 2011 syrup went with a visiting friend home to England, and we can barely wait to have more!

Hillbilly Ingenuity: Uses for Maple Sap and Syrup

Those of you who are unfamiliar with your Little House books by Laura Ingalls Wilder (and shame on you if you are unfamiliar, by the way), might be surprised to hear what a special treat white sugar was just a handful of generations ago. In pioneer times, when "town" might be a day or more drive from the homestead and when supplies might only come in by train every few months, white sugar was a commodity almost akin to gold or steel. It was rationed in leaner times and generally only used for special occasions and when visitors arrived. The amount that we dump into our hot beverages in the morning, sprinkle on our cereal, or use to make candy (gasp, I even do this when there is no particular holiday in sight!) would be considered almost vulgar in those times. Less-processed raw or brown sugar were more common for everyday use, as was molasses. But if your Little House was in The Big Woods, your primary source of sweetness was maple sap and syrup.

  

 

It can take up to 50 gallons of clear, watery sap to make a single gallon of syrup, and it takes time to do that evaporating without burning it. When there is a huge vat cooking away within full view in your dining room, it is difficult to wait. So, we have found that there are many good uses for maple syrup, sap, and partially-evaporated sap:

  

• Sweeten hot cereal such as oatmeal, farina, or corn mush by adding a splash of syrup or 
• Replace the water in the recipes for hot cereal with fresh or partially evaporated sap 
• Top desserts like ice cream or pie with a drizzle  
• Add it to tea or coffee 
• Heat a mug of sap for a warm, sweet drink 
• Replace the sugar or liquid sugar in a cocktail with sap or syrup 
• Anything else you can think of!

  

If you have the patience, sap can be cooked all the way down to dry sugar. So far, we have not had that kind of patience, but imagine what this list would look like if we did!!

 

Maple Sap Cooking Down to Syrup
(It's so hard to wait!)

Pigs: Post-Partum Pig Depression

I know the blog has been quiet, but between the normally busy month of May (those of you with one or two kids in school know what I'm talking about) and the loss of the pigs, there has been very little time or subject matter to report. Chickens aren't all that exciting this time of year (with all the baby plants, we don't dare let them out of the run), and I am sadly behind on the gardening. But most of all, Mr. Farmer is filling the void with research, reading, and science- inside projects that I couldn't blog about even if I was willing to go that far off topic, since I don't completely understand them. It is almost as strange to be without the pigs as it is to be without a dog.

It's not just the chores that makes it so different. Admittedly, not needing to go to another site to feed and water the pigs leaves a hole in the daily routine. Even when they were here, the pigs needed attention a few times a day. Watching them frolic and occasionally fight was a great way to pass the time, and who wouldn't love watching new piglets being born?

Not to worry, however. We are holding on as best we can, and before you know it, we will be on to the next project.

Hillbilly Ingenuity: Maple Tapping Time!

That's right; it's that time again....

Sap-Catching Bucket

When the weather is above freezing during the day and below freezing at night, the maple sap flows. In my neck of the woods, that is approximately February 15 to March 15.  So, here we go again!


(Note: Last year we did not have enough cold weather, so the sap was bitter, and we made no syrup at all. This year looks very promising so far!)

Off Topic: The Mouse

By popular demand (and with apologies to Edgar Allen Poe):

"The Mouse"
by Mrs. Farmer

Lazy morning, warm and cozy

Back to bed but not quite dozing
Not a worry, work would not begin for several hours more
Wood fire blazing, blanket calling
Kids at school, ambition stalling
Back to sleep I'll soon be falling
Nothing on TV and damn the chores.



Heard a noise, but not above me
Through the pillow, thinking, "Lovely,
What on Earth is scurrying down below me on the bedroom floor?"
Through the window, sunlight streaming
Wondering if I might be dreaming
Across my head it ran- I'm screaming!
Sat straight up, but still He snores.



Convinced that it was just not real
'Twas not a mouse, a phantom feel
So I rested back upon my pillow undisturbed once more
Heard the noise again and sat up
Saw the mouse this time, and spat up
Wouldn't believe how fast I got up
Grabbed my gear and made for the door.

***

Well, that's the story of the mouse running across my head as I slept a couple weeks ago. I hope eveyone had a nice Thanksgiving!!

Cooking: Apple FrankenPie

Many years ago, when I was starting to get to the age where it was difficult to guess what kind of gifts I might like, my mother asked we what I would like for my birthday. I pointed out, "Pampered Chef makes a beautiful stoneware pie plate. It even comes in my color, Cobalt Blue!" It was indeed beautiful- and expensive. It was certainly something that I wouldn't be able to afford to buy myself at the time. So, naturally, my mother replied, "Yes, but what would you like for your birthday?"


Of course I did receive the coveted pie plate for my birthday (my mother loves me that much!), and I love it. Mr. Farmer has made many chicken pies in it, to the delight of all, and I have even made use of it a few times myself. For the first few years it sat in a place of honor- as much decoration as useful kitchen item. Yesterday I made an apple pie in it.

No, I will not be posting the recipe. I used several different recipes from the Joy of Cooking (1979 Edition) to make this particular FrankenPie. I used one pie crust recipe for the bottom (it came up too dry and a little bit short of the top - thank goodness no one will see that ugliness once it is baked). I used the measurements for sugar, starch, and seasoning for the filling, but more apples than prescribed since it was such a deep dish. Determined not to come up short on the top crust, I used a double recipe of a different variety for the top crust. It was still unbelievably dry, and I had to almost double the recommended water to be able to roll it out. I have quite a bit left over.

In the end, however, the pie came out pretty and delicious, and I guess that is all that matters, right?

Happy Fall, Everyone!

Pigs: Skin and Bones

I'm going to have a hard time getting out of bed tomorrow.

We roasted a half-pig in the smokehouse for the Fourth of July, and the other half has been hanging ever since. Things have been busy this past week, and the second half had not been processed. Mr. Farmer just didn't have time, so the job fell to me.  

Men generally handle the skinning around here. They skin deer and pigs and sometimes various fowl, if they don't feel like dealing with feathers. We have a friend who can dress and skin a deer in under a half an hour. He can do it in twenty minutes if it is hung at the right height and his knives are sharp. I guess this is a skill that comes from practice, however. Today I learned that skinning is HARD WORK.

I've never skinned anything before, and skinning, like butchering, can't really be learned from books. Sure, the background helps, but you never really get it until someone puts a knife in your hand and says, "Go to it!" So I did. I put the half-pig on the counter and started trying to peel away the skin. The edges had sealed to the fat as they dried, and it was hard to get the angle right even to get it started. I had to turn it several times and contort my body in ways I didn't know I could just to get the knife in where I needed it. In short, it was a nightmare.

Nearly an hour later, the skin was off and I could get to butchering. I boned the entire thing, including a very tricky shoulder blade. Mr. Farmer said I did nice work, but it sure felt like a lot of exertion for only a few pounds of meat! My neck aches, my back is burning, and I feel like I could go to bed now!

Well, now it is time for a prophylactic dose of Aleve. Mr. Farmer is going to reward me by cooking the remaining fresh ham on the grill tomorrow. I can't wait!

Cooking: Everyday Deviled Eggs

Where there are hens, there are eggs. Where there are eggs, there are people who are desperate to find things to do with the excess eggs when they aren't selling well and the family is getting tired of them. What's a gal to do?

Older eggs make better hard-boiled eggs, so when we get overloaded I either sell them cheap or boil them. The children, however, aren't all that excited about hard-cooked eggs as a snack. They can sit in the fridge for days if left unprepared. I have found, however, that it is simple to make them irresistible:

1. Cut them in half lengthwise
2. Take out the yolks
3. Mix the yolks with a few household goodies
4. Put the yolks back
5. Sit back and watch the kids devour them!

Deviled eggs are not just for parties! Watch how easy it is to turn them into an everyday snack.

Seriously, this is not hard. Cut 6 hard-boiled eggs in half lengthwise as carefully as you can. Gently remove the yolks and place them in a sandwich bag. Add 2 tablespoons of mayo (click here to learn how to make your own) and a teaspoon of mustard (I like spicy brown). Smoosh up the yolks in the bag. Snip the corner of the bag with scissors, and squeeze the filling back into the divot in the eggs. Sprinkle with paprika.

That's it! So easy! And Yummy!

Pigs: Much Ado About Buster

Hi, Ron!!

A friend and fellow farmer had a dilemma. Buster was an old pig- 7 years old if I have my facts straight- and it was time for him to go. The butcher, however, would have no part of him. A pig that old is only good for sausage, and our friend was not in the habit of processing hogs himself, so he offered him to us in lieu of burying him in the back field. We accepted.

Sadly, once the skin is off a pig, the clock is ticking. Yes, the meat is served well by resting a few days, but after that it is a race against spoilage, especially with an animal this big.

All was going well until Mr. Farmer had a car accident. He was not injured, but the car was totaled. Since we only had the one vehicle everything was put on hold, including the making of sausage, until the transportation issue could be handled. So, while Mr. Farmer scouted an alternate vehicle, I spent my day off alternating between calls to the insurance company and packing the already boned meat into freezer bags for longer term storage.

 

Over and over I rinsed the sink, rinsed the meat, labeled the bags, filled them, stacked them in the freezer, and re-sterilized the countertop. I managed to get half of the meat safely stowed before I ran out of freezer space. (On a side note, if the neighbors thought the sound of piglets protesting being put into the back of a truck was disturbing, imagine if they could have seen what I was up to in my kitchen that day!!)

Once again my enemy, Waste, has been thwarted. YAY ME!

 

Cooking: Concord Grape Syrup

The kids and I picked a lot of concord grapes this summer. Somehow they got loose in the woods and were growing up through some trees. Most summers you can smell sweet grapes, then wine, then vinegar on the breeze in late August. Most summers we smell them before we remember that they are even there, and by the time you smell them, it is too late.

Concord grapes are fairly acidic and very seedy, and therefore not great for snacking. In the past we have made wine out of them, but Mr. Farmer was not in the mood. Many years ago I made jam and jelly, but there was a recent coupon/sale combo that resulted in this:

There are 16 of These

So, having what appears to be YEARS worth of concord grape jam and jelly in the house, for thirty cents per two pound jar, which is less than what the glass alone would cost me if I made my own, it just didn't make sense to make jam. But I remembered my attempt at jelly when Young Master Farmer was just about two years old. I did something wrong, and the jelly didn't gel. The result, however, was a delicious syrup that we enjoyed on pancakes and waffles and French toast. Syrup made a lot of sense.

Concord grapes are very seedy. Those seeds are stuck really well to the flesh of the grape, and removing them is a chore. The seeds also have a fairly strong flavor, so you have to choose your battles when removing them. Cooking them will impart some of the seed flavor into your juice, but removing them raw is a lot of hard work. I chose to take the easy road this time and cooked the grapes whole (seeds, skins and all).

Of course if you want to cook a bunch of THESE...

You must first pick through a lot of THESE.

After picking through all the stems and leaves, I washed the grapes thoroughly and simmered them for a couple hours. As they cooked, I mashed them in the pot and stirred them so that the seeds broke loose. When they were done, I was finally appreciative of this weird seive that Mr. Farmer has always insisted was important:

This worked SO well!

I had to do almost NOTHING to get down to just seeds!

Look at all that beautiful juice!

I returned the juice to the pot and simmered some more, adding alternate cups of white sugar and corn syrup. I lost track of how many, and I think I burned my lips from all that acid, but it came out to be quite delicious. I poured it, still hot, into jelly jars and canning jars, wiped them up, and stuck them in the fridge. As expected, we ate it all so fast that there was no point in canning it properly.

Gardening: Mum Mum's Day!

It is a generally accepted rule of thumb that it is not a good idea to buy women gifts that represent work. Vacuum cleaners, stoves and the like are generally frowned upon. To a woman who enjoys gardening, however, a live, plantable flower is far superior to the gift of the kind that dies slowly in a vase. My children did well in purchasing a beautiful flowering mum (or, since I am traditionally called "Mum Mum," a beautiful flowering mumumumumum) as my Mother's Day gift.


After enjoying my breakfast in bed(with company), I went straight to work on it. Sunshine is scarce here in the woods, so the only available sunny bed outside the herb and vegetable gardens is at the base of the so-called "mother-in-law rock" at the end of my driveway. (Mother-in-Law Rocks are so called because of the propensity of visiting relatives to knick the marker boulders with their bumpers when they cut the corner too close when departing.) The rock, however, had not been painted in years, and was faded, dirty, and covered with mold. Likewise, the small bed was full of small stones, weeds, and roots from a nearby tree. There was a lot to be done.

I started by repainting the rock. I scrubbed the mold off with a brush and bucket, and I knocked off as much of the old, flaking paint as possible. Mr. Farmer located a small can of leftover white paint from some previous project, but other supplies were lacking. So, like with most spur-of-the-moment projects, I improvised. A disposable takeout container from some Chinese food made a suitable paint tray. There were no large paintbrushes available, so I used a rag made from an old towel. In no time, the rock was sparkling white on the flat side that faced the road.

Next I had to see to the bed itself. I dug out what seemed like miles of roots and sifted out the driveway stones that had been splashed into the bed. I repaired the stone wall. I dug a deep hole on one side of the bed, and lined the bottom with straw, as suggested by Mr. Farmer. I set in the beautiful, flowering mum(mum) and backfilled it with aged pig manure. I leveled the dirt, touched up the paint, and the job was done.

Now this is the beautiful sight that greets me when I come home from work in the evening:

I Can't Wait to Choose the Flowers for
the Other Side of the Bed!

Life Is Good: Breakfast in Bed? No, Thanks.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!


I know my blog appeals to women and mothers in addition to others that are interested in the Rural Arts, so I'm going to step off topic a little today, if you will indulge me. The tradition of serving dear old Mom breakfast in bed on Mother's Day is sweet and quaint. The idea behind it, I suppose, is that Mom probably makes breakfast (or at least coffee) for everyone in the house every day for a large number of years. Therefore, on her special day, she should be treated not only to a breakfast that she did not prepare, nor needs to clean up, but that she should not even need to tidy up her appearance or even so much as get out of bed to enjoy it.

But wait- Shouldn't I enjoy it? Shouldn't I be pleased that I get to eat a hot breakfast on a Sunday morning? Shouldn't I be overjoyed that I get to sleep in a little and still eat breakfast long before noon? After all, if I wanted to make a hot breakfast on a Sunday morning I would first have to clean up the kitchen, wash up and get dressed, deal with whatever drama the kids could create during that time, and then feed everyone else their hot breakfast before I could eat mine. This is the reality of Sunday Morning Hot Breakfast on any of the other 51 of the year. The reality of Mother's Day Breakfast in Bed is a little different.

Mother's Day morning, on more than one occasion, I have been awakened by the well-meaning giggles of little children. It doesn't take long to figure out what they are up to, so I stay in bed. I can't sleep well, since it is somewhat late in the morning already and there is much clinking of glasses and banging of pots and pans, but I stay put. I strain to hear what is going on- desperate to discern something that assures me that there is adult supervision in that kitchen. I doze off a little, wait a little, and doze off for a while longer. Then, when the meal and small, darling, hand-made gifts arrive, everyone wishes me a Happy Mother's Day...

AND LEAVES.

Suddenly I am alone. Father and the children eat their breakfast at the dining table, quietly so as not to disturb me. I have adorable little cards or paper cups with precious little sprouted pea plants in them, a hot breakfast, a steaming cup of tea, and no one to enjoy it with!

Many years ago I explained this to my family. I made them bring their breakfasts along and we all had a picnic in my bed. On Mother's Day, the last thing I want is to be alone. Before my daughter was born, I was so excited for my "day off." I couldn't wait for that day in the hospital where the nurses would take care of the 2nd child, my parents would take care of the first, and I would sit back, enjoy the quiet, and rest. By 10 am that morning I was crazy with loneliness and boredom. I wanted my crazy toddler to chase around! Having a day off on a day when the kids are in school is the same: If Mr. Farmer is out and about, it isn't long before the empty house seems... well... empty.

So children young and old I implore you: DO NOT abandon your mother in her bed alone with a tray of food on Mother's Day. Eat quietly with her. Tell her happy stories about how you made the breakfast or the paper-doily greeting card. Joke and laugh and say kind things to your siblings in front of her so she feels like she brought you up right.

Then do the dishes.

Homemade English Muffin and Tea

UPDATE: The kids did great. I got my breakfast in bed, with company. Little Miss Farmer was her usual clever self, Young Master Farmer did the cooking, and they both (via Mr. Farmer) got me a beautiful flower to plant. I had a blast playing in the dirt and making the bed at the end of the driveway beautiful. What a perfect Mother's Day!

Pigs: Get a Life, Lady.

For most of the day I thought I was too depressed to write, but I'm not. However, I'm still unhappy, so this is not going to be pretty. Mom, if you are reading this, you might want to stop now.


***Seriously, Mom, you aren't going to like this. Go play on Facebook or something. I mean it. ***

It was hard for Mr. Farmer to give up the pigs. I know this. But when we got evicted from the Beta Site, there was no choice. We knew we couldn't bring them home; our neighbors have been laying in wait since we sent them away some months ago. We quickly put some down and shoved the rest into a less-than-ideal situation where they await their fate, which has yet to be determined. There was some small comfort in knowing that some of the piglets were being sold off for a very worthwhile cause: the 4-H Club.

That comfort did not last, however. In the process of transferring them to the going away vehicle in our driveway, the understandably distressed piglets kicked up a fuss. It wasn't a half hour later before the phone was ringing off the hook (again), and the nosiest of our neighbors were peering over from a safe distance through the trees.

***Last chance to turn away, Mom.***

Don't try to tell me it isn't personal. Was she really that upset and frightened by the noise? I don't think so. It is far more likely that the stupid cow was so bored on a Sunday afternoon that she had nothing better to do than overplay the inconvenience of 30 seconds of squealing. Perhaps she is such a loser that the only thing she can do to socialize is complain about us. I guess I should feel sorry for her, right? I mean, if you need to make up excuses to call your "friends" on a quiet day, then maybe you really are alone in the world. That is truly tragic, don't you think?