We slowly crept down the mountain road searching the woods for our prey. Suddenly Alex screams out “Puff balls!” and I slam on the brakes. Before the car even comes to a stop the passenger door swings open. Alex is pulling his knife from his pocket before his feet hit the ground and he quickly … Continue reading
Hear it here, folks. Farmer Marty tells the story of himself in the life he lived before this one. A monthly event in Boise called “Story Story Night” invites people to tell true stories on a theme. Last month’s theme was “Rights of Passage,” and Farmer Marty was the only storyteller with the nerve to … Continue reading
This is not at all what I planned, but I ended up with a whole lot of mutton. We knew for weeks we were going to have this mutton, so I set out doing some research. Most of my friends had never eaten mutton. I had never knowingly eaten mutton. My grandmother loves it, “oh … Continue reading
Despite the love and pleasure food has brought me, it’s a conflicted affair. When I don’t eat I get grumpy. Bob Marley said, “a hungry man is an angry man.” I believe him. The closest thing to my heart is my belly. I hate being hungry. When I am really famished a salad and steamed … Continue reading
Celebration Park sits on the bank of the Snake River inside the Canyon. It’s Idaho’s first archeological park. The Eagle scouts have really out done themselves on the picnic area around the vistor’s center. The big attraction at Celebration Park is the atlatl range and the petroglyphs. Highly recommend calling the park to find out when the … Continue reading
I can’t say as I would recommend a trip to Buhl, Idaho. So much first class farmland wasted on feed corn makes a vegetable farmer shake his head in disgust. All this to feed cows confined to shit filled pens waiting for slaughter or heifers (udders in the shit) needing to be milked. No wonder … Continue reading
Walking through grandma’s apartment makes me think of Old Papa’s house. Grandma took care of her father as he slowly faded away at 92. By the time I was born my grandma lived at Old Papa’s house on the side of Mt. Olympus at the mouth of Mill Creek in Salt Lake City. My great-grandfather, … Continue reading
Despite the March snow I can smell spring and taste peas. The daffodils, tulips, garlic and other bulbs are pushing through the surface reaching for the sky. I wish I could till my field, but it’s too wet. Instead, I focus on inside tasks like seeding, organizing piles, building stuff in the shop, marketing, networking … Continue reading
Cast Iron 