I"m putting up this interesting Out Our Way cartoon from this day in 1946 as it refers to something we've discussed here before, and its a bit surprising.
What we've discussed here before is hunting during World War Two.
I've always thought this was one of the more interesting threads on this blog, and it's one of the many ones I post and wonder why there's never any comments on it. But that's common for blogs. Usually, they don't get posts.
Anyhow, this cartoon by J. R. Williams sort of confirms what I'd suspected. Some people supplemented their table fare during the war by hunting.
Williams was, as we've discussed before, a Canadian cartoonist who moved to the U.S. with his family at age 15, locating in Detroit. He soon dropped out of school and became an apprentice machinist, providing topics for his cartoons which frequently depicted machine shops. He drifted after that, something not uncommon in that era, and worked as a cowboy in the West, as well as serving a three year stint on the U.S. Army as a cavalryman. All of that experience likewise reflected itself in his cartoons. Family life, in spite of his being a bit short (again, not all that uncommon for the time) also featured frequently.
He became a professional cartoonist in 1922 and remained one until his death in 1957 at age 69. He'd used the proceeds of his cartoons to buy a ranch in Arizona, before relocating later on to Pasadena, California. His cartoons carried on to some extent after his death in the hands of other artists.
Anyhow, one of the things about his cartoons is that depict fairly accurate slices of life, and this running gag from 1945-46 no doubt did. The father has taken an elk and a deer, and the family is keeping it in the ice box. The part that surprises me is that I really like venison, and these cartoons suggest that this venison was bad, which may be explained in an earlier cartoon I'm not familiar with.
Eighteen nations entered into an Agreement on Reparation from Germany.
Rockwell's World War Two era illustration of one of Roosevelt's Four Freedoms, this one being Freedom from want. This came from a March 6, 1943 Saturday Evening Post illustration although it was completed in November, 1943. Rockwell was inspired by a Thanksgiving dinner in which he photographed his cook serving the same in November, 1942. The painting has come to symbolize Thanksgiving dinners. Interesting, compared to the vast fare that is typically associated with the feast, this table is actually fairly spartan.
This is a really good article on grocery shopping.
I'm going to take this in a slightly different direction, but this blog post is, I'll note, really good.
And I love the kitties featured in the article.
Anyhow, it ought to be obvious to anyone living in the US right now that groceries, that odd word discovered by Donald Trump in his dotage, are pretty expensive. Less obvious, it seems, is why that is true. Again, not to overly politicize it, but the common Trump Interregnum explanations are largely complete crap. It's not the case, as seemingly suggested, that Joe Biden runs around raising prices in a wicked plan to destroy the American lifestyle for "hard working Americans". Rather, a bunch of things have contributed to that.
To start with, the COVID 19 pandemic really screwed up the economy, and we're still living with the impact of that. One of the impacts of that is that certain supply chains somewhat broke and have never been repaired. Added to that, global climatic conditions are impacting crops in what is now a global food distribution system. Weather has additionally impacted meat prices by impacting the Beef Cattle Heard in the last decade, which has been followed up upon by the visitation of cattle diseases, and poultry diseases, that have reduced head counts. That definitely impacts prices. The Administration, however, believing that the country exists in the economic 1820s, rather than the 2020s, fiddles with inflation causing tariffs on a weekly basis, which raises prices on everything. And finally the ineptly waged Russian war against Ukraine has impacted grain supplies world wide. It reminds me of, well. . . :
Then I watched while the Lamb broke open the first of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures cry out in a voice like thunder, “Come forward.”
I looked, and there was a white horse, and its rider had a bow. He was given a crown, and he rode forth victorious to further his victories.
When he broke open the second seal, I heard the second living creature cry out, “Come forward.”
Another horse came out, a red one. Its rider was given power to take peace away from the earth, so that people would slaughter one another. And he was given a huge sword.
When he broke open the third seal, I heard the third living creature cry out, “Come forward.” I looked, and there was a black horse, and its rider held a scale in his hand.
I heard what seemed to be a voice in the midst of the four living creatures. It said, “A ration of wheat costs a day’s pay, and three rations of barley cost a day’s pay. But do not damage the olive oil or the wine.”
When he broke open the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature cry out, “Come forward.”
I looked, and there was a pale green horse. Its rider was named Death, and Hades accompanied him. They were given authority over a quarter of the earth, to kill with sword, famine, and plague, and by means of the beasts of the earth.
Not that dire, of course. . .
Anyhow, this reminded me of an agrarian topic. How can you, dear agrarian reader, reduce your grocery bill?
Well, do it yourself, of course.
What do I mean?
Well, grow it and kill it yourself.
Assuming, of course, you can. But most people can.
Now, let me be the first to admit that this is more than a little hypocritical on my part now days. The pressures of work and life caused me to give up my very extensive garden some years ago. I'd frankly cash in my chips and retire life now, but my spouse insists that this cannot be so. So, in my rapidly increasing dotage, I'm working as hard as ever at my town job.
Anyhow, however, let's consider this. Many people have the means of putting in a garden, and many have the means to take at least part of their meat consumption in by fishing and hunting. Beyond that, if you have freezer space, or even if a friend has freezer space, you can buy much, maybe all depending upon where you live, of your meat locally sourced.
Given as this is Thanksgiving, let's take a look at how that would look.
I'll start off with first noting that there's actually more variety in Thanksgiving meals than supposed, as well as less. This time of year in fact, you'll tend to find all sort of weird articles by various people eschewing the traditional turkey dinner in favor of something else, mostly just in an effort to be self serving different. And then you have the weirdness of something like this:
I suppose that's an effort by our Vice President to be amusing, something he genuinely is not, but frankly, I do like turkey. I like it a lot. A lot of people do. Vance, of course, lives in a house where his wife is a vegetarian for religious reasons, so turkey may not appear there.
Anyhow, what is the traditional Thanksgiving meal? Most of us have to look back on our own families in order to really determine that.
When I was growing up, we always had Thanksgiving Dinner at one of my uncle's houses. My father and his only brother were very close, and we went there for Thanksgiving, and they came to our house for Christmas evening dinner. Both dinners were evening dinners. We probably went over to my aunt and uncle's house about 4:00 p.m. and came home after 9:00 p.m., but I'll also note that this is now a long time ago and my memory may be off. This tradition lasted until the year after my father passed away, but even at that, that's now over 30 years ago.
Dinner at my aunt and uncles generally went like this.
Before dinner it was likely that football was turned on the television, which is a big unfortunate American tradition. My father and uncle would likely have a couple of beers. My father hardly drank at all, so this was relatively unusual. My mother would generally not drink beer and interestingly it was largely a male drink.1 I don't think I saw women really drink beer until I was in college.2 Anyhow, at dinner there's be some sort of white wine, although I can barely recall it. Nobody in the family was a wine connoisseur, so there's no way I could remotely give an indication on what it was, except that one of my cousins, when he was old enough to drink, really liked Asti Spumante, which I bet I haven't had in over a decade.3 Dinner itself would be a large roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, bread, salad, and a marshmallow yam dish. Dinner rolls would also be present.
Desert was pumpkin pie.
Pretty common fare, and frankly, very good fare, for Thanksgiving.
After my father died, Thanksgiving dinner was briefly up to me for a time, as my mother was too ill by that stage in her life to deal with cooking much.4 In light of tradition, I'd probably cook a smaller turkey, although if I had wild waterfowl I'd shot, I'd go with that. Otherwise, mashed potatoes and yams. To drink, for me, probably beer.
After I started dating my wife, Thanksgiving was at her folk's place. My mother in law is an excellent cook, and my wife is as well. Unlike J. D. Vance, I'm not afflicted with vegetarian relatives, and indeed, as my wife is from a ranch family, all dinners very much show that.
On the ranch, Thanksgiving is a noon meal. So is Christmas dinner. Noon meals are generally odd for me, as I don't usually eat lunch, but that reflects a pretty strong agricultural tradition. Big meals are often at noon. Meals associated with big events, such as brandings, always are. So it makes sense.
Thanksgiving there shares a common feature with the ones that were at my aunts and uncles, in that usually somebody offers everyone a drink before dinner, while people are chatting. Unlike my aunts and uncles, however, somebody will usually offer people some sort of whiskey.
Their Thanksgiving Dinner has a very broad fare. There's a large roasted turkey, but there's also a brisket. Both are excellent and everyone has some of both. There's salad, mashed potatoes and two different types of stuffing, as some of us likey oyster stuffing, and others do not. Cranberry sauce is handmade by one of my brothers in law, who is an excellent cook. There are other dishes as well, and there's a variety of desserts. Homemade dinner rolls are served as well.
So, that leads to this. If I were cooking a Thanksgiving Day dinner, what would it be.
It's be simple compared to what I've noted for the simple reason that I'm simplistic in my approach to dinner in general. I had a long period as a bachelor before being married, and I know how to cook, but my cooking reflects that bachelorhood in some ways.
The main entre would be a turkey, or perhaps a goose, which I'll explain below.
Two types of stuffing, for the reasons explained above.
Salad.
Mashed potatoes (but with no gravy, for reasons I'll explain below).
Bread.
Yams.
Pumpkin pie and mincemeat pie.
To drink, I'd probably have beer and some sort of wine. I'd have whiskey available before dinner.
Okay, if that doesn't meet the Walmart definition of a Thanksgiving dinner, that's because nobody should buy things at Walmart. . . ever.
So, in applying my localist/killetarian suggestions, how much of this could I acquire while avoiding a store entirely?
Almost all of it.
Starting with the meat, I always hunt turkeys each year, but I don't always get one. If I was going to cook Thanksgiving dinner, however, I'd put a more dedicated effort into it. Turkey hunting for me is sort of opportunistic, and given that I do it in the spring its mostly a chance to try to get a turkey while getting out, usually with the dog (although poor dog died in an automobile accident earlier this year, he only every got to go out for turkeys). If I put in more hours, which I should, I'd get one.
If I can't get one, however, by this time of year I definitely can get a goose.
Which, by way of a diversion, brings up J. D. Vance's stupid ass comment above. If your turkey is dry, that's because you cooked it wrong. And if wild turkey is dry, that's because the cook tried to cook it like some massive obese Butterball.
Tastewise and texture wise, there's no difference whatsoever between a wild and domestic turkey. People who say there are say that because one of them, if not both of them, were cooked incorrectly.
Which is true of goose as well. Goose tastes very much like roast beef, unless the cook was afraid of the goose and cooked it like it was something else and ruined it.
Anyhow. . . I can provide the bird myself
So too with the vegetables, mostly. When I grew a garden, I produced lettuce onions and potatoes. One year I grew brussels sprouts. Of these, only the lettuce either doesn't keep on its own or can't be frozen in some fashion. I could grow yams, I'm quite confident, even though I never did.
Now, on bread, I can bake my own bread and have, but I can't source the ingredients. So those I'd have to buy. I could likely figure out how to make my own stuffing, but I probably wouldn't bother to do so, unless I wanted to have oyster stuffing. I would have to buy the oysters.
I'll note here that I wouldn't make gravy, as I really don't like it. My mother in laws gravy is the only gravy that I like. Otherwise, there's no excuse for gravy. I put butter on mashed potatoes, and I always have.
But I buy the butter.
I'd have to buy marshmallows for the yams too.
That leaves something to drink. I know that some people will distill their own whiskey as a hobby, but I'm not about to try that, and I"ve never brewed beer. If I ever lived solely on what I produce myself, mostly, I'd take it up. I clearly don't have the time to do that now.
Dessert?
I'm fairly good at making pies. I like pumpkin pie, but I've never grown pumpkins. I could give that a shot, but I'd still have to buy most of the constituents. My grandmother (father's mother) used to make mincemeat pies, but I've never attempted that. The real ingredients for mincemeat pies freak people out, I"d note, those being, according to one granola website I hit and may link in, the following:
Which brings up a lot of stuff I'd have to buy. Everything but for the beef, as I too have beef from grass fed cows that I knew personally.
All in all, pretty doable.
Cheaper?
Well, if you are an efficient agrarian/killetarian, yes.
Footnotes:
1. My father normally only bought beer during the middle of the summer, and sometimes to take on a fishing expedition if somebody was going along. Otherwise, it just didn't appear in your house. The only whiskey ever bought was Canadian Whiskey, and a bottle of it would last forever. We often didn't have it at all. . . indeed, normally we did not. He only bought it when I was very young, if we were having guests.
This is interesting as in this era offering a drink to guests was very common. A different aunt and uncle liked Scotch and would offer it to guests, but my father hated Scotch.
When I was young, my parents would occasionally buy wine, but it was almost always Mogan David. Clearly were were not wine connoisseurs.
2. This probably seems odd, but it's true. I saw women drink beer so rarely that it was a shock when I was a kid to see a woman drinking a beer. They just normally didn't.
Indeed, by the time I was a teenager a girl drinking a beer sort of made her a "bad girl", but not in the Good Girls Don't sense. Rather, that was in the rowdy party girl sense. Or so we thought. We knew this, but we really didn't know any beer drinking girls as teenagers.
In college things were different, but the reputation that college students have for partying didn't really match the reality, at least for geology students. As an undergraduate in community college we might very occasionally go out for a beer, and that was almost always the collection of us who had graduated from high school together when everyone was home. For part of the last year of community college I had a girlfriend and I can remember being in a bar with her exactly once, when she was trying to introduce another National Guardsman to her sister. Otherwise, that relationship was unconsciously completely dry.
At UW as an undergrad most of my friends were geology students, like me, and the discipline was so hard there really wasn't any partying. Sometimes a group of guys would go out for a beer, but that was about it. Early on I recall there being a party of geology students who had all gone to community college together in the freezing apartment that one of us had. There were some beers, but generally, we just froze. A girlfriend who was also in the department and I went to a Christmas party the year I graduated, which was a big department affair and there was beer there, but that's about it.
In law school the story wasn't much different, frankly. Indeed, it wasn't until I got out of law school, and started practicing law, that I encountered people who really drank heavily.
3. To be honest, as a person always should be, when my mother's illness began to advance dramatically, she began to drink heavily. It was a problem that my father and I had to deal with. The oddity of it was that she had never done that when she was well.
As an added element of that, when she was well she took a wine making class. The wine she made was absolutely awful and she was the only one who would drink it, but because it was so bad, she'd fortify it with vodka to make it tolerable. That acclimated her to drinking. She gave it up completely as she began to recover just before my father died.
4. While she recovered a great deal, she never fully recovered. She was also an absolutely awful cook. As my father's health declined in the last year of his life, I took over cooking from him.
I've split both worlds, of course, for decades, although more by fate than choice. Anyhow, one thing that's always amazed me is, to some degree, agriculturalist don't make full use of their own land.
I'm much more familiar with ranching than farming, so I'll start there. Almost every rancher I know eats their own beef. We eat our own beef. For this reason, beef prices at the grocery store are always a bit of a mystery to me.
If you know somebody who raises pigs, and occasionally we do, we get one from them. Again, that means we're paying below grocery store prices.
Okay, all this is common.
But what absolutely amazes me is that lots of farmers and ranchers don't take advantage of what's right before them.
I used to put in a huge garden every year. I don't anymore, as my town job took control of my life and I lost the time to do it. I hope to take it back up if I ever get to retire. I can't see a good reason that almost every farm and ranch doesn't have a garden. Yes, it takes time, but not that much time if you are right there. It'd cut food bills, as they're mostly getting their produce from the grocery store, and fresh produce is always better.
I also don't understand why farmers and ranchers don't hunt, and fish, more. I know that "time" will be the argument, but I've been around agriculture my whole life and farmers and ranchers have more time than city people do. They simply do. Their time commitments tend to be seasonal, and intense, but they have the time.
At various times in my pre married life, I used to live on wild game. And I know for a fact that prior to the 1980s, a lot of ranchers either did the same, or supplemented their meat supply that way. One student I knew when I was in US as an undergrad was an older (in his 30s) student, and had grown up on a ranch were they lived on wild game. Frankly, they poached it. I don't advocate poaching, but I also know more than one ranch family that poached pretty routinely into the 1970s.
Here, farmers and ranchers can get landowners licenses and I just don't see why they don't. And even if they don't, they usually have time after the fall to hunt and could on a regular license.. Indeed, as noted, they have more time than people in town do. Outdoors writer John Barsness once noted in one of his columns that when he was a boy, he had a ranching uncle that became a full time elk hunter after shipping.
As noted, I just don't get it.
Shoot, it was my dream, which I will not succeed at.
If I'd had my way, I would have lived full time in the sticks as a rancher, I'd have gardened in the war months, and hunted in the fall. If I'd broke even, that would have been fine with me.
Frankly, for Wyomingites in general, and more specifically for the users of public lands (hunters, fishermen, outdoor recreationist, ranchers), this ought to be it in regard to political support.
If anyone of our three Congressional reps vote for this, they shouldn't receive our votes after this.
This blog has a completely different theme, rather obviously. So what I'd normally do is post some personal and more universal items. I'll just do both here, in the worried sort of way both of the above posts are.
This blog is heavily invested in the concept of Aldo Leopold's Land Ethic, which is:
The land ethic simply enlarges the boundaries of the community to include soils, waters, plants, and animals, or collectively: the land... In short, a land ethic changes the role of Homo sapiens from conqueror of the land-community to plain member and citizen of it. It implies respect for his fellow-members, and also respect for the community as such.
Aldo Leopold.
We also have a very holistic view of things, in the true meaning of the word. That is, everything is connected. And we also, as people here know, have a very Agrarian, Wendell Berry, view of the world. We are part of nature and we need to acknowledge that, and be true to our natures.
We haven't been acting like that for quite some time. And both the political left, and the political right, are guilty of that.
The populist right, of course, just came into power. And much of its political ethos is based on ignorance combined with the love of money. At no point in American history since 1860, when the Southern wealthy lead the Southern yeoman into a fight to preserve something that benefited the rich, and not the poor, has one class so fogged the intellect of another such that those who stand most to be hurt by developments are fully backing them.
Nearly everything those who love the outdoors, use the outdoors, or depend on the outdoors will be under full out assault in the next four years.
Sportsmen, agrarians, conservationist, farmers, ranchers and environmentalist will have to be very much on guard the next four years. Sadly, many in some of these categories vote for the very forces that stand to hurt, or even destroy them.
Oh, sure, there were snowplows that went out on the narrow two lane highways, but off the highways? Well, you better be pretty sure you could get back.
Now, my father only ever owned one 4x4 vehicle, and it was one he bought from me. But we didn't go up in the high country or into the foothills once winter started. That was out. You stuck to areas that were relatively near a county road or that were blown off, and probably down around 5,500 feet or less. Beyond that? Forget it.
And this was true for ranchers too. Some men stayed up in the high country, but they stayed there. . . all winter long. People often fed by horse drawn wagon (and in a few places, still do).
The Dodge Power Wagon changed that. And it was a creature of the Second World War.
The father of the Dodge Power Wagon, the 1/2 ton truck, a fair number of examples of which can be found in the Rocky Mountain West in spite of the small number produced, was in addition to being too light, too top heavy.
With the Power Wagon, you could now get there in winter. Maybe not everywhere, but darned near everywhere, even up in the high country.
And that meant you didn't need to keep hired men up in the high country in line shacks all winter. For that matter, with a trailer, you could easily feed in a fraction of the time it had taken with a wagon. You probably didn't need hired men for that either, if you had them.
And while it would take awhile, really when NAPCO started converting Fords and Chevys into heavy duty 4x4s, it would also mean that sportsmen could get back there in the winter too.
Indeed, if I had power for some thirty years I would see to it that people should be allowed to follow their inbred instincts in these matters, and should hunt, drink, sing, dance, sail, and dig, and those that would not should be compelled by force.
And that statement was true once again for 2022, but for different reasons, a lot of which had nothing much to do with the hunting season itself.
That's because 2022 has been the year of the field of Medicine, or age, or perhaps lifestyle, or whatever, catching up with me.
Well, I'm beginning to sound like a broken record on that, as it was once again quite true.
On big game, I didn't draw anything. So, no antelope tag again.
Indeed, sometime in the fall, in one of the blogs linked in here, an out-of-state hunter posted about the great time he'd had in Wyoming antelope hunting and I nearly posted a crabby linked in post regarding that. If out of staters are getting tags, in staters should be.
I didn't want to insult that person, so I didn't make that post, but I'm still not very happy about it.
I had general deer and elk tags, and I did go out for deer, but no luck. For deer, I did have a very pleasant early winter hunt, if that's what we call this frighteningly warm mid-year season this year, but the only white tails, and that's what it was limited to, that we saw were on private land where I didn't have permission. So, no deer.
Bird wise, the season was good for the most part. Blue Grouse, which are illusive in my experience (a Game Warden who checked me didn't seem to think so) did make an appearance this year, so we did okay, but not great.
Doves were abundant, but I mostly missed shooting at them, which was sort of the story of the year in a lot of ways. I did get a Mongolian Collared Dove for the first time, so was able to appreciate how much larger they are than Mourning Doves.
Sage chickens were also plentiful this year.
Chukars and Huns, which are in my experience very hard to hit, were abundant, but I didn't do well with them as I missed them more than I hit them. I did get in a lot of late season chukar hunting close to town for the first time.
Waterfowl, which we hunted more than anything else, was very abundant.
So, not a self-reliance banner year. . . or was it?
