A Horse Named Darrell

Modern days call for modern means of rounding up the goats and cattle.  My modern horse is named "Darrell".  I inherited Darrell from one of our lease hunters whose name is (surprise!) Darrell.  Darrell would leave his 4-wheeler on the ranch year-round.  He told us to utilize the 4-wheeler and keep it in good shape during off-season as opposed to it collecting dust and not starting up each hunting season when he would use it.  I claimed it since the other ranch 4-wheelers are pretty much spoken for.  

Darrell (the wheeler, not the hunter) is my means of transportation on the ranch.  It comes in handy when hauling trash, feed and even Buddy Dog.  Buddy likes to ride in the back basket.  The front basket is the perfect size to hold my care package, camera and tools. Darrell is equipped with a clock which comes in handy when I'm out and about and supposed to pick up Sam at a particular time from wherever he is clearing brush on the bulldozer.  

Last fall, Darrell (the hunter) gave me full ownership of Darrell (the wheeler).  The hunter said he prefers to travel in the comfort of his pickup to and from the blinds.  "There is more room in the back of the pickup than on the back of the 4-wheeler to haul the big bucks back to camp."  

Darrell (the wheeler, not the hunter) and I have traveled many miles together and hope to travel many more.  It is especially nice to have when I travel cross-country to the river.  Thanks, Darrell (the hunter), for the best kind of horse a woman could ask for!  :)

The Cave

Sam discovered this cave while clearing cedar in what we call the "250" or "White Tail Pasture".  His bull dozer shifted on the rock plate as he went over it.  Kennon was the guinea pig and took these photos to share with those of us who are claustrophobic.  With the help of Sam and Mike, Kennon was lowered into the cave using the winch on the 4-wheeler.  As you can tell by the picture to the left, Sam and Mike are quite pleased with themselves.  The cave opening is about twelve feet from the top to the floor of the cave.  The main floor is tall enough to stand up in with room for three to four people.  There is one room to the north of the main floor.  At a later time and date, Mike army-crawled as far back as he could go. No bats, no animal carcasses, no human remains.  And best of all, no spiders or snakes!  In the meantime, Sam constructed a metal ladder that makes for easier access into and out of the cave.  A couple of months after the initial discovery, I worked up the courage to wiggle myself into the cave.  I lasted all of three minutes before I clambered out of there.  I didn't prove anything myself and remain claustrophobic. We have stumbled across other caves on the ranch but none is quite is as impressive as this one.  A smaller cave on the ranch is actually a rattlesnake den and is marked with orange flagging as a warning marker.  No sense in tempting fate.  :)

Stalactites in Main Room
 



Close up of Stalactites in Main Room

Red Velvet Cake

The story of the red velvet cake goes back to my childhood.  Red Velvet Cake is the ultimate birthday cake! Mama would bake each of us a Red Velvet Cake on our birthdays.  We actually looked forward to the special cake as much or more than we did our birthday gifts. Three layers of yummy goodness equals a very happy birthday! As Mama's kids began their own families, the requests for a Red Velvet Cake increased with each additional grandchild.  Four cakes a year became thirteen cakes a year!  Layered cakes became sheet cakes.  Mama decided we would have to share cakes with those having birthdays in the same month. She even tried to trick us into a "quarterly" cake to encompass three birthday months at a time.

A couple of years ago, Kristin was honored with her very own Red Velvet Cake on her 21st birthday. Her Nana had it ready to be picked up when Kristin rolled into town.  It was carefully placed in a tupperware container.  (As a rule of thumb, the Heaps and descendents of the Heaps tend to be, um, clumsy.)  I met Kris at the door to help her carry her in her bags.  She insisted on carrying the cake to the table herself.  There is a grate located at the base of the house steps that we use to clean our muddy shoes.  And that is where the stumble happened.  Down went Kris holding on to the container for dear life trying to save the cake.  I could only watch helplessly from the porch as she crashed.  The look on Kris' face was of dismay and the bottom lip was beginning to tremble. We ended up with a pile of sweet goodness that wasn't much to look at once we got it to the table.  Don't underestimate the power the ultimate birthday cake has over any of Mama's kids or grandkids!  :)