From Whence the Steaks Came

Oldest daughter wants me to post a photo of her with the moose.

 

She’s been shocking her Vancouver friends with photos of cutting it up. She thought they’d be interested to see how it’s done, but at least one was offended by such a murderous act. Another vegetarian feminist, I suspect.

Moose Meat and More

The city girl (aka oldest daughter) helped friends cut up a moose today. She has a pair of $300.oo jeans stained with moose blood soaking in the basement.* I guess that goes to show that you can take the girl out of the city, but city-brain is a little more difficult to remove.

 

She was rewarded for her help with (what else?) moose meat, so tomorrow for supper we’re having moose steaks, barbecued. If you’ve never had moose meat, you don’t know what you’re missing.

 

This afternoon I finished cleaning all the wild cranberries I picked, so perhaps I’ll make cranberry muffins. And we could have potatoes from the garden and maybe coleslaw made from garden cabbage and carrots. Then we’d have entirely Yukon meal. 

 

It’s been strangely warm here, warmer overnight for the last couple of days than it was all summer long. We should eat our grilled moose steaks at the picnic table on the deck in the sun, I’d say.

 

*Well, they would have been $300.00 if  she hadn’t bought them at a consignment store.

At Least She Eats Her Vegetables

This was youngest son’s first day of college. He’s going to the local one and I’m glad for that. He’s only 17 1/2, and I don’t think he’s really ready fly off to school outside and only come home at Christmas.

 

He had just one class today and he’s already made up his mind that he’s going to drop it. His explanation for why he can’t take that class? The teacher, he says, is a “vegetarian feminist.”

 

Okay. 

 

I’m taking bets on whether he’ll make it through college or not.