Winter Sojourn: Week's Ranch, where City Person meets Happy Cows

I love cows.  I love eating them even more. 

It may sound "terrible", but the god-awful truth is that the breeds of cows widely recognized and available today would have never existed if it were not for domestication and meat consumption.  But enough about that.

  

Week's Ranch is an 1,000 acre cattle ranch in Santa Rosa, owned by our good friend Jack.  Besides running the ranch, Jack's other full time jobs (not in any particular order) include being an airline captain of a 747, a father, a good friend, and others.  Jack and Eric used to fly together, and remained good friends; I am the beneficiary of their good friendship.  During this trip, I realize I am the beneficiary of many good friendships between Eric and his friends, for which I am immensely grateful.  

Entrance to the habitat of Happy Cows

Jack is 5th generation on the property.
His great great grandfather homesteadded here.

A winter shot from the backyard

Orange Juice tried to sneak a bite
of my chocolate cake

I spent four days on the ranch with the cows, the horses, Axel the border collie, Orange Juice the cat (as well as Rice Crispy and Ginger).  While on the ranch, I learned how to skin a turkey with my bare hands.  We made stir fry, fed hay to animals, went for long hikes, smoked turkey jerky, watched sunrises and sunsets.  We enjoyed the great company of each other and "LOL" a lot.  I was obviously on vacation mode and felt I could live on the ranch for the rest of my natural life...  In reality, my feeble body can't even lift a corner of a bale of hay, nor has Jack invited us to live as squatters on his property.  Like new and shiny bling bling, ranch-living glamor is short lived.  

I remain, a City Person who met Happy Cows at Week's Ranch.  Here lies my documentation.  

Axel chillaxing on the tool box of "his" truck

Jack has a herd of certified Red Angus - you know you are a legit breed if you have your own magazine!  People are probably more familiar with the name Black Angus. In reality, there are no differences between the Red and Black Angus, whether in the breed or the taste of their meat, except black was arbitrarily chosen as the "proper color" over red early in the development of the Aberdeen Angus.  And the rest is history.  

Natural, grass fed, hormone and antibiotics free.
These don't eat a kernel of corn! 

I was having a silent moment with the cows
during my morning hike up the mountain. 

All cattle on the ranch are grass fed, free range, hormone and antibiotics free, and are not fed a kernel of corn or grain. You could not meet any happier and healthier cows. You may have already learned from some health-food or environmental manifesto that it takes 16 pounds of feed and some 2,500 gallons of water to produce one pound of beef.  That is true, but do you know it takes 25 acres of land to raise a grass fed cow naturally to slaughter weight?  I did not.  There is so much I do not know about ranch life, so Jack is my walking encyclopedia.  I was not afraid to ask the most basic and seemingly moronic questions.  After all, I was raised merely a City Person.  

Our sometimes entertaining conversations would go something like this...  

City Person:  What kind of grass do cows like to eat? 

Ranch Person:  The green kind.  

City Person:  Oh.  (Silence...)

Ranch Person:  (Chuckle chuckle...) 

City:  What is the difference between the yellow and red tag on the ears? 

Ranch:  One is the identifier of the breed and the other is the number of the cow.

City:  Do you know the cows by their faces, since you see them everyday? 

Ranch:  Sure!  I see the cow, look at the tag and say "here comes #164!"

City:  Oh.  (Silence...) 

Ranch:  (Chuckle chuckle...)

City:  Why do you supplement with hay in the winter? 

Ranch:  To make sure they have enough to eat this time of the year,  especially the pregnant ones and the calves.  

City:  How heavy is a bale of hay? 

Ranch:  About 50 pounds heavier than you.  

City:  I want to help you with the hay. 

Ranch:  Of course - here!  

City:  (Using proper lifting technique...but failed to lift anything off the ground)    

Ranch:  (Chuckle chuckle...)

City:  (Back to taking pictures)  May I pet the cows? 

Ranch:  Sure, but just pet the bull.  

City:  Which one is the bull? 

Ranch:  That one.  No, not that one.  The one in front of you. 

City:  This one?  Which one?  THIS one right here?  
Ranch:  Yes. 
City:  Why just the bull? 

Ranch:  Because he is pretty sure of himself and he knows he can drop kick you if he wants to.  

City:  Oh.  (Silently and gingerly scratching the bull) 

Ranch:  (Chuckle chuckle)

Raising grass fed cows is expensive.  It takes about 25 acres of grassland and 20 months to raise a cow to maturity.  Even with a thousand acres, much of the property is covered with trees, or without grass.  On a typical year, Jack's cattle roam and feed freely until 7 months.  He then picks the cream of the crop and raises them to maturity and slaughter weight; slaughters and sells the beef, whole or half, to customers.  The rest of the cattle are sold at 7-months to commercial operations such as feedlots.  These cows will finish their lives in commercial feedlots, likely CAFO, although there is no tracking of the cattle beyond the sale. They come packaged at grocery stores and become dinners in various forms.  Such is the fate of domesticated cows, strictly as a matter of fact.  


Week's Ranch has its own bulls, and breeds its own "next generation" of Red Angus. We saw plenty of calves roaming about with the moms - it looked as though they were taking turns babysitting each other's offspring.  After giving birth, the cow typically hides out with the calf at some "undisclosed location" for three days, then she brings her baby to show off to the rest of the herd.  

The calf shown in this photo was merely 4-5 days old - a docile, sweet looking calf that already weighs more than 80 pounds!  




Branding season takes place in January.  Although branding can be achieved by heat or liquid nitrogen, the state of California only recognizes heat branding.  Witnessing how cows live and graze on Jack's ranch naturally made me think about the farmers who raised the beef in my freezer.   

Meanwhile, back at the homestead, other ambitions ensue.  

City Person capturing the opportunity
to pose on a D5 

Aaron the ranch hand sawing the
two 40-year old fir trees into manageable sizes

Jack had to take down two 40-year old fir   trees a week ago - they would have crushed the house in the next big windstorm.  The beautiful trunks will be crafted into a cupboard or cabinet or some sort.  The rest was organized into stacks of firewood for the winter.   

Getting ready to haul the trunks to the saw mill

Red and orange and yellow and green
complement the blue sky beautifully

Hundreds of beautiful Hachiya persimmons 

Another persimmon tree, with much smaller fruit

Black Jack, one of four horses on the property,
works hard to round up the cows with Jack

Black Jack, left
Duke, Right

City Person learned how to skin a turkey
with her bare hands!  I have only known one
way to clean a poultry - dunk it in boiling water
then pluck the feathers.  Jack taught me a much
quicker, less messy way.  Skin it!  

Smoked turkey jerky,
Jack's famous recipe!

The "roping device"

Sunrise,
taken while I was taking a morning hike up the mountain

Going for a hike on the property

Poison oak abound, we could've used a GPS...

The ranch was paradise found. Not only because of its scenery, but because of its unpolluted characters, founded and built by the good, hardworking people of the ranch.  

I was grateful to have been a temporary, small part of the ranch for mere four days.  I was more grateful to have been a beneficiary of Jack and Eric's friendship. The friendship is real; unpretentious; open.  The conversations are genuine.  The people are warm; generous.  


I learned a lot about myself, and once again, it helped with my adjustment and my mindset for returning to work.  I have a deeper and better appreciation that life - my life - is about being playful, with intermittent moments of seriousness; not the other way around.  How others choose to live theirs is not my business.  As for me, being playful is plenty to live by.    

Winter Sojourn: Ashland, where Lumberjack meets Granola

On the road again

Goin' places that I've never been

Seein' things that I may never see again

And I can't wait to get on the road again!

This song gets stuck in my head every time I pack up Albatross for a road trip.  I wish I have a harmonica to jam with a guitarist or two.  Not that I know how to play harmonica, but who cares. 

Our Winter Sojourn is taking us wherever the sun may greet us. South of Seattle is the general direction. It is off to a great start.  

First stop:  Ashland, Oregon.  It is a small town about 50 miles north of the California border. 

Historically a lumber town, Ashland is now a year round haven for arts and crafts.  And the famous Oregon Shakespeare Festival in the summer, of course.  Downtown Ashland is glistened with gift shops and boutiques that boast local talents.  To top it all off, there is the Dagoba Organic Chocolate and its Tasting Room.  It was wicked cold during our visit, in the 20’s to low 30’s everyday with freezing fog in the morning, but beautiful clear blue sky in the afternoon. 

Downtown Ashland at dusk

Boutique-y gift shops line the streets
in downtown Ashland

Another view of downtown Ashland

Moroccan oatmeal with lots of nuts, dates, raisins,
and warm spices

Morning Glory, a local favorite cafe

Chocolate never requires any caption

It's a tasting room, and "taste" we did...

Waiting for the freezing fog to dissipate
so we can go for a hike

We found our way to Mt. Ashland, the highest peak in the Siskiyou Mountains, on a clear, blue bird afternoon.  The air was crisp, cold, and blowing at high velocity.  I lasted all but a minute with all my warmest clothing on, but it sure was gorgeous.    

Evergreens line the road up the mountain.

Panoramic view from Mt. Ashland.
Mt. Shasta is the snow capped mountain directly in front.

I was forever thankful that we were able to stay with our friend in Ashland.  I did not want to lose any fingers to frostbite wild camping.  Leah lives in a co-housing community.  Co-housing is a type of collaborative housing community in which residents actively participate in the design and operation of their own neighborhood.  The physical design of the community encourages social contact, and always has a theme of "shared resources".  There are defined characteristics of a co-housing community that are very different from just any "condo living", however.  


Imagine a community where all residents know each other, have access to extensive common facilities such as open space, courtyards, a playground and a common house.  The common house is the social center with a large dining room and kitchen, lounge, recreational facilities, and frequently a guest room, workshop and laundry room. Communities usually serve optional group meals in the common house at least two or three times a week.  


I have long been enamored with the idea of co-housing and the concept of "shared resources" amongst people you know.  I look forward to revisiting Leah on the way home,  staying at the "guest room", and learning more about her community.  

The co-housing community

A shared bike-parking area.  

Community garden in the co-housing complex

Children's playground at the back of the community,
directly in front of the houses

Tools garage where shared equipment such as
lawn mowers, edgers, and others are kept

Our friend Leah's complex

The Welcoming Committee at the entrance

Random

I couldn't think of a title I want to give this post.  It is a random post, but a warm and fuzzy one.  One that brings good thoughts and encouragement.  And today, I need a post that brings me exactly that:  good thoughts and encouragement. 

The story went something like this:  I received three emails in the last two days from three young ladies who reported to me at various times of my career. Unexpected and random emails.  All were thanking me for believing in them, and for the encouragement and inspiration I gave them when I was their boss, or their manager's boss, some five, ten years ago.  

These are the best random emails.  

But the cool part was not only the fact that these emails made me feel warm and fuzzy and useful.  What's cooler is what I learned through these emails.  

1.  I learned that I may never live to know the impact I make on another person by what I say to him.  So when I am given the chance, choose to remark what just *may* leave a positive impact.

2.  I learned that if I truly believe in somebody, tell her that.  Repeatedly. Sincerely. 

3.  I learned that if I do not try so hard to be "inspiring", but just stick to being my true self, I just may become "inspiring" to another person.  

  

4.  Above all else, I learned that words are worthless if I do not act with integrity.  

On this day, I am particularly encouraged by these emails.  I am incredibly grateful for these ladies' expression of gratitude.  

A Different Kind of New Year's Resolution

So what is it going to be this year?  To exercise?  To lose that ten extra pounds? Have a better work-life balance?  Work less, play more?  Or vice versa?    

I no longer make New Year's resolutions, and have not done so for couple decades due to one simple fact: To decidedly, abruptly, and resolutely change a behavior at a definitive time does not work - that is what a "New Year's Resolution" mean, right? 


A foundational change in behaviors takes more than a declaration if it is meant to sustain over time.  What does it take for the Tipping Point to occur, to propel a mind to think differently and the whole being to act differently? 


Whatever changes we want to sustain, we must start with fundamental understanding of the current situation and a raw desire to arrive at a different place.  It also requires an acceptance that once the changes take place, there is no turning back.  The new becomes the core. 


It is not news to my close friends that I have been on a path in recent years to live more simply and sustainably.  I feel the desire to frequently examine my lifestyle, and strive hard to leave a "lighter footprint" when it comes to the direct and indirect resources I consume.  Among the many things I consider "basic necessities", majority of the world considers them "luxuries": I use paper towels, take hot showers, turn the heater on, drink  filtered water, eat sushi, and yes, drive my car. Knowing they come with an expensive human and environmental price, I want to make informed and conscious decisions when I consume the finite resources that fuel my "basic necessities."  My goal is not to bring on suffering or forgo the comfort and convenience that civilization brings - what's the glory or honor in doing so?  The goal is education.  


I want to be cognizant how nature is intimately connected with and impacted by my decisions when I consume.  


This new year, don't make a resolution to exercise three times a week.  To lose weight.  Or quit smoking.  Or take shorter showers.  Or eat organically.  


Make a different kind of resolution.  


Instead of an abrupt change of behaviors, invest in your education.  Understand how nature is intimately connected to and constantly impacted by your every consumption.  Discover where your drinking water comes from.  Find out what cattle eat naturally, and what they are fed in CAFO farms.  What is a CAFO farm? Understand the role methyl iodide plays in growing California's beautiful, red, gigantic strawberries...but read the opposing view, too, and make your own informed decision.  How much water does it take to make a pair of jeans? Research what it takes to hatch an egg and nurture it to a 4-pound broiler, comparing to the modern industrial breed called Cornish Rock Cross, raised in factories, and reached 4-pound maturity in mere 35 days.   Read about the physiology  of our bodies and why we should eat for weight but exercise for health.  I can go on and on, but this is not about me.  It's about us. All of us.  


Pick a topic of interest, spend some time on it, and share the facts.  There is no place to be defensive, or offensive.  But it does take curiosity.  Some may question the point of uncovering the depressing truth because there is seemingly nothing we can do about it.  Let people answer their own rhetorical question, but decide on your own.  What do you stand for?   


The more we are connected to nature, the more we are connected to ourselves. And each other.  

Hong Kong: Chapter 8 - "Epilogue"

Sometimes I am sickeningly efficient: my luggage was unpacked within two hours after I got home.  The washing machine was making its familiar hum as I laundered the last load of T-shirts and shorts for the season.  If you visit my house, you would not even notice I was gone for five weeks, except may be a few snacks on the counter that are clearly not "local".  Everything at the house is back to normal. 

I received a "Reminder to Return to Work" in the mail yesterday and it made my blood pressure shot up by twenty points.  My sabbatical is coming to an end - only seven more weeks remaining.  The inevitable is quickly approaching...so I thought, a short epilogue may be helpful in bringing everything back to perspective.  


Before I fret further, I decided a skate by the beach would be smart - never take for granted a sunny weekend in Seattle, especially in the winter.  


I don't know when my next trip to Hong Kong may take place.  It may be next year, it may be the year after.  Or not.  Who knows.  The thing is, I shall remember to never live for tomorrow.  If I focus on what I may do or where I may go next year, I am likely missing out the present.  


Thanksgiving fast approaches.  It is one of the most significant and celebrated holidays in this country.  Eric and I tend to give thanks when we are grateful, not always on a mandated calendar date.  So the last Thursday of November is never a day I need to "get ready" for unless I decided to host a big party and serve a turkey. This year, I have decided to also host a dinner party on this pre-established holiday, but my guests will enjoy a breakfast spread for dinner instead of the typical 15-pounder from the farm.  Tradition and conformity has its place, but not necessarily at my dinner table. 


There are numerous things for which I am grateful and thankful.  Above all else, the mere fact that I am alive is enough to celebrate with yet another homemade buttermilk pancake and a side of Thunder Hooves bacon this Thursday.  

Hong Kong: Chapter 7 - "Grande Finale"

All meals were enjoyed with great enthusiasm and gastronomic satisfaction.  30 days went by quickly and happily.  

Much as I loathe Facebook for being so much of the Big Brother, I secretly kissed it for making it so easy to reconnect with my old friends.  I'm talking about friends I have known for 20, 30, or even 40+ years.  I hear this statement a lot - "the more we change, the more we stay the same."  What do you think it means?  

Old friends found.  New friends made.  Great conversations.  Lovely family times. Priceless experience.  

The Grande Adventure #3 enjoyed its grande finale in Hong Kong.  I love you, mom and dad! 

My new friend Siu Fa "Little Flower",
a silver Tabby, insisted that I
pet her head while I visited with
my friend Terry.

I have known Terry (next to me), now a pediatrician, 
since we were toddlers.  Her parents, seated alternately next to mine,
have been friends with my parents for over half a decade.
Our parents met and played in an orchestra.
The two siblings sitting next to my mom are another
set of childhood friends.

Childhood friends are precious and priceless.  You never get tired of telling old stories over and over, and they are still funny.  There is no need to be pretentious as we have known each other our whole lives.  Six parents, ten children.  Camping and fishing every summer at my dad's school in some timbuktu remote fishing island. Those days were so simple and innocent.  

Terry's brother, who is the same age
as my second brother and one of the
smartest in the group, is now a 
very successful physician.  He was also 
one of the brains behind all mischief... 

Terry's mom, whom my siblings and I have always
addressed as "Auntie Chu", called me
Tapioca, or "Sai Mai", when I was little.

My lovely niece made us delightful
steamed custard for dessert.

Looked professional and tasted delicious!  

I wished there were extra so I could have two...

Terry's flat on the 28th floor has a magnificent view that overlooks the Shatin race course and miles of blinking lights.  The breeze was nice and crisp when I visited, but I could image what the wind might sound like during a storm!  

Debbie carefully measuring the liquid ingredients

Beautifully braided raisin bread!

Back at the ranch, I was showing my sister Debbie how to braid bread.  

You would likely get gross out if I tell you
what's in the boxes... Let me give
you a clue:  they are cold blooded
and they slither around with a forked tongue.
Yup, that's what I thought.  You just went
"eeeewwwwwwww..."

Snake soup is complex and time consuming to make, but has extremely high protein and nutritional value.  It has been used for centuries in Chinese medicine to cure muscles and joint ailments.  The more poisonous the snakes, the better.  Obviously, you do not use any venom and you wouldn't want to get any in you... 

The stock is made with an old chicken (more flavor) and snake carcasses, simmer for hours.  Similar to making turkey stock after Thanksgiving.  Chicken and snakes are deboned carefully, then the meats are shredded.  Snake bones are extremely hard and indigestible, thus extreme caution is required when deboning.  The meats are then added back to the stock to finish up with other ingredients such as wood ears and (I believe) Chinese mushrooms.

For god's sake!
Stop your eeewww-ing already!

Proper way to enjoy snake soup is with finely shredded lemon leaves (left), sometimes white chrysanthemum pedals (absent), and a very specific kind of crunchies (right).  


Note the long snake meat on the left, in the middle of the bowl.  




NOW, you may eeeewwwwww. 

Dad "McGyver" is a "snake king".  He and mom had hosted snake soup feasts many times.  And yes, dad also knows how to catch them if he must.  My fond memory included a party where they invited about 20 of my mom's coworkers to our house. Each rolled up the sleeves and helped with the preparation.  No doubt, each had to take a course on "how to carefully debone snakes and chickens", taught by my dad. You do not want to swallow a piece of snake bone by mistake.  

I did not pick up any of these skills from my dad, no.  I will just stick with the much tamer bread baking, thank you.  Survival skills are not part of my strongest suit, unfortunately.

Jane and Iris, the sisters whom I have known since my 20's, are as gorgeous as ever. How did our husbands get so lucky? 

Who would have guessed
I am a kids magnet...  Seriously.  

I love ducks. I love eating them even more.  Especially roast ducks, Chinese style, wrapped in a tiny bun or a wrap with a little bit of sauce and crunchy cucumber.  It would make it to my Top Ten. 

I could not think of a better time to have one of my favorite dishes at one of my favorite gatherings - with my beloved family!  

Arriving at the airport way early to beat
the crowd.  I heart flying on Cathay Pacific. 

The grande adventure has quickly come to an end in Hong Kong.  I am returning to the States via San Francisco to visit some old friends for several days.  

Mom and dad still looking great, again.

A friend said I look like a celebrity
on my way to a world tour,
waving good-byes to my fans...

Still waving good-byes to my fans...

And again...

Plane taking off from the runway
Bye-bye, Hong Kong!

Finally.  Daisy has left the building...