Sunday, June 6, 2010

Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? I had the flu for a month and lots of things to do. The people who work for me have planted 200 pounds of turnip seed for the elk and deer, have done ALL KINDS of soil preparation. Bringing a foot of new soil from a mile a way from my hayfield to put on the sides of the driveway (a city block long) and planting it with bulbs. Red flowers all the way down the driveway is what we are doing here. Pictures when we succeed.

The famous web site is really going up this coming week. It would have been up already. My flu prevented me from dictating the words that you hear when you first come on the site. A sample of my voice is necessary because another company pretends to be Idaho Elk and had THREE Emilys, one for each shift, pretending to be me. Technology allows your phone to be controlled by another phone! No help for it!
Would be mighty nice of you to go check out the NEW web site,, and spend some time there. The Google apparently pays attention to how long a visit is, to rate the site.

A newsletter is about to fly out to clients whose addresses are up to date. So, if I don't have yours, call me!

TURKEY the Sparrow established a world's record, officially, for longevity the first week of May. Turkey was 7 years old! Cornell University follows him. Sparrows live to be 'two breeding seasons,' which is 18 months to 2 years. Briefly, he had a bluebird girlfriend: She badly injured her wings getting caught in some chicken wire of the peafowl pen that is designed to keep the peababies in. But don't worry: By the time she flew free, Turkey had tired of sharing his mansion with her. I think his adoration is what got her wings functional: Her body language changed immediately as she flew into the door of his home! Turkey has been enamored of the bluebird ladies for some years. He finally got to have one of his own, and got it out of his system.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

The web site is abirthing! Next week, probably.

Newletter with calendars went out bulk snailmail. People who call have received theirs in only two days, compared to two weeks or more when we paid $2.50 postage instead of 47 cents! It took us from November until end of March to get the local inbred post office to let Idaho Elk have a bulk mail account. Gee, we called Washington and the State capital, and the postmistress herself (someone 'not born in these parts') to personally do the process with us; and two people were fired some way or another. OK? That is why you are receiving calendars in March/April.

Go to, then go to my Expert Page by typing in Emily Erickson-Sandstrom for the name, Idaho for the location and Tarot for the subject. On my Expert Page is a list of all the articles, about 50 of them. Some of them you will enjoy reading, I'll bet. There's a variety. Comment on them (Sign in first!) and rate them, even email them to friends.

Until then!


Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Web site coming soon. News

You will be getting a nice long snail mail letter from me, if you haven't already. The calendars are getting ready to fly out the door too.

Sam at Self Growth is hatching our new web site. I am not the Official Tarot Guide at Self Growth, and that community will be sending traffic (people who want to talk to me, clients!) to the web site. Its address will be

A THIRD tractor trailer load of hay - dairy quality hay - is stacked in one-ton bales for the animals to enjoy all winter. They are fat and happy, sleek and sassy, thanks to YOU talking to me.

The llama have produced three little ones. Llama have a community and they are very openly sentimental: They all gather around the newly born and welcome him or her into the world and into their family. See their pictures on Facebook (Emily Sandstrom) among the other pictures of the place.

We have had to move all the elk into one pen; they had two. Earth tremors, tiny ones, have snapped 5-inch diameter fence poles, and stretched and ruined very heavy high-tensile wire. Replacing this fence will be a huge expense this coming year. The pen will be smaller because we aren't going to put the new poles where the disaster happened.

We discover an across-the-street neighbor, a scion of rural royalty, and a surly ill bred Fish and Game Officer have been calling the agency that regulates us, the Agricultural Department, and making up evil stories about us. They have not succeeded in doing any damage; in fact, they have established our credibility. Stay tuned for the next exciting episode. The Agricultural Department are gentlemen.

More news later.

Monday, September 14, 2009

to YOU: from Emily:

Now that I have learned how one posts to this, I will be doing it regularly. You can see some of these articles at
If I have your email address, I will send you a link to join Self Growth. I think you will like it, there is so much there and something for everyone.

We have bought one tractor trailer load of GREAT HAY (dairy quality!) so Thank You!

Chicken Wing Drumettes with Your Barbecue Sauce

Barbecue Sauce Beneficial
Chicken Wing Drumettes

Easy barbecue sauce is not only healthful, not only easy, but it clings thickly to the food, isn't sugary, and is mouthwatering.

Get out your blender. Fetch a head of jumbo garlic, your best friend. Keep this a secret: You don't have to peel the individual cloves, no one will know! Put the cloves in the blender.

Shake a bottle of Lea & Perrins Worcestershire Sauce: That is the one that has the antique-looking paper from top to bottom. Lea & Perrins is the ONLY Worcestershire sauce: It has tamarind and other magic ingredients. Pour the black liquid to just under the tips of the garlic cloves – which will probably be about a cup out of the bottle. (Garlic cloves are in the blender, remember?)

Liquefy into a thickly frothy black gunk. Black gold it is. This is your barbecue sauce. Just make what you will use each time.

It does not taste like garlic or like Worcestershire sauce.

Chicken Wing Drumettes
Pour some of the sauce in a toaster oven size shallow pan. Put the package of chicken pieces close together but not crowding one another. Pour the rest of the sauce on them.

Bake in the oven at 350° for about half an hour (This time is from memory, chicken wing drumettes don't live in the wilderness one-horse grocery store here. If you want to know whether food is done, just sniff: The smell happens when the food is ready most all the time.

This meal is wonderful served on white rice. Taken to a potluck dinner, it will be the first to go and everyone will want the recipe.

One package of chicken wing pieces will serve two or three souls.
Or they can be glorious hors d'oeuvres.

Do it Yourself Diet for Life that Makes you Happy and You Can't Cheat on

Do it Yourself Diet for Life
that You Can't Cheat on,
that makes YOU happy.

Spend two weeks deep in thought about what your favorite foods are. All your favorite foods. Including junk foods, alcohol . . . think, think, because we don't eat our favorite foods just like we don't live the life we would prefer. Example: You love canned pineapple, but classify it as a dessert, and you seldom eat desserts.

While you are thinking, eat up what is in the house and buy favorite foods, putting the ones you don't have to cook AT EYE LEVEL.

Next stage is two weeks of fitting favorite foods into the way you cook, if you cook – into your lifestyle; combining them together. Example: that pineapple blended with pureed garbanzo beans, relish, a little horseradish, and crushed pineapple put into pita bread with grated cheddar cheese.

While you are thinking the second two weeks, continue buying favorite foods and putting them where your eyes trip over them. You will walk into the kitchen hungry and not reach for junk you don't want; you will reach for what you truly do want. Don't forget the simplest things like lettuce and tomato sandwiches.

You ease into this diet; it takes time. Remember you are not consciously trimming calories or fat or any other thing unless you WANT to at the moment
As you eat primarily the foods and the meals you enjoy, strange things happen. One, food ceases to be an issue: Anytime you want, you walk into your kitchen and eat something you like. As the food ceases to be an issue, you eat less: magic. Two, YOU BECOME HAPPY!!!!!!!!! Your body is happy, and it takes you with it. Not temporarily.

A happy consequence of this diet is your weight becomes what is normal for you. I invented this diet because I was so busy not because I was so chubby. And I lost 12 pounds over a few weeks.
All these things happened to me when I did this, and to all others who did; but that is only a few souls. There's a rumor of a similar diet that simply says: Eat only what you want when you want it, don't eat out of boredom, etc. In this diet, you can eat out of any motive in your vocabulary.
One day on this diet, I ate a huge bag of potato chips and three beers, in the sun sitting on a picnic table on a perfect day when the phone did not ring. I did not cheat on my diet that day, and I was soooo happy. I ate nothing else. I still remember that day.

Leadership: Tale of Two Cats, Tale of Two Dogs

Tale of Two Cats and Two Dogs:
Owly and his sidekick Iggy.
Molly and her sidekick Li'l Dude.
The same story.

Molly was a Jerry Lee type of German Sheppard: the medium brown body and black muzzle. She was from the pound, a young adult who had lived in the truck of an unemployed homeless rural western dude, with him. Molly hunted animals for his dinner and presumably shared it. She was a proud cold dog, a good watch dog, but not to be trusted with the ducks before I beat that out of her. She was the leader.

Li'l Dude was a starving abused infested stray from a convenience store on an Indian reservation. Molly had been here for a while when Li'l Dude showed up: It was the German's turf. Li'l Dude was partly the same kind of Sheppard Molly was and partly something smaller, possibly Pit Bull. People thought he was her pup, they looked so much alike. How he loved his bossy woman. The new arrival would not wear a collar for a year, and he chewed other dogs' collars off their necks. I guessed someone held him by his collar and beat him.

He cringed. When you petted him, he made noises like you were torturing him: They sounded vicious at the same time, snarling.

He was the follower. He whined a lot. He barked at random.

Likewise, Owly was the older cat. Both he and Iggy were the products of a Himalayan Gentle-cat visiting the feral peasant pussies of the ranch: cats who were genetically distinct and native to the continent: slender, longer tails, razor-sharp claws, elongated faces, very short fur and long legs: truly wild and not tamable by ordinary effort. Over the years, the Himalayan blood gentled down the gene pool, so that Owly – so named because his fur was so dense that when he turned his head it was like an owl turning its head: feathers straight out – Owly walked into the house and did not straightaway poop on the floor. He did get around to it, but I decided to tame him because he was gorgeous. Taming was a mutual ordeal.

Iggy was smaller and not as striking-looking, but here was another peasant who did not poop on the floor at all. Iggy was the lesser, he deferred to his boss cat. He looked like a pale imitation of the older resident: less distinct markings, shorter fur, softer gray and white than his cohort.

Molly and Owly shared the same fate: murdered by the western rural rubes who prey upon the pet animals of their betters.

Li'l Dude became the dog every man wanted and admired: He guards mommy and the ranch expertly, giving intelligent warning where before he had barked at random. He is now a prize who was the sidekick of his mate.

Iggy became the head cat of a pride of (now tame) kitties: 8 of them a close affectionate family.

It was not until Iggy became diabetic and went to live with the vet because the burdens of leadership were too great for his failing body that I realized how powerful a force he was among the cat family: They lost their political unity, going each his own way: No more eight-to-a-cuddle-heap. Iggy had taken over Owly's leadership position so seamlessly that no one noticed his achievement.

It is fascinating to realize that, but for the deaths of Molly and Owly, L'il Dude and Iggy would have remained vice presidents, and not developed the full personality that arises from responsibility.

Do you know someone this may be true of?