Busy Weekends

More and more, I can't wait for days off when I can hang out with my horse and cows.

Yesterday we saddled Muffin. The saddle is very stiff and unwieldy, hard leather. The saddle blanket is slick as goose poop. It was difficult getting it all strapped down, as well as getting the stirrups set at the right angle, the right length, and the belly band and cinches down right. Muffin was very patient with all of our arranging and rearranging; now that it is set for her size the rest of the times should go more and more smoothly. Even though she hasn't been ridden since she got here, she did not buck or even bow up; she did not like the bit in her mouth, though! She is soo sweet. We had to get the cows out of the corral; they were curious and she got mad at them for getting so close to us. She will be a good cow horse; she is so protective and dominant, won't put up with their crap. But I had to get her settled into getting saddled up first!

Been a long time since I swung my legs up onto and over a horse back, though. As I hoisted myself up, I felt a "crack" as a rib bone gave way. It hurt like hell but I got up anyway. I rode her for about two hours around the corral, getting used to the saddle and her used to me. You can't splint a single rib bone, can't do anything with it, so there was no point in getting excited. I was too excited to finally be 'back in the saddle' again, so I was determined to ride it out. Since Muffin doesn't canter or gallop - apparently, according to the trainer, ever! - I was quite comfortable. When the big earth mover down at Rhett's cranked up, she simply stopped, looked, and blew until she felt it wasn't a threat. Then we walked on.

I really dislike the way the trainer taught her how to be ridden 'plow-handed', both hands on the reins. I am used to guiding a horse with a single hand on the reins, and remembering to change to two handed is difficult. She has such a soft mouth, though, that I have to be careful - the slightest tug on either rein and she is instantly responsive. I don't want her hard-mouthed.

I watched her ears the whole time; you can tell a lot by a horse's ears. She kept flicking one ear back, listening for my comments. I kept talking to her quietly. She would walk up to Mike and stop in front of him while he was taking pictures, ears pointed forward to him, as if she were posing. Never once dd she lay her ears back or convey impatience. She did blow her belly out when we first saddled her, but it took so long for us to get everything set for her little size that she had to give it up! LOL

After I unsaddled and brushed her out, I gave her an apple so that she would know that after rides she gets treats. I filled the trough, she ambled over and got a big drink, and then I went out front to help Mike with the Christmas decorations; he was running the timers and outlets today. Then I had to run to Valentine to get more cords and the sawhorses for the table he built for the ceramic village.

I am so busy now, but all I really want to do is hang out with the animals and do what needs to be done around the house and farm. There is so much to do, and so little time. But even though I am sore and exhausted, I am happy.

My brother called the day before yesterday and told me that I shouldn't have gotten a horse, because now I couldn't go anywhere, ever. He said that it was bad enough that I had chickens and cows that had to be fed every day, but now I had tied myself down to the farm forever. I told him that not only didn't I mind that, it was what I wanted. He likes to go off to California and Salt Lake and everywhere else for a week or two at a time, or at least on the weekends. I have had enough of kiting off. I hate being away from the farm even to go to work across the street or to Valentine, I miss it so much and my mind is always there even when I am not. I don't understand what people don't understand about that. This is what I love, this is where I want to be, and this is what I have always wanted.

Busier Than A Cat Covering Up on a Tile Floor

Whew. An all day trip to Rapid with Pat yesterday filled her Suburban to the roof with all of our "stuff". Menard's had more Christmas, and I found "MuttLuks" - shoes for the ice and snow - for the dogs, and got more sweaters. I even got some fleece sheets for the guest bedroom upstairs! The big new freezer came yesterday, too; it is down in the basement awaiting its filling with the 1/4 grassfed Angus steer.

Today the hay is supposed to be delivered; 10 large bales of alfalfa. We also have to go repair the fences to make them tight and secure. All to be made ready for the arrival of the three cows and horse on Wednesday. I need to get down to Lancaster's Feed store and look at saddles. Muffin has been ridden bareback and doesn't mind it, but I'll feel better with a proper saddle. "Muffin" will probably be renamed; but that will take some time to get to know her for a proper naming.

My old-fashioned blowmolds of all of the Christmas stuff, especially the Christmas Nativity, was old and broken long before we left the South; I found the cutest new one with little children's faces. I got two new soldiers too; they'll go out at the arbor and be wired down. Everyone's going for the inflatables lately, but they are impractical when winds get up to 60 mph. The blowmolds are fairly light, too, but at least you can anchor them. I finally found something to go on that wide bare blank expanse on the West side of the house; a huge flat, lit Santa in a sleigh, as long as I am tall, that will snug in close to the wall.

We sold our first dozen and a half eggs yesterday. I am soo excited.

Folks all want to come and see our "little cows"; they think they will be amazingly cute. I know the ranchers around here think I am a leetle bit crazy, and want to see for themselves the structure and solidity of this unusual breed. Yes the cows ARE cute, but they are also a tough little breed that have no problem with coyotes or snow; they are bred for rough conditions and to fend for themselves. I know we are going to take a lot of ribbing; I am used to folks thinking I'm crazy, after all! But I hope to turn that ribbing into everyone knowing just what and why we are doing this; it's like free advertising! They are not going to be pets, but real working animals. I know some folks thought it wasn't wise to get a bull when Artificial Insemination is the inexpensive way to go; but I wanted a bull just in case. In case of what? In case the cows need to be bred right away, in case we don't have the accessibility to the semen right away, in case things all fall down and we can't get what we need to breed them right when we need to. Natural is better. He may be officially PoinDexter on the papers, but he might have a name change, too. What else do you call a friendly bull but Ferdinand? The elementary school wants to schedule a field trip! These cows have never been milked before and have to be trained to stand in stanchions and tolerate having their udders stroked long before they calve.

There is so much to think about and do to get things up and running! That may be my last shopping trip for a long while and I wanted to make it count. Soon it will be time to hunker down for the long winter and get ready for the wild blizzards and long nights of black and starlit cold. Having a horse to ride out and check the cattle and fences on cold afternoons, getting ready for the new babies and milk to come in March, Deciding to steer or to sell the little bulls that may come, or to breed the heifers that may come, to keep an eye on the chickens so that they do not set up until it is warm enough to do so, to get the garden plowed under and ready for the snow to collect the moisture....

Yes, this is what I wanted my whole life - to stop wasting time on frivolities and mindless movement, and to concentrate on the things that matter to me.

Forum Discussion

I chat all the time with folks from several different forums. It's fun to have "friends" that one has never met, where one can say what one thinks and never worry about losing a friend; we're all pretty like-minded. Some of us were talking the other day about why some of us preferred to be 'country mice' as opposed to 'city mice'...

Quote:

Originally Posted by (name deleted) Out of curiosity - if you don't mind my asking - how did you land in Cody? I grew up on a farm in a rural area, but that part of Nebraska/South Dakota seems very desolate. Was that actually the attraction rather than a deterrent? Feel free to PM me if you'd rather... Thanks!

Naw, I'm not shy about it. DH and I were looking to get out of an area that had DEMANDED growth, and I was one of the people elected to bring it in. I was trained in development, etc, and with my compatriots started a huge initiative to turn a town of 1800 people and a county of 25,000 into a growth community. We worked at it daily for over 10 years and succeeded. The place will double in size in the next 4 years, and by 2022 that county is going to have 240,000 residents by all estimates. WE HATED IT. (Have you ever been really GOOD at something you hated?) We didn't want growth, and we didn't like the thought-control, property-control, attitudes, and we didn't like the increased ordinances and restrictions on our lifestyle that everyone else wanted and demanded. DH and I have always been down to earth country people, raising our own food, minding our own business, not caring what anyone else thought about our fruit trees, gardens, and farm animals.

So we went looking for a place to retire that had no controlling property ordinances, had an honest, simple, and decent way of life, and would never outgrow itself. We wanted a place where we could have chickens and cows and horses and fruit trees and vegetable gardens and greenhouses where no one would even think about making laws against them, and where we could go out at night without worrying about being accosted at gunpoint (a very real occurance - happened to me twice, good thing I was carrying) or being harassed in the daytime by 'do-gooders' who think that the more rules they enforce, they better off everyone is. We looked for something/someplace old and solid with a history of 'cussed independence' where we could live our life's dream of owning a small homestead farm and producing for ourselves (and our neighbors, if we had enough). I looked for property for 4 years on the internet, and the farmhouse with 60 acres in Cody was one of six properties (in NE, ND, and SD) I had on a list when I came out to look. I got to Cody - and never left. This was what we wanted, this was the attitude we sought, this was the type of property, people, and atmosphere we were looking for.

To be honest, I'm kind of glad that people think of the area as 'desolate' and unimprovable and even uninhabitable. It means that the high-end developers won't come here to ruin things with their McMansions and manicured lawns (where the cops have rulers to measure the height of your grass and fine you if it is over 1 and 3/4ths of an inch high - and no I'm NOT exaggerating) and gated communities, and that no one will put up big box stores that sell cheap Chinese goods to a mindless public that thinks that more 'stuff' means you are high class. The 'retirement communities' aren't going to rush here to build their little enclaves of endless exercise and self-satisfied, purposeless activities to keep their little minds and aging, oversurgeried bodies occupied. Freedom and autonomy mean more to us than just rhetoric - and personal freedom is what the High Plains, and especially the Sandhills, have. It isn't for everyone, and it isn't perfect (no place is) but it suited us right down to the fine hairs. When we come over that last hill and see the old water tower, we're like Dorothy, every time - "There's no place like home".

This weekend we go to buy our "miniature" milk cows... grin. The chicken coop is full, we are getting eggs every day from some very heavy chickens that love the cold, and the garden is about to be plowed under for next year - after giving us about 50 lbs of potatoes, some very nice pumpkins, and filling our canning jars and shelves. We have wood piled up for the woodstove, there are about 20 wild turkeys, some pheasant, bunnies, deer and antelope wandering through our property that need attention. The nights are silent and starlit, the days bright with sunshine or thunderous with storms or grey, dim, and peaceful with snow. Oftentimes for hours the only sound is the wind around the house, or the neighbor's cattle lowing in the next field over... we love it!

The people I worked with back there are all appalled that we "gave up so much" to go after what we wanted; many said they had no idea that we "were like that". They will never come here, either - which suits us just fine, too. They like what they have become, and we like what we are and have always been.

Ummmm.... How 'Bout NOOOO?

I knew it would happen eventually.

Some folks whom I moved to be away FROM are wanting to "come out to visit". They read about, see pictures of, what I am doing here, and want to 'come out to see'. One even had the cojones to ask if I had planted part of my garden for them! LOL. Ha. Ha. J/K. Before I ever left, one person even wanted to come out, and I told her, um, NO. She was hurt. Too effing bad. But she was raised on a farm, and has over and over insisted how much she hated it, never wanted to go back to it, hated the work and the dirt and the smell of it. Why would I want her or anyone like her here? Why on earth would she want to come all this way to a lifestyle she hates - unless she thought either a) I wasn't serious or b) she could play busy and impressive City Mouse to my country farm mouse (yawn)?

Each one I have had to tell what to expect. They think they will come out to a free bed and breakfast, where they can play at being farmers without doing any of the actual work. They think they can spend time watching Mike and me work, put their kids on the horsies - or that they can sit back and be catered to while they are present, play and do nothing, chat endlessly about things and people and places that don't matter - that never did matter - to us. Ummm... NO.

So first, I tell them how to get here. They can fly into Denver, rent a car, and drive 6.5 hours northeast, the last 5 hours over narrow two-lane back roads, thru towns with no gas stations or other amenities, over miles and miles and miles of empty land where huge cattle ranches sprawl; no humans in sight. Or they can hop a small propeller-driven plane out of Denver to Rapid City (more expensive) rent a car, and drive 3 hours southeast over two-lane roads with the same amenities and scenery. Or, they can drive - 1700 miles, two to three days, mostly on interstates, but again - the last two hours on back roads.

Then when they get here, they must be prepared. There's no motels, although a friend of mine rents out hunting cabins year-round, "in town". The "town" consists of her bar/restaurant, several houses, the high school, with the feed store and the gas station on "the highway". In the summer it's normally 100 degrees, hot and dry, there's no A/C, just fans in the windows. In the winter it is COLD - breathless, mindnumbing cold; -40 degrees with the ever-present wind is common. "Breakfast" is what my daughter calls 'jump-up' - jump up out of bed and get it yourself. Feed-up is before sun-up - just chickens now to be fed and eggs gathered, but soon the cattle to be fed and milked, the horse to be fed, the dogs to be walked. Hay to be thrown out. The gardens to be tended and watered and weeded; or, in the winter, the greenhouse to be checked and worked. Wood to be gathered and cut for the woodstove. In the winter, the fire to be laid for heat; better do it right so it doesn't go out or smoke up the house. Cooking and cleaning and preserving, butchering and milking and the separating of cream and the making of butter and cheese. Work won't stop - can't stop - because we are working with living creatures whose needs must be tended. Fences to ride and check, pregnant mamas to be watched so that they don't drop babies in the snow. Hooves to be examined, health to be watched, on everyone. Is the floating water heater keeping the trough from icing up? Are the pumpkins still green at the top? Are the plants ready to come out of the greenhouse or should we wait another week? Manure to shovel, or walks to shovel.

Something else they need to know - there is NOTHING for them to do here. Not like they are used to. No malls, no Wal Mart, no shopping for a 40-mile, one-way drive, better make a list because you're not going back this week. No rows of bars and sushi joints and barbecue pits and fast food restaurants to just pop over to because you're bored with home cooking. There is a bar in town, that serves amazing burgers and steaks, and is open every day - it is great but the locals mostly sit there in the evenings and play cribbage or poker. No drunken rowdiness, no loud music.

And what gets you is the absolute silence. At night, there is only the sound of crickets, coyotes or the occasional cow, lowing off in the distance. No traffic. No noise. In the winter it is even quieter. No sound except the endless wind, whistling around the house and barns.

No, most people don't want to come here. And if they do they will hate it, no matter how polite they feel they have to be. Damned few of my friends or family would truly enjoy this for longer than three days. They would be nervous, jumpy, wanting to play where there is no place to play, wanting their excitement and their bright lights and their fast food and their desperate need for other people. There's no heating ducts upstairs! There's only one bathroom, and it just has a shower stall, no tub! How primitive! How atrocious!

But - that's why we like it here, that's why we moved here. To do the things we want to do without any bother, or having to smile at people we don't really like, want, or need around us. We like animals, we like work, and we like the silence, the heat, the cold.

So if you want to think about coming here, think long and hard about what you are willing to do - and not have. Otherwise, please, don't bother. Send emails and letters, but otherwise, stay where you are - or go somewhere else. We don't have the time, or patience, or even the inclination, to entertain you for even a day in your life. Unless you are willing to work, to pitch in and help do all the things that need to be done every day, no matter who drops by; unless you are willing to give up your sodas and fast food and shopping and partying, then you won't want to come here, be here, stay here. Go somewhere where you can feel happy - and not interrupt what we do here. We don't have the time nor the inclination to play with you, to pretend that we have the time to indulge your little fantasy of 'farm life'. This isn't Farmville or Farm Town, a virtual playtime, where things happen just right and you can leave or ignore it for days at a time.

Is that mean? Damned straight it is. It is also blunt and honest and true and REAL. If you're happy in your world - don't intrude it on mine. We left it for a REASON. And the reason is - we didn't want to be there any more, and we sure as HELL do not want it brought to us. not for a minute, not for a day, and not in the suitcases of those who think it would be FUN. No, thanks.

Butchering weekend

I'm getting ready to butcher eight chickens this AM.

It's funny the reactions I've gotten this week - everything from "OMG! You'd KILL an animal??" to "You're not going to kill ALL the roosters, are you? We like to hear them crow!"

I've taken pictures of them from the first day as baby chicks, through putting them in the chicken tractors. We've fed them everything from scraps to laying mash, getting them as plump as can be. Ten hens and two roosters we will keep, for eggs - that should be starting soon! - and more chickens come spring.

I like the Barred Rock variety for heaviness and color, and the big brown eggs. Soon we'll see how their flesh is for taste, and how well they winter over.

I don't look forward to it, to be honest. It is a LOT of work. But knowing exactly what went INTO these chickens, and filling the freezer with their meat, is satisfying. Knowing that this three day weekend will end with a future for the winter is comforting.

Since Mike finally got approved for his Social Security, we are waiting for the BIG check to come in, as well as the monthly payments. This will pay off things as well as pay for the things we need to get to establish our farm. I spend time every week on my Dexter friends' websites, as well as on a horse website out of Iowa. 9 hours away is not a far distance here, not when everything is so spread out. Cows. Horses. Thinking about everything I'll want and need, to try to become as self-sufficient as possible.

Every week my friends from back East email me, or more people try to sign on to my Facebook page. Some are hurting pretty badly, some are cruising along, and some are just nosy as hell and trying to find out WHAT in the world I'm doing. The latter still don't get that I am happy here, that I moved here to be happy, to stop indulging in THEM and to start indulging in ME. Turns out this week that even my own son thinks I'm crazy and need mental help. People who thought that they knew me were no different - they knew me not at all.

People just can't seem to associate the country life with me. Everyone seems to think that I LIKED being a part of who and what they were; LIKED socializing, LIKED controlling, LIKED being in charge of things, LIKED directing a community's thoughts and emotions and feelings. They can't understand why I would ever move to a place where there are so few people, where there is 'so little to do', where I'm not going out to party and eat and control others every night. Ummmm, sushi, lowcountry boil, oysters, fried this and spiced that, everything processed and handy, quick and simple. Good god, why grow it yourself when the stores are full of it? Why hunt or slaughter when everything is so available and so easy to obtain? Why gather up light and fluffy chicken down off of birds when you can buy the nice spun plastic filler for your quilt?

"Begin as you mean to go on". That's always been one of my mottoes. If you start out to do a thing, you have to do it all the way, not in little pieces parts, half-assed. I always put my heart into whatever I did, even telling myself little stories of encouragement to keep myself going while I did it. Now I'm going to put my heart into this, do things the "right" way.. What is so hard to grasp?

I still love my friends and love to hear from them - but what they are and what I am has always been different. Sure, some try to tell me that what I'm doing is what they want to do too - someday. But for most of them, "someday" will never come. They are too afraid of what their families might say, too afraid that people will criticize them, too afraid that - in their heart of hearts - they couldn't stand to be away from the bright lights and excitement of their current lives. They are too afraid that they wouldn't be able to butcher enough food for the winter, raise enough food in their garden, milk a cow, steer a bull for later butchering, chop the heads off of chickens they've fed for four months, gather enough wood to keep them warm; that they would starve or freeze or die or - be without all of the daily excitement they daily strive for. They will never have the courage to leave that life, no matter how much they dream about it, want it, hope for it. They will never even lay the groundwork for it. The minute one of their children or friends says, "Are you CRAZY??" they'll back down. So they live vicariously through me - and I let them.

Time to get dressed and get to work.

Giggle

The roosters are learning to crow.

Hee hee. Every time I hear them, I can't help but giggle.

The roosters I used to have had very clear "cock a doodle doo"s. These guys are more like high-pitched "rur -rur-RUR!" very garbled and funny. To hear them calling across the gardens, competing in their maleness, is hysterical and sounds like arguing teenage girls.

The ones in the tractors are fun to watch. They play games with the females, "trapping" them in the coops. The females will put up with it for a while, then either shove past the roos one by one or rush them in a body, shoving them out of the way. Then the roos patiently try to herd them all back in again. No reason - no danger. Just chicken life.

Holy crap. The pumpkins have gone nuts this week, putting out literally tens of flowers per plant. I have two little baby watermelons, and there are flowers all over those plants too. The Green beans have finally burst into prolific bloom, and the squash and tomatoes are blooming like mad too. I just may have a harvest after all! I will actually have to go to each plant and make sure - especially on the pumpkins and watermelons - that there are not too many flowers/fruit on each one so that they don't get too overburdened and die before they can put enough energy into each fruit to get big.

Meanwhile, out front, Mike put an inverted-tire planter on the Maple stump. I filled it with soil and put in some blooming wave petunias, and painted it to look like the stump - except for the light spot on the front, that says "Little Tara" with the signature rose (that I also have on all the fenceposts) painted on it. The petunias in the hanging pots are blooming crazily too, and the daylilies are putting out their unusual and multi-colored blooms along the fence. The neighbors are all commenting on the strange and beautiful colors!

I came home exhausted from work yesterday, and as hard as I tried I simply could not get moving this morning. Then of course I had "an episode", and had to take my meds instead, and went upstairs for a nap, went right to a sound sleep. Five hours later I came down, still drained and exhausted. It drives me crazy but it is just something I have to deal with.

Monday I have to finish up some work and Monday night I have to help at the physicals and registration. Tuesday I'll have to take Mike in for his yearly evaluation so I won't be available at all. So I guess I'd better get what rest I can, and just do what I can, when I can. Pisses me off to be so weak, but I am where I can hide my weaknesses from others now, and take care of myself when I need to, and that is a good thing.

The Year Without a Summer?

It has been a lot cooler and wetter here than normal, according to my friends around the picnic table at the town's pot luck supper last night. Good for grass, corn, hay, wheat, and plants - not so good for some things. Pat's sons were tucked up under blankets yesterday, as the day was cold and wet and rainy all day until just before the picnic.

My potatoes are really taking off. Pat told Mike yesterday that I could come get all the old tires I needed for them. The kids don't use them for their paintball wars any more, and they are just sitting in their field on the hill behind the house.

I had to go into work all last week; lots of things to get out for the school year already. Physicals for the kids who want to take part in athletics are a week before registration, so we had to get the forms to them. Part of the Co-op order came in and I had to separate that out for everyone. Neat little piles in the gym, all with their names on them; elementary and High school teachers alike. Had to close out the computer program year for the food service billing, and re-open it for this year. Had to print all the registration stuff and put it in folders to be ready. Still waiting for the Board to approve the Student Manual, and Kate to approve the Staff Manual. I loaded all of the new year's registration paperwork onto a disk, because many of the forms they needed I had to regenerate. For some reason they were not saved - except as blank hardcopies in a file. Some folks still apparently think that a computer is like a big typewriter, and don't understand the uses!

I suggested that we get a scanner and scan in all of the records we have to keep so that we can throw away all of the huge binders of hardcopies everywhere. I am puzzled that no one ever thought of it before. If you need the records, why not have them were you can download them and print them - or keep them out of the way when you don't?

So I have been in "work mode" all week, not "farm mode". I have a couple of days this week of freedom, but will definitely have to go in this Thursday for a class. Rocky, Terri, Kate and I will all be attending a class in Valentine on PowerSchool, the student record-keeping program. We have started a file of questions to ask. The program is so unwieldy, but I'm thinking that if we just get with the programmers and DO the things we want, we can find out what we don't know that is making our lives so difficult. It's dumb for me to have to keep handwritten records of attendance because the program isn't accurate... or isn't being used to its fullest capacity. I'll find out which on Thursday!

Here on the farm, the roosters are learning to crow - the BIG guy in the rooster coop finally has it down. He is so showy I almost don't want to kill him; big and cocky and with a HUGE comb and wattle. Thinking about changing him out with one of the smaller roosters in the tractors; whatever genes he has I may want to keep and promulgate, not lose in the pan. It's all about the breeding and the future.

I DID protest our huge increase in taxes, and got a concession from the Assessor's office. They didn't drop it as much as I asked for, and of course I didn't expect them to - but they DID knock off over $6,000 on the assessment. I gave them pictures and an 8-point set-up as to WHY it should be dropped - including their errors in property assessment all over town. They actually sent an assessor out last week to evaluate the parts I noted where they had made grievous errors. I didn't raise hell and wasn't nasty - just presented facts. What I'm not telling folk is that, if we get approved for the tax loophole for Mike's disability, the property will come in well under the $75,000 limit set by the state for that forgiveness. So we will only have to pay taxes on the "extra" farm property - assessed at $7,000. Which should lower our house payments by about half, since the taxes are paid into an escrow held by the mortgage bank.

It is 55 degrees and I am gong out to clean out the chicken tractors and put in fresh hay, then mix up the poop and hay with more horse manure and dirt and build up the potatoes in the tires. Then I have to weed the gardens. I wish the pumpkins would start flowering - the watermelons are, and I am waiting, waiting... even have canteloupes coming up, but they are not flowering either. The onions are going gangbusters and I am really excited about them - never had so many GOOD onions coming out. The grasshoppers are starting to be a problem and I will have to fix that, though. I found heads on my oats yesterday, so THEY are actually producing, as is the wheat. So much to do...

Hot hot hot

Yesterday morning I got started VERY early, before the sun was up. I mixed up chicken coop scrapings with straw, old horse manure, spoiled hay, and dirt in the wheelbarrow. I got the tires from the west garden and took them to the east garden where the remaining potato plants are. I put the tires around the potato plants, and filled the tires with my wheelbarrow mix, up tot he top leaves of the potato plants. Then I mixed up my spray and sprayed the east garden.

While I was doing that, DH was expanding the 'rooster coop'. It was too small especially in this heat. So he measured and cut, then I crawled into the rooster yard and snagged the chickens one by one. He had wire-tied some iron fencing together and made a temporary yard for them to stay in while he redid their coop. At first he didn't slide the last piece of fence over the top, but the first rooster fooled him and immediately leaped up and flew out! After a few seconds of screeching and squalling - mostly by the rooster - he went back in and we got the rest of them.

Halfway through the day I stopped and got a bucket of Icy water from the hydrant, and went around refilling everyone's waterers. The chickens were panting. I poured some water over the edge of the temporary yard and the chickens immediately started digging into it for the coolness. Today is supposed to be very hot again - and then we are supposed to get vicious thunderstorms tomorrow that should bring the temps back down to the 70's-80's instead of the 90's for another week. We had sweat rags that we kept soaked in the icy pump water to keep washing our faces with so the salt wouldn't run into our eyes, and draped them over the backs of our necks to help keep us from getting overheated. I drank over two of those BIG screw-top-with-straw bottles of sweet tea.

While I was scraping up the horse poop in the barn, I found where some Japanese beetle had gone to town, laying her larvae everywhere. I scooped them out, separated them from my manure, and put them in the rooster yard. They 'went fool' over that!

While I was in the East garden I went over and stared at my wheat patch. HEY! It ISN'T all grass! There's small green wheat heads showing!! I have wheat!

So now the roosters have a nice A frame coop instead of their small box, and all of the potatoes that were big enough are now "tired". Today I have to get into the west garden and get to work. DH is exhausted from yesterday, and has to go in to town today to get his knees shot up anyway, so he's sitting and resting this AM. I am sunburnt and sore but there is so much to be done. The grasshoppers that Utah is fussing about we are starting to have too - and I predicted them coming here after seeing the population last year.

Gawrsh it's hot.

OK, it's only 79, with about 20% humidity and a 25 mph southerly breeze; but it's HOT, especially when you have to work in it.

I'm doing laundry and working on some ceramics, also decided to make ice cream today. It is smooth and creamy and sitting in the freezer right now. There are little bits of fresh strawberries and bananas in it.I got some beautiful fresh red raspberries too, and cut them up into little pieces. Most of the strawberries and raspberries I cut up and froze, but I have a small bowl of raspberries smashed with sugar in the fridge. I couldn't resist keeping them out, even though I don't have the slightest idea what I will do with them. They are my favorite fruit. I made a big bowl of tuna salad, too; and am thawing chicken and Little Ceasar's cheese bread out for supper. Pondering what I can do with those things, too.

I'm staying inside today; mostly because, after all of the running around we did yesterday, I got sick and had to take some pills and sit very quietly for several hours. I HATE that. So much I needed/wanted to do, and of COURSE I was unable to finish. grrrrrrrrrr.

The chickens are getting bigger and bigger. They really love getting moved about the garden, getting new grass to pick and new bugs to eat every few days. The roosters in the stationary pen are getting big; I pull grass and feed it to them, too. The girl at the feed store said, "Why don't you feed them cracked corn instead of mash?" - because I want the roosters to be as fat as possible, not rangy yard birds, when I butcher them.

The remaining wild mama turkey wandered through the yard yesterday -with eleven chicks in tow. So cute.

Even though it hasn't rained in four days, the soil still is damp down below and the plants are growing beautifully. I'll have to get the tires out and put them around the potatoes soon. Everything's growing, almost everything is working out the way I want... so I hate being sick and miserable, hate having to be careful, hate having to go sit down and rest every little while. There's still so much to do!

More Split than a Tree here

And then, of course, there is that tree.

A major point of contention to past owners, the tree was planted on the other side of the sidewalk, right on village property. It had grown to be a huge maple, spreading wide across the street and front yard. The sidewalk was buckled over the roots, and the folks down the road had sewer problems. Some said it was because of the tree. Previous owners denied it. But what is undeniable is that the tree was not on our property. Facts are facts, not emotion.

Paul and Mike discussed it several months back. Mike told him that it was of no concern to us; that the tree was not ours, not on our property. He said that because, unlike a lot of folks, he doesn't leave that 2 foot wide strip unmowed and neglected. When he is out on the riding lawnmower, he sees no big deal about riding for a minute more to mow that strip, too. No it isn't our problem - but if you want the yard to look even, you should mow everything at the same time. All Mike asked was when they cut it down, that we get it for firewood.





Well, yesterday Paul came over and cut it down. I was at work for the morning, but heard the saws. By the time I came home at noon, the tree was already down. Three neighbor kids, sweet girls and funny - came over to help Paul and his wife Enid load the branches into the town pickup, our pickup, and onto a borrowed trailer. Then their Mom came down too. (This family and ours have the strangest connection - in a town of 177 people, both her hubby and mine have the same first and last names. And her name is - Beth. So we are called "the 'other' Mike Jones' ". )


Two pickup truck hauls and one front-end loader haul later, and the tree was gone - except for the logs that we are moving to the back firewood pile, and the big stump.



The tree had a HUGE center hole rotted out, full of bugs and chewed wood pulp, brown and damp and not lovely at all. It couldn't have even been processed for some lovely maple boards, because the rot was so pervasive. Eventually the tree would have come down, perhaps violently - and who knows what damage it would have caused.
But after it sets up awhile, the wood will make a lovely fire next winter.





Enid suggested that the stump could hold a planter; sure enough, with the deep hole in the center, it could nestle one in there comfortably.

Of course the previous owner is angry; no matter how often she tells herself that she sold the property, she is unable to let go of the fact that she raised her children here and has an emotional connection to it. But this is a VERY small town, and the neighbors don't forget things, other things that happened, nor how her ex sneered at them and told them that now that they had sold their house, all of their taxes were going up, and laughed in their faces. (I was there when he said it.) That and other things I have experienced that have been in diametric opposition to what she and the ex told me, plus the condition of not just the house but the pasture, yard, and the barns, lead me to believe that emotion rather than reason played a big part in why the town has become so friendly and open to us... and why the folks have become more verbal about insults and slights and behavior that they found, if not insulting, at least unacceptable in the past.

I try very hard to be polite and diffuse the situations and comments when they come up. Everyone has their own version of reality. And what happened here in the past is - past. All I can do is make a fresh start with folks whom I am learning to like, and establish that we may be independent - but are not so very different. Some people find it hard to adjust to new situations, they deny them, rail against them, and steep themselves in the bitter tea of regret and resentment.

We are people who look forward; not emotionally, but with reason based on facts and practicalities. Perhaps that is the difference. We could have railed against the unfairness of life that made Mike a cripple, that took so much from us. We could have stayed where we were and moped about, been martyrs and pathetic whiners with no hope, no goals, no plans, and no joy. We could have become that sad old couple down the road who never did anything, any more, except sat and watched TV, shopped endlessly at Wal-Mart, and whined about how evil the world had become; our whole house and life smelling of sorrow and self-pity. Or - we could change our latitude and attitude, and start a new and buoyant, forward looking chapter in our lives. The choice was ours. We made it, irrespective of what others thought or believed about us. We choose to be happy. Like the cutting of the tree, when the rot was pervasive, we chose to take another step into another destiny.

Grey Days and Labor

Still cool and rainy here. A Tornado passed 20 miles south of us on Sunday, and today another one went south as well. The sky has been alternating with bright sun and dark rolling threats all day. This morning I got out on the first hill and finished putting in my juniper windbreak seedlings; 50 now all told. June may seem late for planting but the lows at night are still in the 40s here!

Yesterday hail threatened so I went out and put the month-old Barred Rocks in their coop. Rain they are starting to understand, but I didn't want a surprise hail to knock one of them out! We will have to switch from starter to mash, they are eating so much now that they are out of the brooder and running around! They come to the fence now inquiringly when I come out and sit on the cement block nearby. They want me to pull them some grass; it's like I am the Salad Bar caretaker at the buffet! I am watching them to determine which two roosters will get to be the breeding stock, and which will just be fattened for later. It's getting easier to tell them apart; the one that comes right up to the fence and cocks his eye up at me expectantly, the two who just hate each other and will not only chase each other around the pen but knock each other off of the top of the waterer and feeders. There are two hens that break up their little fights; like little moms or cops! Funny. I don't name them; it makes them easier to eat later.

So I went up on the first hill to put in my windbreak trees. I put them in the wheelbarrow with my SeaRich fertilizer in a lot of water. They were packed in shredded paper and so were stll green and damp. I put in the posthole digger, and a bag of sunflower seeds from the flowers last year - about 5 pounds of seed as well, and a bucket. I seem to take a bucket with me wherever I go now! The ones I planted before - about one-third were parched, windblown, and not doing so well. After I put in the remaining trees, I took the soaked-in-fertilizer shredded paper out of the bottom of the wheelbarrow, and padded the first trees with it, then covered that with the sandy soil. I threw handfuls of the sunflower seeds all over the hill around them. Sure enough, as I finished, the rains came up and started patting the seeds into the soil.

The clover and silage seed that I strewed all over the hill in February is coming up at last; bright green silage, cool green red clover, already with starting 'heads' on top. The 'honeybee' feed clover is already trying to bloom. Wild indigo is everywhere too, and some bright yellow flowers in clumps that I don't recognize, but the leaves are too flat and rounded for leafy spurge.

I don't get to get out in the pasture much; too much to do here down around the house with the garden and chickens starting. So today I wanted to look at an old tree that was laying down in the pasture. When we moved here with the overgrown pasture in the summer, I didn't see it, but with the winter die-off it was there, a grey-black length on the brown and yellowed grasses. So I went up to look at it. I pulled on the closest end, and it broke off. Red Cedar! What a heavenly smell! Not big enough to cut into boards any wider than 2 inches, and only as big around at the root as my two hands spread. I couldn't drag it back to the house today, but may tomorrow. Nothing rots here, just dries out, so the wood freed of the accumulated dirt and bark is just as sweet and fresh as it can be.

This afternoon was stormy and dark, thundery and gloomy. A neighbor dropped by with an old iron gopher trap for us to use. It springs up when tripped and drives two iron hooks into the gopher; doesn't even have to be baited. 'Way cool and 'way organic! LOL Look out you little furry demons...

Nothing Special

No, really, I just don't think that what is going on here is all that special. Except, of course, to me.

Having a 100 year old farmhouse, and 60 acres, and barns and fencing and a corral and pasture and living 150 miles from the closest interstate, closest Wal-Mart, is just not that big a deal. Why should it be? It is what I have always wanted; what DH and I talked about since before we were married. Planting things and watching them grow and produce, raising animals for food - these things I have done on a small scale since I was 10, always wanting a bigger piece of property to do it on, always lamenting the tiny garden spots and tiny chicken yards I had, always wishing for something more. This is what drove me. I wanted nothing special, nothing fancy, nothing overdone, nothing high-end or fancy or 'the latest thing'.

Another thing that drove me was living thru the recession of the late 70's-early 80's. It is HARD to be hungry, hard to weigh the cost and quality of food against things like the light bill and water bill. People thought I was crazy because I collected kerosene lamps, all shapes and sizes. I'd lived briefly in a place with no electricity and no running water, though, and having such things is a comfort to me. Having them filled and sitting on a shelf now is an even greater comfort. Having a basement full of dehydrated food, and a freezer full of vegies and meats and even fresh-frozen yeast rolls, ready for the oven, makes me feel strong and decisive. Shucks, having a basement at all makes me happy! Having a stack of wood drying against the garage in preparation for next winter's storms, that makes the cast iron stove roar and boil the water pan on top, that heats the whole house upstairs and down, makes me smile and feel content.

My friends still ask, but why Nebraska? Well, the West stole my heart 30 years ago. I've lived in San Antonio, Albuquerque, and Lordsburg, NM. The mountains, the dry air, the wonderful and powerful storms - and the absolute lack of humidity - is inspiring. I was born and raised in Charleston, lived south of there for over 20 years, and the oppressive heat and humidity just wears on me. It's hard to explain to people who have never lived anywhere else. I don't like the ocean - and haven't, since I was a little girl, even though I spent my summers on it. I am inspired by mountains and hills - the mountains are just a few short hours away from me now, and the hills and rivers that surround me are breathtaking. I like being outside, working my muscles and my dirt and my animals outside, not sitting inside in the air conditioning like a beaver in its dam, trying to breathe underwater everytime I step outside.

People here are tougher than those city folk and rednecks I left behind - they don't sit on their porches all day talking about hunting and how country they are; they work from see to cain't see, and are blunt and honest and fun to be around. They don't grouse about what they don't have, and work hard for what they do. They don't care what the rest of the country does. They'll visit it on occasion, but have no interest in living there. While the Libertarians I knew back east ran their yips about the failing government and failing economy, and still shopped at the malls and Wal-Mart, and talked about their great plans for when everything fell down - these people here are true survivalists, because they do it every day. Nothing special. Just healthy, hearty, down-to-earth folk, who don't judge you on appearance, or how well you can argue down at the bar about how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, but on how much work you do.

In short, I moved to where the food is. It just seemed to make sense - to be where guns and hunting are a way of life and not even worth talking about, where only the teenagers collect trophy heads. To be where the cattle outnumber the people. To be where food grows - not in long endless summers, but in short windows of summer, in between snows. To be where the only trucks that come thru are the ones shipping animals and foodstuffs OUT to market, not in. If the trucks stop, the food stays right here. And it is good food, not preservative-laden and quickfix Applebee's, TGI Friday's, Golden Corral, chinese and mexican and indian and thai and all of those other overhyped and undernourishing things. I hadn't seen a radish in years back east, except for a few thinly sliced ones on salad bars. Here they are in abundance; little sweet peppery things that crunch and melt in your mouth. Nothing special; no fancy sauces or inch-thick breading or desperately exotic flavors. Just good tender meat, fresh vegetables, and pies. OMG, the folks 'round here are the most pie-baking people I know!

Yes, this is what I planned for, hoped for, dreamed about, the whole time I walked about in high heels and silk dresses and hobnobbed with the self-impressed. And now that I have it, I plan on using it, enjoying it, caring for it, and loving it. I plan on staying in my jeans and sweats and getting dirty. I'm enjoying mixing up the horse and chicken manure and compost into fertilizer and usable soil. I'm looking forward to my first big brown, free-range eggs that pop out naturally from a clucking hen, proud to produce and showing off. I'm even looking forward to hanging up the roosters, fat and squawking, by their feet and butchering them for the freezer. Because they are mine, and no one - no one - has a claim to them but me. I don't care if the rest of the world falls down, if the rest of the folk 'out there' riot and demand that the gubbermint feed and clothe and house and drug them, I don't care if the folks I left behind yammer endlessly about their preparations to survive a "Brand New World" in their passionate terrors. No matter what happens, I have my land, my seeds, my animals, and my life - just as I always wanted it. Nothing fancy. Nothing Special.

June 1

Well, I FINALLY got all of the vegies in. Some of the potted ones didn't make it, but of course I save seed and added to the rows. I got my first green bean yesterday, with what looks like many more to come!

Back in the east garden, my 'experimental' garden, I am testing to see what I can and can't grow. There are wheat, oats, potatoes, mangel beets (for the chicken feed in winter), pumpkins, watermelon, and spanish peanuts. Each row filled with straw and hay and horse manure, soaked in water, then the seeds or plants added in and covered up.

So many things are putting their little heads up now; radishes, spinach, potatoes, mustard greens and lettuce. The onions are doing well, the garlic isn't up yet. I have to weed in front of the trees and around the strawberries today. The sunflower seed heads I collected will make a nice line of flowers in front of those trees along the driveway. I even got the petunias in the hanging baskets out on the big hanging planter, and the morning glories and sweet peas scattered about. Mulched the hostas at the base of the verandah and the roses around the arbor in front. Even got the planters at the front stoop planted, in salvia, parsley, and chives; the little roses look to be coming back there as well as the marjoram. I'll have to get out and do some serious weeding, and I used a little sevin dust on the pumpkins and watermelon yesterday. I'll need to do that some more today. I'm holding off on the serious bioinsecticide until everything's up and attractive to bugs, and until the bugs really get serious, but the pumpkins needed it yesterday!

Yesterday while walking the dogs, Sasha 'bowed up' at one of the trees and barked. There was a king snake, about 4 feet long, wrapped around the base of the tree. We left him/her alone - they eat gophers and are not poisonous, although they do have a nasty bite. I've also been told that they keep away rattlesnakes; will fight them and kill them. Good. A welcome addition to the garden, in that case! As long as they leave the chickens alone, we are good.

We moved the chickens outside last week; 80 deg temps outside. They quickly took up scratching and picking. They are not in the tractors yet, just a little hut with a fence around it to get them acclimated. They were terrified at first, of course; but soon got the hang of being outside. They are now eating twice as much, of course. I started giving them cracked corn yesterday to get them used to it. The cold front that came thru last night dropped the temps down again to where they are supposed to be; it will be in the 70s during the day and 40s at night again for awhile. But the chickens are getting acclimated. We lost one - she just kind of stopped eating. When I looked at her, she looked malformed, like her breastbone was separated. So one out of 22 is not bad. Our neighbor Phil told his wife that we didn't have room for chickens - but he thought we were going to have 200 or more! People here seem to like to do things in a BIG way! Apparently he thought I was going to run a chicken farm! Nope - chickens are just a little part of what we want to do.

Phil has started bringing over little mechanical things for Mike to work on; the only problem is that he's not coming back to get them yet! LOL His and Pat's sons, Landon and Luke, are working the ranch with Phil, and they leave the house every morning at 5:30 AM.

Mike is worried that I am getting too much sun; I'm not blistering, just turning red. I'll have to start wearing my hats. I am really developing my muscles, especially my arm and leg muscles, and losing some of the winter fat. It feels so good to be outside all day and working away.

We might go to ID at the end of the month for the National Dexter cattle show. My brother there has never seen them - even though there is a Dexter ranch right outside his ID town! We talked about going to the show together, and he might buy a couple of steers to put here til fall for a meat supply. He has money and no pasture, I have pasture and no money! LOL

Working in the yard and gardens for the next two months will take up all of my time and effort. I'll have to show up to work occasionally for some things; like ths AM I have to go in for abt a half-hour and file a State report, and I'll have to go in when the co-op orders come in to separate them for the teachers and have them in neat piles for them to take with them to set their classrooms back up in August. I've told Dean to just dump the stuff in the gym and I'll separate it out. But otherwise I get the summer off! Wish it was a PAID time off, but oh well - stuff happens.

Memorial Day

The chicks are getting huge. If there are no thunderstorms I may be able to get out and finish planting today. The pumpkins in the pots are trying to bloom already!

I'd love to take the babies out and put them in their chicken tractors; but am worried that they'll still be able to get out underneath the 'yard' frames.

Circle C was Saturday, and we did so much - going to the school and getting the six-foot poles, the electronics, and the speakers for the parade, setting those up and announcing the parade, then tearing it all down and taking it back; getting the school benches loaded and taken down to the park then back again, helping Paul load up some BIG iron and wood picnic tables/benches, working the buffet line - whew. Mike wired in my karaoke machine to the sound system so I played music in the misty rain while folks played horseshoes and got lined up. My back and legs were sore all day yesterday, so I goofed off.

I was very tired but feel better today. I got the feeling that some people didn't like that I was everywhere and doing stuff as a newcomer that they wouldn't do. Fact is that some folks complain that the town and Circle C is dying, but on't understand that the reason it is dying is because they don't get involved. Even people whom I had asked to volunteer, who had refused, showed up. This is THEIR town, after all. I'm glad I could be a catalyst for that; I don't WANT that responsibility. Been their done that sold the T-shirt.

Turns out I have to work at least til the end of May and then sporadically throughout the summer as things happen. 10 month job, hunh? LOL Well, at least I can get prepared for the coming year and not feel like a persona non grata on campus!

It is 6:00 and I am watching some dark clouds come in from the West. I am going to get dressed in spite of them and get ready to go out. Only 60 deg, only supposed to get to 70, but I have stuff to do and this is perfect planting weather, even and especially if it rains!

The birds are 11 days old, and are already showing black and white striped feathers. They are becoming less fearful and more inquisitive; checking out who brings them water and food. And they eat so much food! LOL their feeder has to be filled twice a day.

I got a lot of seedlings and seeds planted yesterday; a row and a half of potatoes alone. Today I hope to finish up. The two cleanouts from the brooder I mixed in with my other compost, put in the wheelbarrow, added water to make a mush, and used in the potato garden. I have to clean the brooder again today; the compost pile is getting pretty skimpy since I plowed everything in to the other garden rows! More horse poop to fork from the corral is needed.

Larry told me the other night at the bar that he was going to wait to put in tomatoes til he gets back from California in June, because the soil won't be warmed up until then. It is a puzzlement to me why no one grows lettuce, greens, broccoli, etc here; the weather is so cool except from late June thru July that nothing would go to seed until very late! We shall see how the section of collards does; foks around here have never seen them, and they can get to be soo bushy!

The lilacs out front are blooming and smell so sweetly. I finished cleaning out the pond and filled it. The wheat in the East Garden is already two inches high! The daylilies I transplanted here are springing up, and everything is in growth mode. The tulips scattered haphazardly around the yard were pathetic this year; only one bloom. I didn't even know they were there until they came up this year! I'll have to dig them, separate them, and put them in real beds this year to protect them from both weather and the lawnmower. Still don't understand plants just stuck in holes here and there, with no cohesion, no mulch, nothing. WTF? How do you expect anything to grow and produce if you don't protect it? The strawberries are cheerfully poking their heads up, the gooseberries are taking off, and the new blueberry blooms got nipped by the frost this week but are fine. Last year's cherry tree has blooms. The new apricot, apple, and plum trees have baby leaves.

The nice thing is that I have so much property that I can finally grow whatever I want. There is sooo much room! Ummm radishes, carrots, things that I couldn't grow in clay will do great in the sandy soil here. Mike made me another sprinkler on a tripod for the East garden, and I have the one on the West garden already. He put weed n feed on the lawn, and sandburr killer behind the West garden. He even sprayed the yard dandelions! I love the grass here; so soft and green, not weedy and harsh underfoot when it's cut, like before. Mike told Janet that he used to mow the yard with a weedeater because we had so many plants that a lawnmower couldn't deal with it.

Tammy is in Vegas again this week; I invited her and her boyfriend out but she is busy playing and probably won't come. Can't blame her there!

The High School graduation was last night; 14 graduates. What great kids! Their class colors were hot pink and lime green, their theme song was "Don't Worry, Be Happy" and their class motto was "If opportunity doesn't knock, build a door". The whole graduation was lively and silly and crazy, but very moving; the kids stepped down off the stage and took their parents flowers. Afterward we were invited to two graduation parties; I had some glazed grad statues in my ceramics shop, and one was a blond girl, the other a dark-haired boy. Oddly, that described the two kids who invited us to the parties! So I painted each of the two grad's names on the statues, and attached an orange tassel to each cap - and then wired a $10 bill onto each tassel.

One more full week of work, and then I'll have more time to work in the garden! This is the perfect job for what I want to do with the rest of my life.

Beginnings Of Birds

Well, the Barred Rock chickens I ordered came in this AM. They were hatched, sexed and shipped on the 6th from MO. I have 11 cockerels and 11 hens - 2 more than I ordered; most places do that, just in case.

I was expecting Nancy to call this AM before I left for work; but by 7:10 she hadn't, so I went on in. More than half of the students will be gone today; we figure on only about 20-25 at school. Most of the teachers are gone, too - we are having to double up in classes. As I was getting the coffee on and the Daily and Staff bulletins ready - and getting some cheerful picking-on by the staff who knew I was waiting for the call - Mike called and said that Nancy had just called, the chickens were at the PO. So I finished up quickly and left!

As soon as we got them home, we took them downstairs. We had warm water for them in the dispenser, and I took each chick out of the box, dipped his/her little beak in the water, and they went right to drinking. Then I scattered the chick starter on the paper towels, and they immediately started eating it. I filled the food dispenser and some wandered over to it, too. I went back downstairs an hour later and they had pretty much eaten what I had scattered already, so I fed them again!

They are all pretty cheerful and active. I am watching them very carefully; if they group up under the heat lamp, they are too cold - if they are in a circle outside of the lamp circumference, they are too hot under the lamp. Since it is only in the 60's here - with a sharp, cold north wind - they have to be kept warm and inside for awhile til they get real feathers.

Phydeaux is slightly interested in them; he keeps standing at the head of the basement stairs and listening to the soft peep-peep coming out of the basement! He is not a stair climber, though, and his curiosity has not overcome his fear. Sasha didn't even come out to look or listen; totally unconcerned. However, when the roosters learn to crow, that will change, I'm sure! Still, she doesn't like stairs either.

I've raised chickens before of course; big fat black mamas and some little banties that used to run around in the yard year-round, laying eggs and raising babies. But I've never had just babies; there's always been a mama around to sit on them, keep them warm, and protect them. Starting a whole new generation and family "From Scratch" is pretty exciting but a little scary too. I picked the Barred Rocks because they lay BIG brown eggs, are supposed to be good mamas, and are resistant to cold temps - something I have to consider here now. The roosters will fill the freezer in about 16 weeks with good fresh chicken roasters.

Funny, the Barred Rocks are not a known breed here, even though they have been around since the 1800's. Elaine and Nancy were curious about them, had never seen them before. I hope they feather out to be beautiful and fat and look the way that they are supposed to. Most importantly, I hope that they can DO what they are supposed to!

One more step on the path to being self-sufficient.... Now, no matter what "avian flu" strikes the rest of the country, or how high the price of eggs and chickens goes, I'll have my own. Far off the beaten path, away from the hysteriacs who think that first this, then that, horrible thing is going to happen to them, or what government freaks out over some contrived foolishness or other.

Trying to Work Around Work

I've only got 4 more weeks or so left to work; my job only has me working 10 months out of the year. Which means in the summer I have 8 weeks or so off.

My problem is that, right now, I have more than two days' worth of work to do in the garden or at home! It can't all be fitted in. There is soo much to do... most folks don't understand that growing things organically means that you don't stick plants in the ground and dump bags of fertilizer; no, you have to work in the compost. You have to work at what you do. All of the eggshells and organic waste and ashes from the fire and sawdust from Mike's shop had melded into a huge pile; and the deeper I dug into it the blacker the earth was. That all went into the "small" vegetable garden; the garden where the usual truck stuff goes. All those eggshells and horse manure will add so many trace minerals into the soil!

The strawberries came this week , and the little strip along the driveway is where they will go. For that I worked in pitchforkfuls of horse manure and spoiled hay. I soaked the strawberries in my algoflash and water mixture, set them off to a good start. I got a yellow card in the mailbox yesterday, and I just KNOW that it is my blueberries, potato sets, and onion sets, but I can't get them til Monday - so I have to plant them once I get off work Monday. The fruit trees and gooseberries are on their way - I'm tracking them - they will probably be here Tuesday or Wednesday. They and the blueberries will go next to the driveway with the strawberries. And THEY will have to go in after I get off work too. Then the chickens are due next week; they will be inside for at least two weeks, but still. I still have one more row of juniper trees to put in on the hill.

I was so tired yesterday at sunset when I finally knocked off work. All I wanted to do was to take a shower - the horse poop and sweat simply did not make a combination I wanted to sleep in, no matter how tired I was. So I did, and went to bed. This morning I woke up, thinking of all of the things I had yet to do today - and then Mike whispered - "Get the Camera!" and I looked up and there were three of the prettiest little does, their winter fur coming off, standing at the pond in front.

Now I know that everyone around here says that the deer will eat everything, but I've rarely had a problem with it. I might here - the garden will be so much bigger, and I have no cat herd to keep them down. But still... They are soo pretty, and such a promise of food for the fall.

I simply can't wait til my time is my own and I have the time to do what I love to do, what I came here to do. It makes me crazy to be stuck inside on days when I have to answer the phones and get the billing done. All I want to do is get out and get sun and get to sweating and shoveling and digging. I need the money, of course - but I love the outdoors and what I can do in it!

It's 4:30 AM on a Saturday

And even my East Coast friends aren't up yet. It is raining - it has been raining for two days already - but it is a soft and steady rain. Everything is greening up; my tulips are up but not blooming yet, the lilacs are almost ready to burst forth, the apple and cherry tree have soft fuzzy green buds on them. And today is the first day of spring turkey season. The birds must know it; our flock has been scarce this week. I'll have to literally hunt them down. But it's ok; I know where they go.

Gotta run to get some gopher kill and some large plastic sheets soon. It's about time for the garden to go in; the anxious plants in the window are waiting and waiting, stretching and growing. There's a chance that we still could get some freezing weather, so I need the plastic sheets just in case. Even if I don't use them now, I might want to extend the harvest. I need a bag of sulphur too, to acidify the soil for the blueberry plants. And Guerney's s having their fruit sale; need to get some of their trees and bushes. I need a partner for my current apple tree, two apricots, and I'll get some gooseberries and strawberries too. I haven't had a gooseberry in over 30 years. I miss them, that little explosion of oh-so-sweet in my mouth.

Last night we went to the Hub and I saw Larry, the president of the American Legion. He was sitting with Mr. Wobig, whom I had yet to meet. We hit it off immediately. He asked me why I moved here, and I tried to be politic. He grinned and was insistent. So I told him that the people were the thing that had most gotten to me. "What about them?" he pressed. "Their honesty," I replied. He grinned and sat back. Then we talked about the difference between here and most other places. He grew up here and was soooo anxious to get out into the world. Once he started working for the railroad and had traveled the lower 48, he came back here with a determination to never let this area become what the rest of the country has become. "I'm glad you are here," he said, after awhile. "Most new people want to move here and change things." "Not me," I said. "I moved here to be a part of what is here, I like it the way it is, I will fight tooth and nail to keep it this way. This town isn't dying - it is the soul of what is alive, what needs to be alive, in this country - the last bastion of freedom."

I wish I could express it to people who are unfamiliar with it, or who never see it, or who never want to see it... that our lives literally depend on our ability to survive on what we can do with our hands, our hearts, and our minds. That hard work and planning is so important, so necessary, to survival - and that handouts are never free but always cost more than most people will be willing to pay. The folks here 'get' that. Like I told my son last week - I found a hole and I am pulling it in after me. I don't want people coming here to ruin it, to make it like the rest of the country, greedy grasping mindless want want want. I need it to stay the same, to not have the infiltration of the Welfare mindset, the "you owe me" mindset.

And speaking of work - it's time I got up and did! Life is too short to waste a minute of it.

Easter Sunday Thoughts

So much to do...

Got some better hanging pots for the petunias I started from seed. Got some new jeans and some more things for the house, and the wood for the chicken tractors Mike will build. Here's a pic of my favorite: Heehee. Ours will have to be a little longer to accomodate all of the chickens - and they will fit between the rows we've plowed in the gardens to help keep down the bugs and weeds. They are movable which is pretty cool. And cheap to build which is even cooler.

I have a lot of things on my mind - more seeds than planters, more plants than I thought already, where are the onion plants and blueberries that they don't ship til April (AHEM!! WAITING, HERE!), the compost pile needs turning and additions, where has the year gone, gotta get the laundry done, what will I do or be able to do in the coming months, when wll that freaking house sell... sigh.

We bought more bullets and shells yesterday. You can't find any in 50 miles; everyone's on backorder. We drove 100 miles to shop anyway, so WTH.

Finally got my taxes done. This is the last year I use Turbo Tax, what a ripoff. They charged me in Sept and again when I filed - and the filing was rejected twice because of THEIR error. Call them up and get some fella named Raj who can barely speak English and can't spell my last name. What an idiot. The IRS was more helpful! Go offshore, you fuckers and you lose my business. Done.

So like I said a lot of things pressing on my mind... all I really want is some down time to play in the yard but it is raining and icky, 46 degrees, damp and chilly. I want, I want, I want...

I need to get busy.

As The Theme from "Jaws" Plays...

Dum dum dum dum dum dum dum dum....

Another snowstorm is approaching. It should be here tonight. Lots of things to do today. Need to get the leftover limbs cleaned up and stacked, out of the way. Need to finsh the laundry. Need to get the turkey cleaned and ready to roast. Need to get things going. Need to have everything battened down, dry and ready. Bake some banana bread today? Hmmm. Blueberry pancakes for breakfast? Hmm. Let me think. Have to clean out the woodstove today, for the fire tonight and tomorrow. Get those ashes and the two kitchen compost bins dumped into the compost pile.

I thought I heard a racccoon thump onto the verandah last night. "THUMP" and then that chittering sound of a pissed off coon. Couldn't see anything, though. There is still a drift next to the verandah; about 5 feet long and three feet high, swirled on top. I just KNOW they want underneath, in that warm safe place. I check the latticework all of the time, looking for a break. Get in, sneak down next to the dryer vent, and I could have skunks or coons under there. Not a pleasant thought. Like rats - once they get in it is all but impossible to get them out. So I check, and re-check.

Naturally suspicious, me.

Watching the world go by outside my world, via computer. Will Blondie go to ND with the Red Cross? Will Debbie get her new place? Will Rebecca's new job help her at all? The passions play out, and I am the voyeur, watching them all, listening. But none of it affects me. Here there are too many things to do.

Chris is talking about coming out in July or August. I don't believe him. I'm sure he WANTS to but he could never seem to make it 300 miles, much less 1700. Rob and I email back and forth. If TSHTF, he thinks he and his family could make it here. I'm not betting. I invited him - like most - knowing that most will stay as long as they can where they are, thinking and telling each other it will never get that bad - until it is too late. It is useless to tell people anything about themselves. They don't want to hear it, no matter how much they demand to. I proved that once again two weeks ago. Yammer yammer yammer help me help me I am so unhappy tell me the TRUTH - then, of course, dead silence. No one wants the truth. They want THEIR truth. They want what it is convenient for them to believe; what it doesn't hurt them to believe, what makes them feel all better about themselves. Shrug. Not much to do there. Most people will wrap themselves in a familiar pain rather than reach for an unfamiliar and frightening possibility of pleasure.

Tammy wants to bring her new bf Jim to meet us. Still on a wait-and-see with that one, too. I really don't want to get too excited - too many men follow her around because she is smart, funny and beautiful, thinking only what they can get out of her - trying to increase their reputation by being seen with her. Not a whole lot of trust here. She can pick whomever she wants, but time will tell if I like them or not. And I don't want to seem too excited or happy or anxious - because if she has to dump him I don't want my opinion to matter.

The sun is up and the plants are reaching for it as it grazes across the table. Stretch, little babies. The green beans are already six inches high, everything else is expanding. The peas already have 5-10 real leaves apiece! Soon I'll be transplanting the bigger ones into cups. A month to go to put them in the ground and I am soooo impatient.

The chickens I ordered won't be here til May 8 or 9. The incubator is set up and ready to go, though. I could have snatched up some at the feed store the other day; mixed breeds and who cares? I care. Begin as you mean to go on. I may be looking at other options, but I know what I want and why. Blowing money on a spur of the moment purchase was never my style.

Ah, the chickadees are finally up. They discovered my stash of sunflower seeds in the garage; sneaky little devils. I don't mind. Plenty to go around. And the ones in the bag are too hard for them to get into. They flock around the corn after the turkeys leave. Little tiny cheerful survivalists. They are flitting around the pond in front, getting their little sips of morning water. When I cleaned it out last weekend they sat in the lilac bushes and swore at me.

As the sun comes up golden in the east, the grey and brooding western sky seems to just be grumblingly stirring. Today it will be warm - over 50. And clear enough to stack the new wood to weather over for next winter. Stretch and face the new day, knowing that the storms tonight will being in changes... and preparing for them.

What a day!

Well, this morning we got up bright and early as usual, and bustled out of the house by 7 AM. We went to Valentine. At True Value they measured out hose for the sink connection so that I can water the plants in the bay window (some are already over an inch high!). At Baumgarr's Farm Supply I got the equipment for my brooder; the heat lamp, the feeders, the waterers. We got groceries and then went to Pizza Hut for lunch. I took the long way home and Mike slept whle I drove around the Dam. There is no ice now; the waves were battering the shore like always. All along the way we saw pheasants, turkeys, deer, and antelope, bounding out and enjoying the beautiful sunny day.

When we got home I went to the computer and ordered the chicks for the brooder. 10 cocks and 10 pullets. I'll raise the hens and slaughter all but two of the cocks when they are 12-16 weeks old. That way I can have the eggs I want and still have babies! Mike is going to build chicken tractors to put out in the garden to keep down the bugs and weeds, for when the chickens get old enough to be outside.

Then we went out to chop wood. I wanted to fll the woodbox; this next week looks to be pretty bad, with lots of rain and snow and ice. We may even get a Snow Day out of it! So I got the axe and the mallet and the wedge and was splitting logs. Paul came by and offered to help cut down the tree that is uprooting Mike's shop; so they tied a chain around it, girdled it, and yanked it down. I scooted over to Pat's and got some beer for Paul and root beer for us. As they cut up the tree, I loaded it in the wheelbarrow and stacked it neatly next to the garage, to dry out for next year.

Finally at 5:30 we were done. I'm going to go take a shower (pheeewwweeee!!!) and we will have leftover pizza for supper.

MAN what a busy day! And so satisfying - a wood box full of wood, ready to go for a week of snowstorms, chickens that will come in a week or two to fill the brooder in the basement, and green plants growing in the bay window. Life doesn't get any better than this. I'm very tired but, ohhhh, so satisfied!

At Peace

I have been worrying and fussing and thinking and planning and so damned impatient lately.

I was looking online at the Dexter webpage. I want my cows but can't get them yet; reading the info and learning from folks is keeping me in the loop. It's calving season, and they talk about how they don't have to 'pull' the calves; Dexters apparently drop their calves like puppies or kittens! But who is breeding, who will be selling, how can I get a bred cow or three - all important questions. I know I'll probably have to wait til the show in IA in June, but still, it makes me crazy waiting. Looking at their comments keeps me sane.

Then I was looking online this morning at the hatchery where I plan on buying my chicks. I've been looking at it for months now; clicking on the descriptions and pictures, debating on number, type, and size. Since I plan on butchring the cockerels (most of them) early on, I am debating how many chickens I'll have left, how big the coop will have to be, how big the run will have to be. So many things to think about. Will my neighbors fuss about the rooster crowing? Will Dwayne have the chick starter I need? How long will I have to keep the chicks in the brooder in the basement? What will the weather do? How long will I have before I have to build the coop and run?

My neighbor down the street has his own construction company. I'll probably ask him to build the greenhouse; he has a tiny front end loader and is usually pretty busy, but still takes his kids out on the loader on the weekends, teaching them to drive it. To put the greenhouse in the ground for the size I want will take more effort and more equipment than we can do. Which I knew of course.

I am anxious and thinking and plotting and planning, hoping Tammy's potential buyer starts the paperwork today on the house. I was sitting here, aggravating myself with costs and expenditures and worries, when suddenly a voice in my head said simply, "Don't worry so much. I am looking out for you." It was so strange - and suddenly I felt as though, yes, there was Someone looking out for me, watching over me.

Sometimes I forget why I moved here. There were a lot of factors involved, but always, in my rushing around, my aggravation, I knew - knew! - that I was supposed to move, I was supposed to come HERE, that I was directed to this place. When I first saw it, it was like an arrow in my heart, like Brigham Young standing over Salt Lake and saying "This is the place". All of the other places I was going to look at seemed to dissolve away. I have a purpose for being here. I don't know what it is, yet. But there is a reason I was sent here. Just like I was sent to Hardeeville to help Rodney - and I didn't even know it at the time, didn't know him, didn't know the area. But I was sent there as surely as I was sent here. It was only later that I discovered why. And then when it started to fall apart, when Rodney lost his way and fell apart, my father came to me and told me - not in a dream, but as a real person, his usual angry and outspoken self, asking me what the HELL I thought I was doing, that I had done all I could there, that my purpose was fulfilled and I could not help there any more, and I was wasting TIME. That changes were coming and I had to change too. I hated hearing that, but Dad was always right. I know people reading this might think I'm crazy, and maybe I am. But I saw Dad for four hours, as clearly as I see this keyboard and screen, standing on that balcony of my room at the Hilton Head motel, backlit by a raging thunderstorm. I remember crying and arguing with him when he told me there was no more hope there for us or for me; that changes were coming - bad changes - and I needed to get out of there. I packed and went home shaking early the next morning, and told Mike all about it. And it was that night I knew that that was not my purpose anymore, that things had changed - and I would be at peace only when I changed with them.

For some inexplicable reason, this is now my purpose and my life. For some unknown reason, I feel as though I have paid my dues, have done what I was supposed to, have moved on to further my life, my knowledge, my experiences. Everything will work out, as long as I do what I am supposed to, what I feel in my heart is right. Never mind the screaming panic and hysteria that springs up sometimes late at night, the regrets, the tearful sadness of leaving some people I really and truly loved, the "maybe, if I'd done THIS" feelings. All is for naught. I am supposed to be here. And I will be cared for. By Dad, God, or some unknown being, who knows? I am safe.

Mad at Myself

I do not have enough ass.
Dammit.
I do not have enough ass to keep that rototiller in line in the sand!!

I used to be able to wrastle it through the clay with no problem - there was enough resistance on the tines and wheels to keep it steadily going, munching through everything. But in the light sand here, it just takes off, even when I pull the bail down to 1/3 speed.

Now I either have to start hoeing lines - which will take forever - or DH will have to do it. ARGH. He can only do a little at a time; probably a half a row at a time, because of his injuries. I started to get the hoe out and he told me not to... he'll do it. Of course it will take lots longer than it should. Not that I'm ready to plant immediately or anything - but still. It pisses me OFF when I can't do the things I want and need to!

I need a tractor, dammit.

I can still get out there and get the trash and carpet out of the East Garden. THAT will take a hoe - bundles of carpet laid and scattered, willy nilly, folded and twisted and rotted. I'll just back up the truck and pile it all in the bed and take it to the dump. Paul uses it there to keep down weeds.

I did manage to get the woodbox filled again. As beautiful as it is today, the sun shining, 60 degrees outside, warm and springlike, I know that there will be more wood for the fire needed. Even though the maples and the lilacs are budding out already, I still know that snow is a usual thing in April here, sometimes even in May. No seeds will be planted here for at least six weeks, and certainly no plants will be put out - at least, not by me.

Tomorrow I will get out the pump and pump out the melted snow from the pond and get it cleaned out; put the stones around it that Tammy brought me in November.

Grrr. Think I'll go bake something - maybe caramel rolls? - to cheer myself up.

Challenges

The seeds are in the pots in the window.

Drives me nuts. I wanted the greenhouse already! I wanted shelves and shelves of these!

Oh, well, one does what one can. I seem to be a very patient person, but in reality I am eaten alive by wants, wants, wants! I want it all and I want it now!

Sigh. Patience is something I have HAD to learn over years and years. I can't make a ceramic product without pouring the mold. And Waiting. Then popping it out of the mold. And waiting. Then undercoating it. Then firing it. And waiting. Then glazing it and firing it again. And waiting.

I can't make the little green heads of the plants pop out of the soil. Can't force them at all. I can water and sun and warm, but I can't MAKE them grow. Dammit.

Lots more seeds in the basement. Old seeds. Not going to waste pots on maybes - but I AM going to plant them ALL this year, bit by bit.

Do I REALLY have two WHOLE FLATS of green beans and peas, and a whole flat of Zucchini and crookneck? Betchreass. They send me HUNDREDS of these - and only 16 tomato seeds per packet! One Mortgage Lifter tomato packet, and two Opelaikas for paste, and one cherry tomato packet for Mike because he likes picking and eating them right off the vine. Grrrrrr. Good thing I like these things! I'm not planting anything I don't like or won't use.

Last year I carefully saved my basil and marjoram seeds, and dried the herbs. So what do they send me as my free seed? Oh, go on. Guess. Herb seeds aren't hybrid and can be saved year to year, so I do. Sigh. But I did order the sage, chives, and the parsley. We like Parsley.

And the Wave petunias have to be babied, scarified (rubbed with sandpaper) and soaked, and then planted in soilless mix - not covered. Argh again. Another reason I hate hybrids - but the Waves got so much comment last year, spilling over the hanging pots. They really look nice come July. Sigh. The Morning Glories and Coreopsis I can just throw on the ground, but noooooo. Not the Waves. Sigh.

Still to come are the plants - the onions, the potatoes, the blueberries. They won't send those til April - a good thing. I talked one night at the bar to the guy who plants the potato farm near here, and they won't plant til April. So it is a good thing. My Daffs and tulips (TULIPS!! That I don't Have to dig up every summer!) haven't even poked their heads up here yet.

I have to make my spreadsheet, show when I planted what, how long it takes, when I put them in the garden, etc. I want to do this RIGHT so I know and understand my new growing seasons, and what will grow here and what won't, so when I DO start to sell bedding plants I'll have the right ones.

I have to confess here that, as much as I have always NEEDED more room for more plants, dreamed and salivated and desired more space and more more MORE seeds planted and growing, I am a little daunted by the size of these gardens. This is what I've always wanted, dreamed of, and worked towards - but now I have to DO it. I am a little scared.

I think that instead of going to O'Neill for the Irish Festival next weekend I'll stay home and order my chickens. I have x amount of money, and I am going to spend it all - or at least a good amount - on my future here, not on a brief day of frivolity. My friends at work laughed at me - they take days off to go places and do things, and I've told them that the day the chickens come in at the Post Office (Nancy at the PO will call me) is the day I'll take off so I can get them started. You have to take each shipped chicken by hand, dip their little beaks in the water, then turn them loose in the brooder under the carefully adjusted heat lamp. Then you have to scatter the chick starter around so that they can find it. THEN you have to watch them for the first few hours to make sure that the lamp is not too close or too far away, to make sure that they don't smother each other because they pile up when they are cold, etc. Sigh. Everything has to be carefully done because they don't have mamas - and I want them to think of me as their mama. At least until they start breeding on their own in the yard!

So many decisions and so little time. So much space and so few seeds to fill it. So many hopes and dreams about to be realized by my own efforts. I have to ignore that little tremble in my heart and just DO it. Argh.

More thoughts

Barb walked up to the house today. Since she was attacked by the dog last October, she hasn't been walking much. So we walked together for awhile and talked. I really like her and Delbert. We talk about plants and cattle and seed and flowers and horses.

I am sad to see one of my online friends stop her blog. She is selling her homestead in WA. Five years and she has done so much there - but now she has to move to VA for a job. It was Debbie who introduced me to Dexter cattle for homesteading milk and beef production. She will try to buy some property in VA and do the same thing. Her livein boyfriend seems to have grown tired of her and her pursuits, though, and will probably not go with her this time. Turns out he actually had to do real physical labor and he's not keen on doing that again. Typical of some folk - they desperately want to move to the country and live there, but like another friend says, they think it is all picnics on the back forty and not dirty disgusting hard physical work. Like most people, they want the benefits of a lifestyle - any lifestyle, be it Welfare, big-city, high-end, or farming - but want to do none of the work.

I have to say that this irritates me. I've seen it so often. And what really bugs me is the people who trust them, those ones that live off of others, to pull their own weight - and they never do. They have dozens of excuses and reasons, but they want to live a certain way and see no reason to put an effort into it. They drag their partners right down with them, too - they won't work so they make their partners' work double.

I've watched so many friends get destroyed by their choices in partners and friends. They totally believe that this is the best choice possible, that someone else is willing to put in 50% of the labor and love and effort - and then they end up pulling all of the weight in the relationship. Sometimes they realize what has happened and discard those vampires - but mostly they struggle to live with them, appease them, care for them indefinitely, until the vampires themselves wander off, leaving my friends as empty shells of themselves.

I'm watching a friend now get sucked dry by his vampire friends and family. Friends he chose, it's true - but family, too, that will not stop demanding that he put whatever money or effort he has into them, their hopes, their dreams, their day-to-day lives. Makes me sad - like Debbie, he will never shake them loose until he has nothing left to give, or changes his life in one fell swoop that dislodges them permanently.

Meanwhile, while my 'old' friends watch TV and have parties and skim the Internet and go to the latest restaurants, I drive down to the Hub and have the Sunday grass-fed Angus buffet for $6.50, and chat with friends and co-workers at the school. Then I come back and look at the Internet, comparing tractors and accessories, cattle prices and feed costs; look at the auctions for farm equipment and antiques, and dream and hope and plan. My life is so far removed from them now. A walk around town with a friend is more satisfying and fun than any TV show, the Hub is more pleasureable than any trendy restaurant. And I am sad because they will never have what I have, see what I see, do what I do - and never want to, either.