Dog Day Afternoons

It was a beautiful weekend here in Missouri and everyone was outside doing yard work, playing in parks, fishing on the Gasconade, or just enjoying the weather with a hike through the woods.

While Matt and I awaited the arrival of our new lawnmower in the mail - via the UPS man - we decided that yard-work would have to be put off for a few days. So, in lieu of staying in our own backyard, we decided to explore a bit this weekend.

Accompanying us on our travels through the Missouri countryside was our trusty new dog, Sabrina, who was excited to get out into the woods and sniff away at the fresh air and underbrush of the hills - where I'm sure she smelled some feral hogs, as they are known to roam the eastern boundaries of Ft. Leonard Wood.

We decided to make our way to Miller Cave, one of five major cave systems in the Ft. Leonard Wood cantonment area.  A prehistoric site, the Miller Cave complex has provided archaeological evidence that shows the site being used as "a permanent base camp, burial ground and loci for Native American tribes in the region between 7000 B.C. and 1400 A.D."

Nestled 150 feet above the Big Piney River in a sheer cliff-face, overlooking the Big Piney River Valley, the Miller Cave Complex is not only an important archaeological site, but a geological gemstone as well.

Geographically speaking, Miller Cave is located in the Salem Plateau (northern Ozark Highland) of the Missouri Ozarks. The geological components of the rock and earth in the region showcase ordovician-age dolomites and sandstones - remnants of an ancient sea which once covered this area. Through the course of millions of years (the plaque specifically said "200 million") ground water has "uplifted, incised and dissolved [these rocks]....forming steep-sided bluffs and numerous caves and rock shelters." Through this process it has left the countryside marked with caves, springs and underground caverns that are truly wonders to behold.

However, aside from its beauty, there is a sense of reverence one has when walking through the complex. If the walls of such a place could talk, they would undoubtedly speak of music, laughter, love, sorrow, life and death. The cave has seen men come and go through the millennia, and while those men altered their ways of life in the world outside, they never changed the cave which provided them a haven, leaving behind their history for us to remember.

References:
Miller Cave - FLW
Plaques on premise

New Addition

Spring is officially here! Temperatures have been in the 70's for the past week, and the kids on spring break  have been enjoying the nice weather. But it wouldn't be the dawn of spring if there weren't some rain showers and storms, and we've definitely had a few, to include a substantial hail storm the other day.

As the saying goes, March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb.  With the recent blue skies, the birds returning, and the flowers in bloom, it seems as if this year that's particularly true.

Along with the changing season, our family changed this month as well.  After four weeks of volunteering at the animal shelter, and a couple of long discussions about where we may want to venture on our next assignment, Matt and I made the decision to finally adopt a dog. Her name is Sabrina, and she's - if I do say so myself - the best!

I met Sabrina on the first day of my volunteer work at Loving Paws, and have been returning every Wednesday and Thursday to find her still in her kennel - nobody having shown any interest in wanting to adopt her.

Sabrina is a Catahoula Cur, which is considered to be the second oldest American breed of dogs, next to early Native American-created breeds.  It is the state dog of Louisiana, and is also referred to as a Catahoula Leopard or Catahoula Hog Dog - the first for its speckled coat, the second for its ability to track and hunt wild boar particularly well.

Catahoula's have always been bred more for their temperament and working abilities versus their look. As such, their appearances may vary in color and coat texture, ranging anywhere from red to blue to black to gray, with coarse, slick or wooly coats.  Sabrina is a black leopard Catahoula, with a coarse coat. In short, she looks a bit like a hyena - which I think is why most people just weren't interested in her at the animal shelter.

If you were to just judge a dog by its look, Sabrina looks nothing like the retriever with blonde hair in the stall next door.  She's a quiet sweetheart, who is loyal and loving, and who completely won over both Matt's and my heart. So, without further ado, I would like to introduce you all to the newest member of the family: Sabrina Mae.  Our little March lamb...

The Shelf Life of Squash: A Study in Self-Health

I had simple plans for Sunday dinner:  Spaghetti Squash with Marinara Sauce.  Little did I know that the sprites of the gourd-world were out to foil my attempts last night, forcing my hand to use the whole-wheat pasta on stand-by in our pantry.

I love spaghetti squash.  It's easy to cook and - as far as I'm concerned - as satisfying as a big bowl of regular pasta. But, after a month of sitting and waiting to be eaten (the typical shelf-life is 3 months), the squash had become overly ripe and started developing spots; signs your gourd has gone bad.

When Matt and I were really into Paleo we probably ate the dish - with varying sauces and toppings - once a week.  We've since adopted a more Zone approach to our eating style, but primal-style eating is still very much an aspect of our lives, and squash - of all shapes and sizes - are great go-tos in making previously heavy/processed meals, clean and healthy.

Now, I'm not here to harp about any certain type of diet. In fact, I believe that saying you're on a diet is silly and usually leads to a lot of stress, unhappiness in results, and the end-state being a person reverting back to previous eating habits.  But I do want to take a brief moment and just say - as a segue from my squash problem - that changing the way you view eating and how it makes you feel can change your life for the better.

Don't get me wrong, I love a good ice-cream cone or a big bowl of pasta with marinara sauce every now and then; but I also love the way I feel when I don't eat a lot of hidden sugars, starches and bad fats. After reverting to a paleo-centric diet for a couple of months, the hubby and I found that a lot of physiological responses we as humans often suffer from, day-in and day-out (most notably: gas and indigestion), were things we started referring to in the past tense.  Eating clean (lots of vegetables, proteins, fruits and nuts) makes you feel good, and feeling good about yourself is 90% of the battle in getting to the point of where you want to be physically, mentally, and emotionally.  As always this should be coupled with an exercise regiment suitable for each person, and a time for individual, spiritual fitness.

Additionally, the things a lot of us eat in today's society are leading to higher rates of Type II Diabetes, which - according to some studies - may be a cause of Alzheimers.  In-the-least, diabetes has been linked by the Mayo Clinic to Mild Cognitive Impairment (MCI). I say this, not to scare or frighten anyone, but to make everyone aware that what we eat can affect us at a cellular and neurological level, and in doing so can thereby affect our emotional, physical and spiritual states of mind.

Now, when I had to change my meal-plan last night and opt for the whole-wheat pasta I'd been storing in my cabinet, over the too-ripe squash, I wasn't overcome by warning signs of going down a long road to disease and cellular-inflammation; I know that 80% of the time I eat right, and everything is fine in moderation - it's just a matter of truly recognizing what moderation is. A sugar cookie or Reese's cup a day is not moderation, but one slice of pie every couple of weeks is.  Once a month...even better!

So, here's to eating - here's to health - and here's to life! All three go hand-in-hand, and all three should be practiced with great zeal, great love and great care.

**Another great blog with a similar article on Alzheimers, a potential Type III Diabetes, can be found at: The Prime Pursuit**

Back on Track

It's been over a week since my last post, and while I had hoped to get in one last blog before I left town this past weekend - time got the best of me and kept me from my goal.  But I'm back, and ready to catch up for lost blogs!

Last Wednesday, on my weekly trek to hotspots and hidden treasures here in the Ozarks, I made my way to the Eastern-most town in Pulaski County, Dixon.

Much like Crocker, Dixon was born from the railroad boom in the late 19th century, and has seen its ups and downs with the successes and failures of the industry.  Originally the town was nothing more than just a patch of land "[on] top of a rolling Ozark foothill." But in 1867 the Frisco railroad decided it would be a good place to cut through the Ozarks as it came East from Rolla, continued West through Crocker, onto Springfield, and into parts of Kansas, Oklahoma and Texas.

It took the better part of two years and 100 workers to successfully lay the track, and once completed most of the men decided to stay in the area; comfortable with the easy way of life in the foothills and the convenience of the railroad running through the town.

Plotted and laid out on both sides (North and South) of the tracks by a Frisco surveyor named Milton Santee, he proposed naming the new town Dixon - after his hometown in Illinois, which had been named for a local interpreter and counselor to the U.S. Army during negotiations with the Winnebago Indians in the early 19th century.  The name stuck, and in 1869 Dixon was established.

As an aside, Milt's humble-ness to not name the town after himself was paid back later in life when - after his long surveying career had brought him to California - he met and married a girl in Cowlestown, California.

In 1887 George Cowles, landowner and ranching pioneer, died and left behind his widow, Jennie Blodgett.  The local postmistress, Jennie was seen as a matriarch of the small, southern California town which her husband had helped found. As such, following her marriage to Milton Santee in 1890 she received permission from the community to operate the post-office under her new husband's name, and three years later the town decided to follow-suit.  In 1893 Cowlestown was officially renamed Santee, and today the community is a bustling suburb of San Diego, located 18 miles from the Pacific Coast.

It's amazing how inextricably we are all linked to one another through people and places in time.  Although the story of Dixon is not an overwhelmingly remarkable one, the brief story of Milton Santee is. Through a series of disjointed searches I found a link between three very different cities: Dixon, IL - Dixon, MO - Santee, CA.

It makes you wonder - in this patchwork world in which we live - if we are the thread, to whom do we tie ourselves to, to what end will we be remembered, and will our bonds last forever...or fray through the wearing of time?

Frisco - Missouri Lines and Stops
History of Dixon, MO
History of Dixon, IL
History of Santee, CA