Harvesting Potatoes

 Today we harvested potatoes.

 It was a lot like digging for treasure

And finding it.

Lots of it!

Yum!

Simple Science - Planting Seeds

What to do on a blustery February day when you are stuck inside? 

Plant seeds of course!

Prepare the dirt

Poke drainage holes in egg carton planters

Fill with dirt then gently plant seeds

Put them on a sunny windowsill  

(make sure the soil stays moist)

Watch them grow!!!

Love Ewe Sheep

I came across a picture of these Love Ewe Sheep we made last year (before I started blogging) and thought it might inspire some Valentines cards.

To make them I cut out blocky "n" shapes for legs and faces shaped like a peanuts with floppy ears out of black construction paper. I also cut out a bunch of different sized hearts from red construction paper. The big sheep body is a crumpled coffee filter, and the smaller one is a crumpled oval of tissue paper. The kids glued all the pieces together on a background color of their choice.

One detail I do recall from making them was that it didn't matter if the legs were glued down first or not because little ones rarely glue edge tight anyway.

Everything is Dangerous - Letter to a Home Town

Way Back in the 70's

Everything is Dangerous These Days

“US Doctors Say Trampolines are a Danger toKids” Ummm ok. I have to wonder: Is there some new risk with trampolines that makes this newsworthy? Have strange trampolines started stalking our kids, following them home from school, offering them candy? Do doctors in Canada feel the same way? If more parents taught their kids the Five Little Monkeys song would fewer heads be bumped? Is anything considered safe these days?

Wow. I suddenly feel old. I am on the verge of one of those ‘Back in my day’ rants where the crazy old lady goes on about how when we were kids our parents let us roam like wild chickens, trusting that our pea sized brains would lead us back to roost at night. If I am not careful I will follow that up with a tale of how there was no crime and everyone was happy and fit and how it would still be that way if it wasn’t for the fact that Scooby Doo and those meddling kids quit going to church.

It is true that back my day I didn’t have a trampoline. I wasn’t allowed to jump on the beds either. (Strangely enough, I don’t remember being warned about hurting myself, just about breaking the bed.) When it came to finding means of potentially injury I was left to my own devices. I did things like tie a rope between two tree tops and try to scale across. I tested the thickness of ice by kicking through it. I was confident that bales of hay and stunt landing pads were interchangeable. I was a free range kid to the extreme and I survived for the most part unscathed. (As a parent I look back and wonder how).

Ideally our kids get the benefit of learning from our mistakes. In turn they get to make a whole new set of their own, thereby advancing into adulthood twice as mature and well adjusted as we did. (But wait… That would mean admitting to all that dumb stuff we did and they might tell our parents. Never mind.)

Left to their own device, the dumb stuff kids do has real world consequences, most of which are not a matter of life or death. Doing things and experiencing the consequences teaches how to navigate through fears and illustrates the difference between real and perceived risk. Fear has a lot of sway in the choices we make all through life, so this is a good skill to have.

Now my caveat: survival to spite youthful ignorance regarding the true danger of a given action is not good reason to let your own kids do the same dumb stuff. Kids, do not kick through ice to test its thickness. Trust me. Walking home in winter boots filled with water is no fun and I am glad I was close to the bank. Also, bales of hay are a close approximation to a stunt landing pad, but stuntmen have a lot of training (and an ambulance on site).

I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

Yogurt, Apple & Summer Squash Muffins

Yogurt, Apple & Summer Squash Muffins

Ingredients:

1 egg
1/4 cup coconut oil
1/2 cup sugar
¾ cup Vanilla yogurt (you can use any complementary flavor or plain too)
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3/4 cup all purpose flour
3/4 cup whole wheat flour
2 cups combined summer squash & apple shredded (I used a small yellow straight neck squash and a large Macintosh apple – you can use whatever variety of summer squash and apple you like)

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350 and prepare the muffin tins.
In a big bowl beat egg, sugar, oil, and yogurt. Fold in the summer squash and apple. Stir in the baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon then the flours.
Fill muffin cups about 2/3 of the way. Bake for about 20 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.

ENJOY!

 

 

No Pectin Ginger Nectarine Jam

 

No Pectin Ginger Nectarine Jam

Makes about 2 Pints (4 jam jars)

10 Medium Nectarines (about 2-1/2 lbs)

1 T Candied Ginger (minced)
1 T Fresh Ginger (peeled & grated)
1 T Dried Ginger
1-1/2 C Sugar
2 T Lemon Juice

Wash, pit and chop nectarines. How small depends on how chunky you like your jam: smaller = smoother. You can peel them if you want to, but that just seems like way more work than it is worth as the peels break down a lot while cooking.

Put all of the ingredients into a large wide saucepan or deep frying pan. Bring to a boil them lower to a simmer stirring regularly for about 20 minutes.

You can tell when it is done a few ways: It will be about 200 degrees on a candy thermometer, when you stir it will leave a ‘path’ behind the spoon for a moment, or you can just test it by taking a small spoonful out and popping it in the freezer for 30 seconds to cool.

Ladle into jars leaving about ¼ inch head space, wipe the rims, lid and process in a hot water bath. If you plan to eat it up in the next 6-8 weeks, you can skip the bath and just keep it in the fridge.  

 

Based on a recipe  originally found on www.foodandwine.com

Yummy on Honey Wheat Ritz!

Zucchini Peach Bread

Not too sweet and not to heavy, this bread is a great grab on the run breakfast

or afternoon snack - perfect for those up and coming school days!

 

Zucchini Peach Bread

¾ C Whole Wheat Flour
¾ C All Purpose Flour
½ C Quick Cook Oats (Uncooked)
1 t Baking Soda
½ t Baking Powder
4 T Butter
4 T Vegetable Oil
1/3 C White Sugar
1/3 C Brown Sugar
2 Eggs
2 T Milk
1 t Almond Extract
½ t Lemon Zest (or 1 T lemon Juice)
1 C Shredded Zucchini
2 Peaches Shredded or Mashed (Yes, this means peach mush!)
½ C Pecans (Optional)

Preheat oven to 350

Cream together butter, oil and sugars. Add eggs, milk, almond extract, and lemon zest and mix thoroughly. Mix in the zucchini and peaches, followed by the baking soda, powder, oats and flour. Fold in nuts last. Grease and spread batter into 2 small loaf pans 8” or 9” square baking pan. Bake for apx. 40 minutes.

Note: This bread will slice ‘cleaner’ after sitting overnight.

(Originally based on Garden Fresh Bread from Cooks.com)

Make a Llama with Art Mama - Toddler Art Project

Story Time Llama

Make a Llama with Art Mama

Age: 18 Months - 5 Years (younger ones need more supervision)

Time: 10 min (+ Prep)

Theme: Llamas

Books: Llama Llama Misses Mama by Anna Dewdney, Is Your Mama a Llama by Deborah Guarino

Materials:
Card stock and printer
Yarn (the fuzzier the better)
Adults get to use Scissors & Hole Punch

Super Fuzzy Yarn!

Prep: Find a simple drawing of a llama. (I choose these by Kat Wong http://www.katdoodles.com/2012/02/l-is-for-llama.html) Instead of just printing out the page, copy the image and paste it into a word document. Adjust page orientation and the size of the image as desired. Print image onto cardstock paper. Cut out in rough outline, then punch holes within the body of the llama. Cut a length of yarn for each llama about 18” long.

Llama Full of Holes

 Activity: Each child gets a llama and a length of yarn. Thread the yarn through the holes every which way until your llama is sufficiently fuzzy. If you have extra yarn at the end, you can give your llama a scarf! Introduce your llama to your mama and your friends.

Llama in Progress

Notes/Tips: If little ones have difficulty putting the end of the yarn through the holes, demonstrate how to hold the yarn against the back of the hole so some of the ‘fuzz’ can be grasped and pull the yarn through. In Word, if you format the picture as ‘Behind Text’ it will allow you to move it freely around the page. Heavier paper makes a sturdier llama – but be aware of your printer capabilities.

The Ultimate Hide-a-Veggie Recipe - A Letter to a Home Town

My Family Says I Try to Hide Veggies in Everything!

In honor of Sneak Some Zucchini Onto Your Neighbor's Porch Day (August 8th) here is a Letter from the archives.

Those with a garden of significant size can tell you: now is the season of bounty! Veggies abound in midsummer. Tomatoes shine like red Christmas balls on the vine. Carrots have grown beyond wee fingerlings. Summer squashes could squish out every other dish on the table.

Thanks to the CSA I mentioned a while back, even without a garden of our own, this year we are lucky enough to partake as though we had. The quantity of fresh vegetables delivered weekly reflects the bounty of the season. (Bonus: knowing it would cost far more if we bought them at the grocery store.)

Contrary to planting our own garden, we had no say over what seeds were sown in spring. The result is that nearly every week we receive some vegetable that I have no experience preparing: garlic scapes, purple kale, fava beans, etc. I consider this incentive for culinary exploration. I am also thankful that my companion has an adventurous pallet!

Along with the unusual, sometimes the sheer quantity of produce presents a challenge. Nearly every dish I have prepared over the past few weeks, from stuffed eggplant to fresh squeezed lemonade, has contained fresh basil. One week’s surplus of cucumbers became refrigerator pickles for the elder kids to enjoy when they come home from their upstate adventures. Lately the challenge has been how to use the gluttony of zucchini.

Excess zucchini is not an unfamiliar experience. Zucchini grows well in the North East. Almost everyone with space enough grows them. This means a bumper crop in one garden is a bumper crop in every garden. This inevitably leads to sneaking zucchini onto neighbor’s porches in the dead of night; a well meaning, yet desperate measure that an unyielding overabundance of zucchini may yield.

Thankfully zucchini is a versatile and easily disguised vegetable. (Come to think of it, I don’t remember Grandma ever making plain zucchini.) Zucchini bread was the first thing I made (Joan’s recipe from the church cookbook.) I’ve snuck it into omelets. It is a staple in stir fry. Marinated in Italian dressing, it is fabulous on the grill (an idea borrowed from Aunt Patty). With eggplant in the CSA basket, ratatouille is on the menu. My latest endeavor: Chocolate Zucchini Cookies - an ultimate hide-a-veggie treat! Just in case anyone else is looking for a way to use up some zucchini…

Chocolate Zucchini Cookies

* 1/2 cup butter *1/2 cup white sugar *1/2 cup brown sugar *1 egg *1 teaspoon vanilla extract *2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour *1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder *1 teaspoon baking soda *2 cups grated zucchini

Mix butter, egg, vanilla & sugars – then the baking soda and cocoa then the zucchini and finally the flour. Drop rounded spoonfuls onto baking sheet the bake at 350 for about 10 minutes. Makes about 3 dozen.

Optional additions – a scant cup of chocolate chips in the batter or swipe of cream cheese frosting on top. If a veggie hater asks what the green stuff in them is, tell them it’s apple.

             I hope this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

Somewhere Between Here and There - Letter to a Home Town

It has been a long time since I traveled alone with just a toddler in tow. She frets and plays on the long ride, but mostly she sleeps the trip away. For me, the sole driver, life is suspended for the passage of miles. I imagine myself caught in an elevator between floors. The only real difference is that I have some control over what music plays. My monkey mind dances to the tune.

The car is packed to the roof with North Country fare. There are enough fresh picked blueberries to both eat and freeze. The syrup alone makes up for a passenger. But mostly the seats of absent passengers are filled with things from my grandparent’s house. There has to be a metaphor in that somewhere.             

It has been eight months since Grandpa died. The arduous task of sifting, sorting, distributing is beginning to wind down. I claim no credit here. The burdens and privileges were for a generation before mine. Now the estate sale is just a few weeks away. My Grandparents left no shortage of interesting and useful things.

Price tags on memories. The possessions are in a state of flux: personal belongings are transforming into assets of the estate. It is all just stuff now; stuff that they left behind. Now that the immediate family has taken choice, strangers will be able to pay dollars for leftover things. Dollars will wash the memory trail clean. In another house they will begin a new life with new meaning.

My traveling companion will have no memory of her Great Grandparents. I shift the rearview mirror to glimpse at her sleeping face. Right now the blueberries have more meaning in her world. They are her new favorite fruit. The family bible, the tiny china dolls, the smocked pillow mean nothing yet. They are stepping stones I have collected for traveling into the world that came before her. One day she will use them to prompt us, and we will share our memories. Lessons of heritage come through heirlooms.

My dad handed me the box marked “Grandpa Yandeau’s Candy Jar” with instructions. It needs to be filled with hard candy, specifically butterscotch flavor (with the possible exception of Horehound). He recalled how Grandpa Yandeau would use a hammer to break hard candy, then share the pieces small enough that he couldn’t choke on them. Grandpa Yandeau was my Grandma’s father. He was short, a veteran, worked on the railroad and they lived in Rochester. I have no memories of him of my own.

The lights and city traffic pull my monkey mind into the present. Highway driving is better suited for deep thought. The elevator, once stuck, lurches into motion. In two word sentence structure my traveling companion requests “music off”. I pull up in front of our apartment in a car load of North Country fare and memories. I am happy to see my companion by the door waiting to help me unload.  

I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

Blueberries!!!

When we were in Northern NY last week, the blueberries were ripening so fast that my Uncle could hardly keep up picking them. I helped pick twice; once while my girl filled her belly basket and practiced her colors (blue, purple & green), then again by myself. We made our way back to the city with an ample supply for eating and freezing.

Back in the city - CSA pick-up day. Our share included... You guessed it: Blueberries! (And of course the ever present zucchini. I am always looking for new things to do with zucchini.) This weeks quest - a good Blueberry Zucchini Bread recipe. I found one on the blog My Baking Addiction (here: http://www.mybakingaddiction.com/blueberry-zucchini-bread/) and with some help from little hands we made a batch. The verdict... YUM! I am actually hoping that we get blueberries and zucchini again.

 

 

Cousins Week - Letter to a Home Town

Cousin Art Time

I don’t want to! I am digging in my heels! I am balling my fists! I am sticking out my bottom lip! I don’t want to get out of the lake and dry off! I don’t want to go and write my column! I want to keep playing! This is my cousin time! Sigh. Okay. I’ll get to it. But first watch me jump off the dock just one more time.

I was the only grandchild for 8 years. That is a long time. When others told the tales of summer get-aways and gatherings with all the cousins their own age, I always felt a little left out. It wasn’t that I didn’t get to go places and do things. I just didn’t have any cousins my age.

There were advantages to being a singleton. I got to go all kinds of places with a lot of different family members. Just one kid, especially one who is adept at self entertainment, is pretty easy to take along. I got to go to Canada and to Michigan. I got spoiled in all the households we visited where their own children had grown.

When I was 8 my first cousin came along. It was pretty cool for the first year or two. She was cute and didn’t do much. I got attention for giving her attention. The thing is she got older and some claimed even cuter. As far as I was concerned she was quickly becoming decidedly less fun and more bother. A 3 year old tag-along was not my 11 year old idea of an ideal playmate.

8 years is a lifetime when you are 8. When I was 16 I was I twice her age (and I knew everything). When I had my first kid, 8 years behind she was still a kid. When she had her first kid, I was a seasoned mommy with two.  A funny thing was happening though: with each year, 8 years became less and less of a gap. These days 8 years may as well be 8 months. She even has more kids than me!

Hosted by our uncles (YAY!), this week we are at Trout Lake. Five adults, three teens, two tweens and four under four; the house is filled to the rafters with cousins. Breakfast goes on for a couple of hours as the seemingly endless stream of bodies awake. Like ants to a melon rind we trail to the lake to swim and play all morning. The melting pot of ages and stages means enough eyes, hands and laps that everyone gets some free time and me time. I have even gotten to write this column virtually undisturbed.

You’ll pardon me now. I must sign off. I want to go check on my daughter the elder. Her 3 year old cousin has been trailing her all day and a 3 year old tag along when you are 11… I have a hunch she’d appreciate a break.  

I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

Cousin Play Time

Crazy Animal House - Toddler Art Project

Crazy Animal House

Age: 18 Months - 5 Years or older (younger ones need more supervision)

Time: 15 min (+ Prep)

Theme: Doors, Windows, Houses

Books: The Doghouse by Jan Thomas, A Visitor for Bear by Bonny Becker

Materials:

Construction Paper
Glue Sticks
Small pictures or silhouettes of animals (I used recycled wrapping paper, but it is easy to find and print images)  
Adults get to use Scissors, Exacto Knife and a Ruler

Prep: The house is made from a half sheet of construction paper (6 x 9). You can freehand or use your own measurements for the house, window and door or use mine. Mine were cut with an exacto knife as follows: Mark the Center (3”) of the top of the sheet. From 2” down on each side cut to the top center, creating the ‘roof’. Cut parallel lines 1” and 3” below the roof edge (3” and 5” down from the top) and about ½” from each of the edges. Make a horizontal cut in the middle (3” from edge) to create two window shutters.  The door is 1” below the window (6” from the top), the horizontal cut (top) 2” long and the vertical edge cut to the bottom of the page. The animals are easier – size them so they can ‘hide’ behind the windows and door and cut them out.

Activity: Each child gets a full sheet of construction paper (or copy paper), a pre-cut house, an assortment of animals to choose from and a glue stick. Glue the house to the full sheet of paper (an adult can help fold the windows and door open so they don’t get glued closed). Choose and glue animals inside and outside of the house. Color if desired. 

Notes/Tips: Putting the animals out on a large paper plate will help them from ending up everywhere. The kids I did this with had a lot of fun playing ‘peek-a-boo’ with the animals in the houses, as well as inviting the adults to ‘guess’ where they were.

Barbie's Pet Chicken - My latest karartke

Looks like Princess Barbie and her friends are raising back yard chickens.

I wonder how long until the new Barbie Coop hits store shelves...

Silk Dyed Eggs

When our Cochin Bantam hens started laying last year, it seemed like everyone who saw them commented on how dainty and beautiful the eggs were. This got me thinking – maybe I should make some sort of a craft with them.

I think it was my cousin who suggested that I silk dye them. Apparently way back in the day there was a Martha Stewart episode that featured her being taught how to silk dye eggs. I didn’t see it. What I did see was this instructional filled with luscious pictures: http://www.ourbestbites.com/2012/03/silk-dyed-eggs-aka-tie-dyed/ that made me absolutely want to try it myself.

I dyed my first ones back in November using an old skirt that I had. They came out great. I went out and bought some silk ties and did some more. I found out that the darker colors, specifically purple and blue, transfer the best. I also found out that some ties, even though they are marked silk – are lying. I made ornaments with the dyed eggs (I always blow them first), sold a few at a local craft fair, but mostly gave them away as gifts.

This spring when the girls started laying again, I decided I would make another batch for our spring holiday basket. So far I think this is my favorite way to dye eggs!

Letters to a Home Town "A Pie for Pi Day" (with a recipe for Maple Apple Pie)

It was recently noted that I had not yet shared any recipes on my blog, so I went in search of a Maple one in honor of the season. What I found was this Letter from almost exactly 2 years ago - A pie for Pi day!


A Pie for Pi Day

  I didn’t even know it was a holiday until a few years ago. Unless you are a bit of a nerd, there is a good chance that you have overlooked it too; March 14th is Pi Day (aka π Day).
            For those who could use a refresher, Pi is a mathematical (and physical) constant representative of the ratio of the circumference to the diameter of a circle. Numerically it is equal to 3.14159265358979323846……. For most math, science and engineering calculations, 3.14159 is close enough. For purposes of celebration, 3.14 or March 14th is perfect! (A bonus: It also happens to be Einstein’s birthday.)
So what does one do in celebration of Pi Day? Well, make and eat pies of course! Pies come in all kinds: cherry, rhubarb, mincemeat, pecan, shepherd’s, key lime, peach, and don’t forget pizza pie! Everyone has a favorite.
Our current household favorite is a Maple Apple Pie. A concoction inspired by a late night pregnancy craving, this pie is a conglomeration of multiple recipes referenced but not followed.
In honor of the Pi day just passed, and maple sugaring season in full swing, here is an approximation of how it is made, (editorial comments included).
Maple Apple Pie (9”)
 Crust
1 stick Butter
¼ c Maple Syrup
1-1/4 c Flour
Mix it all up, make it into a ball and set in a cool place.
(I have heard that if you are partial to a flaky crust then the butter should still be hard. I let the butter get soft because I don’t have an electric mixer it makes my life easier.)
Filling
5 or 6 Medium sized Apples (I am partial to Macintosh)
1/4c Maple Syrup
½ tsp Vanilla
1 tsp Cinnamon (if you’re like me and aren’t very good at shaking an even coating - mix with 1 tsp Sugar)
Peel and slice the apples and put them in a big bowl. (Keep in mind that how many you need is directly proportional to how many slices eaten as you cut.)  Mix together Maple Syrup and Vanilla pour it over the apples. Toss it all around until apples are completely coated. Set aside and pull out the ball ‘o crust.
 Roll out ½ the dough for the bottom crust and put it a 9” pie pan. (Stir the apples and syrup again any time you think of it)  Dump about half of the apples into the crust, dust with a light coating of cinnamon (and sugar), then add the rest of the apples and dust them with the remaining cinnamon. Roll out the rest of the dough and make a top crust (I make lattice crusts because solid ones always rip when I try to put them on – and because lattice crusts look cool). Bake at 350˚ for about 25 min. (until the crust turns golden).
Happy belated Pi Day!   
            I hope this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

Letters to a Home Town - "What is a CSA?"

Today it felt like spring so under the guise of putting up fliers for the CSA, we headed for the park. "What is a CSA?" you ask. Read on...

Mixing Work With Play

What is a CSA?
(Letter Circa June 2010)

A CSA in my neighborhood?! I stared wide eyed at the flier stapled to the pole by the train station stairs. I glanced up to be sure I had gotten off at the right stop. ‘Fresh from the farm organic produce’ the flier touted. My mouth salivated at the prospect.

Mine is not exactly the kind of neighborhood that you would expect a CSA to be forming. We don’t have a farmers market (though there are about 50 in NYC) or a health food store.  There is no coffee shop offering organic fair trade coffee and live jazz every Saturday night. It is a working class neighborhood where people get their morning coffee at the corner bodega and come home at night with no wish greater than to kick off their shoes and watch a little TV. Don’t get me wrong. I really like the area I live in. It just doesn’t have the same offerings as can be found in some other areas of NYC.

CSA is an acronym for Community Supported Agriculture. How it works is that members pay a farm in advance for shares of a seasons produce, then receive deliveries of fresh product throughout that season. In some ways it is a lot like having a big garden; you can’t be picky. You get what is in season. If it is a bumper year for cucumbers, you get to make pickles. 

One of the most challenging things about getting enough people together in an area to form a designated CSA delivery point for a farm is that becoming a member is an investment. CSAs are based on a shared risk and reward system. Money is paid to the farm at the beginning of the season with no guarantee beyond an unspecified quantity and variety of produce delivered weekly. For families accustomed to budgeting their groceries by the week, investing in produce months in advance is an unfamiliar and sometimes difficult concept to fathom. Then there is always the (not so) simple matter of having the money to invest. 

With a creative cook and an adventurous pallet in the house, we knew we wanted in. With a little fund shuffling, we’ve found a way. Beyond the promise of fresh fruits and vegetables, joining a CSA gives us the opportunity to support something we believe in; small farms and local businesses. A portion of our groceries this summer and well into the fall will be coming from a farm less than 200 miles away. This may sound far, but then consider, much of the produce at our local grocery stores comes from Florida, California, Mexico and Peru. Tomatoes that have traveled 1,000 miles get road weary.

Peas, beans, mixed greens and strawberries are all expected in the first week’s delivery. I’ve heard there are sometimes ‘surprises’ so I am hoping for asparagus too. I am sure that there will be times when I am soliciting recipes for whatever arrives, but it will be worth it. I’ve never made pickles before.

I hope this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

Letters to a Home Town "A Cow in Queens"

For those who don't know, my 'Letters' are published in a small weekly newspaper called the Gouverneur Tribune Press. Gouverneur NY is about as rural as you can get in comparison to NYC where I live now. As a rule they have a lot more in common than most people think, but every once in a while... Well... Read on... (First published September '07)

Thompson Farm Barnyard From the Hill Nov 2011

A Cow In Queens

It wasn’t front page news but it warranted as much space as this column in most of the major NYC papers, some even included a picture and a map! It was note worthy enough story that the following day a few people asked me if I had seen it and one even cut a clipping for me. What was the story about? A cow got out.

Cows do that; they get out some times. Never in my life did I imagine such an event would be news worthy! In my experience, when a cow gets out you just chase her back in again. If she isn’t yours you get in touch with whoever she belongs to and help them get her back in again. In the unlikely event you don’t know who she belongs to; you corral her then call around to see who is missing a cow. There is no drama, no news coverage, and certainly no calls to 911. Yes, this bovine prompted people to call 911, over half a dozen of them!

The news reporting on this story was a delight! The New York Daily News reported that she was captured “After leading authorities on a 49-minute chase…”, included a quote from the Police Commissioner “The cow is in custody.” and a first person account from the twelve year old who’s yard she was captured in “I was sort of scared because it could have hurt somebody.”

There is only speculation as to the ownership of Queeny Maxine. (Some reports called her Queeny while others Maxine. I have combined the two to prevent any confusion as to if I might be writing about a different cow on the loose here in NYC). No one came forward to claim her. Her picture may as well have been on the side of a milk carton for as many eyes as fell upon her image. Someone must have recognized her! Cows aren’t cheap! Why on earth would no-one claim her?!?! It is actually pretty easy to figure out why; everyone prefers a story to have a happy ending.

It is most likely that Queeny Maxine got loose from one of the 75 plus live animal markets in NYC. These are legal licensed markets and many slaughter on premises. No one wants to be read the headline “Captured Cow Returned to Slaughter”, it is anticlimactic to say the least. Reclaiming her would have meant at best, bad press, and at worst riotous vegetarians, neither of which is a positive for her former owner. It is better to take the loss in silence than risk the alternatives. The ending that has befallen Queeny Maxine is more newsworthy anyway; the escapee is headed to live out her years on a 175 acre no-kill sanctuary; a sort of health spa retreat for runaway cows. This is one of those times when I have to admit, in some ways NYC is nothing like Gouverneur!

I hope this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…