December Recap

My posts were rather sparse this past month. Thankfully, despite the busy month at work, visiting family members kept the mood festive.

Some bad news: Moto will be out of commission for at least six months. His bowed tendon doesn't seem to be noticeably visible or causing him any general discomfort. His current rehab schedule allows him only one five-minute hand walk per day, which means that he's confined to his 12x12 box stall for 23 hours and 55 minutes a day! Poor Moto! It is very troubling, but at least his prognosis is excellent and he's expected to fully heal.

With Moto out of commission, I've been lucky enough to get my horse fix at a nice local horse barn that is hosting the two rescue Thoroughbred yearlings, Winston and Stewie. It's just down the street, and the owner kindly allows me to come by a couple times a week to spend time with the boys. I'm getting pretty attached to Stewie, a gentle, mild-mannered fellow who stands quietly, almost sleeping, while I brush him. If I knew even a thing or two about training young horses, I would adopt him in a minute. But it will be a few years before he'll be old enough to carry a rider on his back--he has a lot of training ahead of him, and he needs an experienced horse owner. Winston is a good boy, but he's still a little skittish. He puts up a small fuss when I approach him with his halter, and he tries to nip me while I'm grooming him. While some gals like the challenge, I've never been attracted to bad boys. I end up spending most of my time with good ole steady Stewie.

The barn is a pleasant place, especially with its family of five pygmy goats. (That's a few of them in the picture above. Rusty, the little reddish guy, is my favorite.) Although I am a sheep person, pygmy goats are irresistible. I'm sure that the Wrangler would love to have some of his own...which is why I bought him two for Christmas! They'll be born in late January and ready to come home seven weeks after their birth. We stopped in on Christmas Day to meet the goat breeder and to see the expectant parents. They live just a few minutes away, so we'll get to see the babies almost immediately after they're born.

Yesterday, the Wrangler and I met with the owners of a local wholesale nursery to discuss an initial order of approximately 7400 lavender plugs. This will be a small order for them--they recently grew 600,000 lavender plugs for a large retailer. The nursery owners (who are the parents of my riding instructor) patiently shared with us a wealth of information on lavender varieties that do well in this climate, as well as watering and planting considerations unique to this area. I've read literally every single book available on growing lavender, but these books focus on growing lavender in other regions--Provence, the Pacific Northwest, Australia, South Africa. There is no substitute for speaking with someone who grows it just a few miles away.

Tonight we will see some friends from Laguna Beach and help prepare and serve the New Year's Eve dinner to the residents of the Friendship House. We're looking forward to catching up with the Laguna crew and, as always, picking up some new cooking tips from our master chef John.

Have a fun and safe New Year's Eve.

Saturday in the Country

Even out here in the country, it's hard to find time to relax. (Real farmers probably would say, "Especially out here in the country, it's hard to find time to relax.") My day started with an early morning orientation for volunteers at Zoofari, the non-profit organization dedicated to housing non-releasable or confiscated wildlife.

The Wrangler and I spent part of the afternoon walking the farm's five acres. Sporting our new muck boots (mine are a pleasing hot pink) and wide-brimmed hats, and armed with the walking stick formerly known as a golf club, we checked the state of the gardens, fencing, orchard, and avocado grove. Our friend, an expert gardener, from Laguna Beach is stopping in tomorrow to give us some much needed direction on mid-summer planting. From what I've read, it's not too late to plant tomatoes, squash, zucchini, peppers, and watermelon, but we'll see what our green-thumbed friend says tomorrow.

In preparation for our visitors, the Wrangler and I dashed over to Temecula this evening to round up some local ingredients: olive oil from olives hand grown, picked, and pressed by the folks at the Temecula Olive Oil Company, a bottle of wine from a nearby vineyard, fresh honey, and strawberry jam. I'll make popovers and a caprese salad (with homemade mozzarella, heirloom tomatoes, and home grown basil). The Wrangler purchased some locally made salsa to mix in with his fresh guacamole.

Tonight I still have to make flashcards to learn the names and species of all the exotic animals at Zoofari, finish up some lawyering, and sketch a blueprint for the barn owl box. It could be a long night. I'm brewing some (caffeinated) tea.

Zoofari

I haven't volunteered at the Ocean Institute since my accident last year. Working as an aquarist aide involves a lot of bending, stretching, and lifting, and I needed the break while I recovered. I do miss the sea stars, cucumbers, jellies, and giant lobsters. But I'm signed up for a new adventure. After an orientation next week, I'm going to start volunteering at Zoofari, a non-profit organization just down the street from the farm. Zoofari rescues non-releasable or confiscated wildlife and sponsors wildlife education programs. Zoofari volunteers work a four-hour shift each week and assist the staff with the feeding, cleaning, and socializing of the animals. The resident animals include a chinchilla, python, wallaby, alligator, tarantula, boa, porcupine, lynx, bobcat, and cheetah. No sheep, though.

Viele Köche verderben den Brei? Not in this case.

I've mentioned before that a bunch of us prepare a meal at the Friendship House once a month. We plan the menu, do the grocery shopping, cook the food, and serve it to about 40 residents. The one thing we do not have to do is the dishes! Our gentle leader John takes pride in ensuring that every dish is made from the best ingredients and served with soul. This month we planned a German menu. John bought a feast's worth of wurst and sauerkraut from Mattern, a German deli in the city of Orange. Mattern is one of those places where people stand on line for 45 minutes to place their order. Judging from the sauerkraut, I can attest that it is worth any wait.

It's hard to pull off a German meal. When you're messing around with all that wurst, pickled cabbage, pork, and potato salad, it really can go either way. I admit that I had some misgivings going into this on Saturday. Minutes after arriving at the Friendship House, John put three of us to work peeling peaches and washing berries for the fruit cobbler. The other three started peeling potatoes for the potato salad--using a treasured recipe from John's friend's grandmother. No mayo. Just vinegar, sugar, green onions, and bacon for seasoning. Served warm, of course.

It's hard to gauge which dish was the piece de resistance, but I think I have to go with the bacon-wrapped pork loin. Yeah, you heard me right. We took two pork loins (5 lbs each) and wrapped them unabashedly in bacon, browned the meat, and popped it in the oven. We basted the meat with a syrupy mixture of vinegar, honey, onion, rosemary, and raisins. We thought there would be a ton of leftovers, but there was absolutely nothing left in any pot, dish, or pan.

Dinner always tastes delicious at the Friendship House. It's a combination of our hard work, the fun of cooking with friends, the gratitude from the residents, and truly good food. Next month is Kansas City-style BBQ.

"Scalpel, Please" or "The Case of the Constipated Fish"

I stopped in at the Ocean Institute this morning to catch up with my fellow animal husbandry volunteers, clean a tank, and assist with a necropsy. A Pacific Mackerel in the schooling tank had been swimming upside down for a week, so he was gently euthanized and put out of his misery. Another volunteer, Allyson, researched possible maladies and concluded that the fish might have been constipated. Constipation puts pressure on the swim bladder, which causes the fish to swim upside down. Our boss disagreed. She said the condition likely was neurological. Allyson expertly performed the necropsy to confirm the diagnosis. She made a clean horizontal incision running from the gills to the tail and then identified and removed each of the major organs. (Did I mention Allyson is in high school? Scrubbing tanks and being intellectually outmatched by high school kids will keep you humble.) The organs looked healthy, which supports our boss's theory. Chief aquarist, 1. Volunteers, 0.

Friendship House

It's been quite a week here at the ranch. I got six hours of sleep last night, which felt luxurious indeed after getting a total of six hours of shut-eye from Tuesday to Friday. It's Puppy Time, and sleep deprivation is only part of the game. We had to leave the little guy at home alone for the first time today while we made dinner at the Friendship House, but we had a neighbor stop in to get her puppy fix while we were gone.

Each month about five of us plan a menu, buy the groceries, and prepare dinner for 40 people "in transition." The Friendship House isn't a soup kitchen; the residents are people actively getting their lives back in order. They may stay for up to 90 days and must be employed and sober during their stay. Our friend John, a lawyer by day but a wonderful cook and skilled gardener in his free time, leads the team of us sous chefs. My daily recipes tend to require things like a can Campbell's cream of mushroom soup, a package of frozen potatoes, or canned fruit cocktail (lest anyone forget that I am from the midwest) but, thanks to John, we don't stoop to using convenience or packaged foods at the Friendship House. Nor do we serve your standard cooking-for-a large-group type of meals like bland spaghetti sauce over sticky pasta, a generic tossed salad in a bag, and over-seasoned store-bought garlic bread. It's cool to see the residents lingering near the kitchen to take in all the good smells as we're working in the kitchen: potatoes au gratin baking in the oven, a delicious stew simmering on the stove. Today we made bread, cornbread, three-meat chili, vegetarian chili, Anasazi beans, salad with homemade croutons, apple crisp, and rice pudding. Everything was made from scratch with organic ingredients.

Even the halfway homes are luxurious in Laguna Beach--the Friendship House has great ocean views, and we always break for a couple minutes to see the sunset. Even better than the sunset? We don't have to do any dishes or other cleanup after the meal.

The Cleaning Lady

Sunday mornings I volunteer in the Animal Husbandry department of the Ocean Institute in Dana Point. As an aquarist aide, my job primarily is to clean the fish tanks, which is as glamorous as it sounds. I also prepare delicious meals of raw chopped squid, shrimp, and sardine fillets for the animals. These include an eel, an octopus, a huge sea hare, sea stars, little sand sharks, rays, skates, sea cucumbers, and giant lobsters. Mmmm, lobster.

The job does have its moments. A shark threw up an unfortunate amount of water and slime into my face while I was peering into its open mouth to inspect its goiter. I've been shocked a few times while working with wet electric cords. I once developed an odd rash on my hand. I can't prove it was from cleaning out the parasites from the quarantine tanks, but I have my s'picions.

I don't know that being a volunteer aquarist aide is particularly urban cowgirl-esque, but I think it's Rainy Day Ranch material because it's definitely not a desk job.