How To Smoke A Perfect Turkey

Big Stick Pulled Pork

Published out of order, here is my pulled pork video. I give away a couple trade secrets!

(Please excuse the cameraman. She was still figuring out how to use her camera. I mean HIS. His camera.)

Ribs–Don’t Miss This

Here’s my video on smoking a perfect rack of ribs:

Big Stick Brisket: A Tutorial

running man

History seems to be cyclical. 12 years ago, about this time of years I found myself unemployed. The circumstances are the same with one exception, yesterday my spirit was so impressed by God while I was running on the tread mill and praying, that I would say God spoke to me. What did He say, you might ask. He said, “You will be fired today”… finished my work out, showered and went to work, where I was fired upon entering the office.

Just between you and me I could get used to this “knowing what is going to happen” thing. I was braced, although very upset about the way it happened and the inability of business owners to “own” their decisions (more about that in coming post), I was emotionally ready to be fired. Do I know what I am going to do for work today, NO! I am thinking about returning to the gym and getting on the same treadmill and running at the same rate and see if I can get any leads. No, that is superstition.

I do know that the God that so graciously prepared me for yesterday is the same God that holds today & tomorrow and that I can go forward knowing that HE WILL PROVIDE.

Future post will be on a much more business theme, if anything this experience has re-ignited my desire to
finish the thoughts about management that began twelve years ago about this time of year, under similar circumstances. As for today, I will start the next step in my journey, knowing that I am being led and with full confidence of the future, even if I don’t get any advance notification.

The Bread Basket

New for Christmas 2010, The Bread Basket, $90

We didn’t have a loaf of french bread on hand, so Linda is using it for a centerpiece for now, but this is a beautiful tray made from a wine barrel.  The deep red color is from the wine this particular barrel held and aged.

Use it to serve bread, cheese, fruit, or just put out as a centerpiece.  I’m really happy with how this turned out.

I have one made, and can still have more done in time for Christmas gifts.  Give me a call, send me an email, or facebook me!

Old Barrels…New gifts

Inverted large five light votive

Over arc seven light

Wine barrel top lazy susan

French and American barrels

one of ten barrel tops and bottoms waiting to realize it’s potential

large five light

If you would like to add one these items to your gift list or know someone who would, please direct them to the

” Big  Stick Santa Express” or contact me at atkins.rick@gmail.com

27

As I have reflected on the past 50 years ( although I haven’t posted in too long I continue to reflect ) I have thought about my marriage.  Today 27 years ago at the young age of 22 I married my wife.  You need to know that we had a matchmaker.  Her name was Frony Sudal (sp).  Frony and I were students at what was then Multnomah Bible School, and is now Multnomah University.  Frony would tell me almost daily that I needed to meet her friend Linda and I can only assume that she was telling Linda, You have got to meet my friend Rick.  

Since we couldn’t have TV’s on campus, those who lived in the area and attended the school would often have students over for some important event that we all needed to watch.  My good friend Don and Frony were dating, Don’s love for baseball came naturally for him as his Dad was the manager for the Viscala Oaks (as I remember) a minor league baseball team.  SO, October of 1982 Frony invited a bunch of kids from school out to her house, since she lived in the area, to watch game one of the World Series.  I don’t know who was playing, my memory is not that good. I do remember what my wife was wearing the first time I met her though…Blue overalls, light blue hoody and a down vest.

I was smitten.

What happen next I do not recommend to any guy or girl as a model of relationship, engagement and marriage. Frist meeting – October 1982, Engagement – December 1982, Wedding – June 25, 1983.  Not recommended, but hey it’s worked.  So for the next three years we got to know eachother, you know like you are supposed to do while you date.

Life has not been easy at times, in fact we have made it through a couple of events that most don’t.  We like to say, “We love where we are at, and hate how we got here.”  The thing that strikes me is that God is good, faithful and an ever present help in our marriage.  Linda is a smart, thinking, talented and beautiful woman.  She has been a support, friend, critic, lover and confidant.

She has her pecularities.  She can’t seem to get the closet or cupboard doors to close, she has clothes in every room in the house( in fact, I suggested that she organize the rooms by seasons, that way she would know where to go to get dressed.) If she bakes you will know it by the flour hand prints on her butt, where she will always wipe her hands. She is a computer geek (for which I am thankful), a gifted photographer and most recently a loving grandmother.  She doesn’t think that she can host an event or dinner and yet we seem to have a lot of both in our home.  If I could give Linda one thing after 27 years of marriage I wish I could give her the gift of time, so she could pursue her passions on a full time basis.

So after 27 years, thank you Frony, Thank you Dad and Mom Tate for putting up with a whirl wind romance (although I think you were glad to get her out), Thank you to those who have given so much so that we could celebrate this day, Thank you to our children, who are now all living on their own and thriving.  Thank you to our Savior who has demonstrated how to love.  Finally, thank you to my bride, who has endured and enjoyed these days with me. I look forward to the years to come.

I love you.

Hunting

I live in a part of Bellingham where we have a lot of nuisance animals, like deer (bambi isn’t so cute when he is eating your garden with six or seven friends), raccoon ( although they stay pretty much hidden) and we hear the coyotes every night   ( together with the raccoons they keep outdoor pets at a minimum).  Although these critters are nuisance animals, I don’t mind them much.

There is however a nuisance I have been fighting for three years and this year I decided to take action.  It was time for a hunt.

I first began by tracking my foes behavior and travel patterns.  Next I watched the clock so I would know the best time to spring my attack.  I noticed that if I got up early on most any day I could catch large groups of this insidious creature unaware.  My weapon was loaded and ready to go on the shortest notice.

Armed with my recon and newly acquired intel I was ready to spring my ambush.

Thursday morning this week I arose early, crept to my front window to make sure that my foe was still unaware of my plans; they are sneaky little buggers.  I crept back to my room and dressed with excitement.  Grabbing my weapon I slid out the front door unnoticed.

Locating my first target I knocked it from it’s perch, but it fell into some bushes and got away.

NOOOO!  I was enraged and determined that not one would escape my wrath from that moment.  I went about my hunt without prejudice, I slaughtered them, young to old, male or female ( although I didn’t waste my time to check ).  It was a gruesome scene.

I had prepared so well that my attack was a complete surprise.  Not one of these creature escaped me, except that first one.  If they communicate I hope he/she is telling their story of escape and horror to the others I know exist.

My foe…the mighty SLUG.  My weapon…coarsely ground salt.  This creature had been doing damage to my hosta’s and tiger lillies.  When did this happen that I care about hosta’s and tiger lilies.  It amazes me that this weird little creature was only good for firecrackers when I was young, but now at almost 50 it is a mortal enemy and I will protect my plants at any price.  So, today I am off to get slug bait.

Side note, my neighbor, watching her grandsons walked down the drive. I asked what they were doing. She explained that the boys were hunting slugs for their salt shaker, but couldn’t find any.  I only smiled slyly.

marathon number 3

One decade ago right now, I was preparing to run my first marathon.  Much has changed in the past ten years.  There is more gray hair, combined with the diminishing amount of hair, the ratio of gray is skyrocketing.  I have a few extra pounds to loose (okay, I don’t have what you would call a RUNNERS BODY).  The only thing that seems to be strangely familar is my occupational status. I again find myself starting a new career.  Perhaps it is the combination of turning 50 and feeling unsettled in my career that has me so retrospective.

(shameless side note: my family is amazing. A talented and beautiful wife, four incredible children all living independantly, AND ONE INCREDIBLE LITTLE GRAND-DAUGHTER, she is amazing.)

Being so retrospective these days I find myself stuck between George Bailey and Jerry McGuire.  Wondering sometimes the value of my life and the value of what I do.  I am sure this feeling is not restricted to me alone, but standing closer to the finish line than the starting line I sometimes wonder. . .

So with that in mind, I would like to share three lessons I learned a decade ago, lessons I need to live today.

First, Life like a marathon is a long run in the same direction.

I remember standing on the dark streets of down town Portland with my wife, and training partner and brother, Marty. We stood in silence, for the most part, with about 6000 other people.  I was excited, scared and still not sure I could run 26.2 miles.  As we stood a strange sound filled the street and everyone began to look around.  The sound continued to grow louder as a rain shower moved through the streets of Portland, from the south to the north.  It was so heavy that I was soaked to the bone, my running gear struck to my skin and my shoes were full of water.  I remember thinking, “What a way to start this race.”  Slogged down from the start.  Looking back it was probably the best thing to happen.  The weather cleared and it was exceptionally warm that day, not a good thing for marathon running.

There were times that I slowed, a couple of times I walked, there were people I saw over and over again as they would pass me and I would pass them.  There were aid stations where you could grab some water, fruit, bagel, or those awful tasting gels that real runners eat.  There were people, occasionally sitting on the side of the road, they had dropped out and periodically there were friends and family shouting encouragement as I ran past.

The finish line ultimately was passed and the race was over.  It took me 4 hours and 22 minutes to run that first marathon.  In this marathon, at 50, somewhere past the mid point I need to remember that there is a finish line and that I will finish, I need to just keep on running in the same direction, no shortcuts and running in such a way that when I do finally cross I hear the great cloud of witnesses cheering and the Heavenly Father tell me I ran well.

Second, Marathons like life are intensely individual.

This may seem contradictory when you read the third lesson, but these can exist side by side.  I trained for months, hour after hour, mile after mile of running.  Most of those miles were run side by side with my wife and/or my brother.  Most were run around a local lake, out a trail to a local state park and back or on the streets of Bellingham.

On race day, Marty and I started together.  We were excited, energized and ready (or so we thought).  Isn’t it funny that you can prepare for an event, but until that event starts you really don’t know how well you are prepared.  At the half way point Marty started to drop off my pace and at the 13.1 mile aid station I lost sight of my brother and partner.  I was now alone on the course.  A few times I would recognize someone who had passed me or I had passed.  I saw a couple of friends, but I was out there all by myself.  Even though I was surrounded by people, never really all alone, I was completely by myself.  There was no one to help, in fact it is against the rules for some one to help.  No one could run for me.   There are no substitutions in marathons.

Just like in life, it is yours to run as you wish, or are able.  Along the way we may be blessed to run alongside someone or have someone cheer us from the sideline, but it is our race.  The pace has changed for me many times, even stopped on occasion.  I have been lost and found the course, what a blessing to find the course after being lost. (side note: boundaries are good, don’t let anyone fool you boundaries are there to protect and provide for us.)   I thought that the race would smooth out and get easier when you pass the half way mark.  I want the easy course, but there are no guarantees and we all face hard roads and must learn to endure them, as we compare them to the thrill and glory of the finish line.  It is mine to run.

Third, NO ONE FINISHES ALONE !

As I closed in on the finish line, the crowd began to thicken and I entered the “shute”.  The crowd was cheering,  gathered in anticipation of their particular loved one finishing.  The noise and crowd grew.  The closer I got to the finish line, as I crossed, I heard my name, and just over the finish line stood my wife and children cheering for me loudly. Later a friend had told me that as I entered the shoot he weaved his way through the crowd to cheer me on.

I collected my medal, and my “space” blanket ( how can we call a piece of foil a blanket) and returned to the finish line to wait for my brother.  I stood there hoping, waiting and eventually worrying for the well being of my partner.  As he crossed and we hugged I realized that NO ONE FINISHES ALONE.  My family had given so many hours so I could run, my brother challenged me in our training, my friends sacrificed to be there to cheer.  Even though we run this race called life alone, we all have our teams, our people who want to help and see us finish well.

So, thank you to all who have sacrificed and cheered so I could run.  I am committing again to run with endurance the race set before me, looking to the finish line, so that I can finish well.  I am recommitting again to be the best team member for those I can help in their races, to support and cheer for you. No one finishes alone.

So, some where past the mid point it is time to lace up those shoes and hit the road.  In retrospect the race doesn’t seem so long, it has passed pretty fast and it is in the second half that all those hours preparing mean so much.