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Hi Everyone,

                Here I sit in my living room, typing away---getting colder
by the minute. The outside temp reads 49--well it just dropped another
degree. In the last 90 minutes the temp has dropped 12 degrees. It may be 72
degrees inside, but it is a cold 72. I do remember finding "average" in math
class, maybe it applies to winter temperatures also. So if you take the
outside temp (48) and add it to the inside temp (72), you get 120 and then
you divide it by 2 and get 60-----yeah that sounds about right, I would say
that it feels like 60 inside the house. There is one fact for sure---it is
winter, and I am glad that I am a Florida girl. When I was younger I used to
say, "If it is going to get cold, we should at least have snow with it." At
43 I think totally differently now, "I am glad that it doesn't snow when it
gets cold here." Keeping up with a few northern farmers and watching them
have to deal with the snow has cured me for life. Not to mention that what I
call cold, the northerners call a warm day.

                Monday morning we got the milking done, and then it was time
to play musical chickens again. Papa cleaned out the egg mobile that we just
sold all the chickens out of. Then Mom, Steve, and I collected all the new
chickens out of the poultry barn and put them in the egg mobile. They just
started laying eggs a few weeks ago, and it was time for them to head out to
pasture. Then Mom and Steve cleaned out the Poultry barn (while I practiced
my piano). Then we all headed out to the OLD compost chickens that used to
live in the Poultry barn. Do you know how to have job security? Do an
excellent job, better than everyone around you. When our new chickens were
ready to leave the brooder house, we put them in hoop houses in the
yard--moving them daily. Then come September, we needed those hoop houses to
raise the fall batch of meat chickens. We didn't have any extra hoop houses,
so we decided to raise the new chickens in the Poultry barn until they
started laying eggs. Then we would sell off the two year old chickens in one
of the egg mobiles and move the new chickens in. There was only one
problem---there was about 40 chickens that lived in the Poultry barn that
were pretty old, and were really ready for the stew pot. They were still
laying eggs though, and we needed them to meet our quota for sale. So we
moved the compost chickens out of the poultry barn area, and put them in a
hoop house, so that we could continue to get eggs from them, while the new
chickens grew up in the poultry barn until they started laying. Then we were
going to sell the old chickens, or turn them into stewing hens.
Well...................the whole purpose of the Poultry Barn is to turn food
scraps and weeds into compost. The old chickens did an excellent job of
it---and nothing ever went to waste. On the other hand, the new chickens
didn't know what to do with scraps of food or weeds---they ran away from
them. We continued to throw stuff in for them, but it laid around in the
compost yard for days. I was beginning to beg for pigs again. When one of
the pumpkins would rot, we actually sent it out to pasture for the old
chickens to eat--for the new ones just looked at it. As time went by, we
decided that the old chickens might not be laying as many eggs as there are
chickens-----but they sure knew how to scratch around and eat scraps and
turn weeds into dirt. So in the end--when we moved the new chickens out of
the Poultry barn, we went and brought the old chickens back to their "Happy
Scratching grounds". They moved in like they had never left. In no time at
all they had scratched around and flattened all the bedding that Steve and
Mom had shoveled out of the house. They had true Job Security, and could
honestly say---"There is no place like Home."

                Tuesday the winter hay started arriving---and Papa spent all
day on the tractor taking the hay off of the semi-truck and stacking it in
the barn. They are big round rolls of hay. Mom and Steve worked in the
poultry compost yard building a feeder for the chickens. In the past they
had a long wooden trough---but when it rained, you had to carry it inside
the house, where they scratched feed all over their bedding. Then they had a
large red hanging feeder inside their house---but they kept throwing it out
with their beaks and mixing it all up into their bedding. We wanted a water
proof, outside feeder. They also had to move the nesting box out of the hoop
house that the old chickens were living in, and back to the egg mobile for
the new chickens. I stayed inside and juiced all the limes from our lime
tree---about 70 of them. Then I did some vacuuming and practiced my piano.
Around 4:00 I headed to town to run a few errands. When I got home I helped
Mom harvest the collards for the Wednesday delivery. Then we had to lock up
all the birds---chickens and turkeys. The last load of hay was brought at
6:00---so Papa had to unload it in the dark while we finished up his chores
and cooked dinner.

                Wednesday morning we got the milking done, and then we
bottled the milk and packed the order for Jacksonville. Then I taught piano
lessons, and we relaxed-------------well kind of. The hay people returned,
and since Papa was delivering goodies to Jacksonville, they brought a man to
stack the hay in the barn. The drivers though wanted a tour of the
farm----well, they wanted to see the turkeys and the garden. That evening
Mom and I had to do all the chores---lock up the chickens and turkeys,
gather all the eggs, feed the dogs (Sheba and Jill), and separate the calves
so that we could have the morning milk. Monday and Tuesday night the calves
were standing at the gate---waiting. We couldn't believe our eyes--it was
too simple. Well, Wednesday night little Miss Sundae decided to be a little
firecracker. Rosa and Anita had no problem going out the gate and down to
the panel pens where they get to eat alfalfa hay. (As I said earlier, it is
cold, and Papa just decided to make everyone some hot tea--warmth is
coming.) Anyway, Miss Sundae decided to run all over the pasture---in and
out of the cows, and her worst trick was to go and stand beside the bull,
daring us to come and get her. It was about 5:30 (light outside) when we
started, but thirty minutes later it was dark. We grabbed our flashlights
and continued our chase, until we finally admitted defeat. You are not
supposed to ever let an animal or a child win a battle-----but sometimes if
you don't you are going to lose your sanity. I remember the time our
aggressive Great Pyrenees, Archo, grabbed a dead chicken. I didn't want him
to eat it, so I asked for it back---and he just growled. Great! I had heard
that you must always win every battle that you pick with a dog. I did a lot
of staring at that dog, wondering how in the world was I supposed to get
that chicken away from him. I chided myself for not just letting the dog eat
it in the first place---but I had chosen to ask for it instead. Ugh! So my
sister Nichole and I did a lot of staring, a lot of sweet talking, and a lot
of praying. It took probably around 15 to 30 minutes to retrieve the
chicken--but we won. 

                Thursday was a day that we did not expect. It was a rainy
dreary day, and the news that we found out made it even drearier. Every year
for the past 30 years, we have had Christmas breakfast with some dear
friends of ours, Hal and Paula. For the last three to four years, we have
had a tradition of going to see Christmas lights together. They used to live
here in town, but had moved to Alabama. So when they got in town for the
holidays, they would call us and we would make plans. We hadn't heard from
them yet this year though, and I had a feeling that something was wrong. So
Thursday morning before we headed out to milk, I checked Hal's Facebook
page---and wasn't very encouraged. Friends were praying for him and his
family. Hmm! After milking Mom gave him a call---but no answer. To our
dismay, we never had gotten Paula's phone number--because Hal always made
all the arrangements. This was one time when we were grateful for modern
technology, but at the same time was disappointed with it. Through the
internet we could find out that Hal had died back in November, but because
everyone has cell phones today, and there is no cell phone directory--we
could not get a hold of anyone to find out what had happened. We did manage
to call the college where he was a professor at, and find out what had
happened, and where his wife was. He had two 100% blocked arteries, and had
gone in for a simple procedure to put a stint in---and he Coded Blue on the
operating table. Paula did come back to Lake City for the holidays---for
this is where her Mom and family live. So, Thursday afternoon Mom and I went
over to visit her. She had texted us when Hal had died---but our phone does
not receive texts. We had a good visit with her, and she is doing as good as
any new widow could possibly be doing. It is a comfort to her to know that
her husband loved the Lord, and he truly is in heaven Praising the Lord and
suffering no more. I met Hal 30 years ago at youth camp. He was the music
director, and I liked to sing. I was 12 at the time. When camp was over, I
lost my luggage, and Hal was the one who found it and brought it to our
apartment where we were living at the time---while we built a house. Our
families became fast friends, and they helped us move, Hal helped paint, and
would just come over and hang out. When Paula got a horse, we went with her
to pick it up. I would go with her to ride her horse, and she would come to
our house to ride horses. We had picnics together, took vacations
together---like a train ride to Savannah, GA where we spent a few days
sightseeing, and then came home by train. We also went camping on the
Suwanee River, and went canoeing on the river late at night by the light of
the full moon. We also sat around the campfire singing while Hal played his
guitar. Hal was the best person to take on vacation with you---for he loved
photography, and even loved to make little photo albums afterward. When Papa
had his first kidney stone, I hung out with Hal and Paula. Sometimes we
would have movie night---and once we watched the old version of Little
Women. I had read the book---but my antique copy that I had gotten from my
Great-grandma, was missing about 100 pages. I was devastated when we watched
the movie and I found out that Beth died---that part was missing in my book.
The longest tradition that our families had though was Christmas breakfast.
For 30 years they would eat Christmas breakfast with us, and spend the
morning with us talking and singing---if Hal didn't play his guitar, I would
play my piano. Yes, Hal will be greatly missed---not only by us and his
wife, but by the students that he taught, and by the church members that he
pastored. He loved people, music and his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

                Thursday afternoon before we went to visit Paula, we had a
phone meeting with the young lady who is working on our new website and
marketing. It is so nice when you have two people helping each other out
using the things that they are most passionate about. One of our goals is
for our customers to be able to pay electronically shortly after the New
Year----so it is coming, but no exact date yet. Things are progressing
nicely, and I cannot wait to see it all done.

                While Mom and I was visiting with Paula and running some
errands, Papa was home assembling my birthday gift. Ever since I was a
little girl I have been fascinated with the temperature. When I was little,
Lake City used to have a phone number that you could call to get the time
and temp (755-0000). I called it often, so often, that once when I was sick
at school and had gone to the nurses station, they asked for my phone number
so that they could call my Mom-----and I gave them the Time and Temp number.
Oops! That phone number no longer works---I guess because everyone has a
computer to tell them all the info that they want to know. Last Christmas
when we were visiting the Cranes, I noticed that they had a personal weather
station. I put it on my "wish list", and began asking questions and telling
how much I wanted one. My Papa totally surprised me and bought me one for my
birthday. Now we can know what the temperature is on our land, how fast the
wind is blowing on our windy hill, and the heat index and the wind
chill---just perfect for this weather loving girl. When we got home, it was
just getting dark, and as soon as we opened the van door, Papa yelled, "I
need help!" We flew out and headed to the pasture. Sundae was being a
firecracker again, and Papa had been chasing her around for 30 minutes. With
Mom and I closing in quickly, she straightened up, and walked straight for
the gate and headed to the pen where she would spend the night. Phew! We got
her that night.

                Friday was a very musical day---although the only music made
was chords. My piano needed tuning---well, I thought it did. I usually play
out of tune pianos, and I can handle that just fine. Recently though, I have
a few keys that will not play at all, some that only play once, and some
that keep playing even when you let go. It was time to call a professional.
He arrived Friday morning at 9:00---right before Mom and I were to head out
to milk. The first hour was spent getting to know him (talking), and then
Mom headed to the milking parlor, and I helped to get him set up. I have an
old antique stained, baby grand piano. I have always wanted to know just how
old it was, but could never find a date. Mr. McNair told me that all pianos
have a serial number somewhere on them. We did manage to find mine---kind
of. The man who had refurbished my piano, had painted over the number. Some
of the numbers could be made out, but not all six of them. The best we can
figure out, it was made in the 1940's or earlier. My piano needs a lot of
help, and when we came in from milking, it was all torn apart on the kitchen
counters as he fixed different parts. It does play better, but he is not
finished with it. One of the strings broke when being tuned, the hammers
need to be softened---it is beginning to sound a little harsh instead of
melodious, and the pins are getting too lose. Plus, our second piano needs
to be tuned. Mr. McNair was here until 3:00, at which time he called it a
day, and said that he would return early next year to finish everything.
When he left, I had me a quick lunch, and then I did the dishes while Mom
and Papa started to have an egg packaging party. When the dishes were done,
I joined the party. Then there was the evening chores and dinner, which
couldn't have tasted any better. We have really enjoyed having the white
sweet potatoes. Since Mom is allergic to the Irish Potatoes, it has really
been fun cooking with the white sweet potatoes. I had a sirloin steak that I
cut into strips and cooked in a marinade with onions. Then I cooked some
fresh broccoli from the garden. I cooked the sweet potatoes up and mashed
them with butter, topped them with the broccoli, and then topped it all with
the beef and onions. It was totally scrumptious.

                Saturday we milked the cows, and while we milked Mom
contemplated on how to fix a mud problem. Cows, manure, dirt and lots of
rain do not mix. After milking, Mom and Papa moved the wire fencing around
so that when each cow gets finished being milked, they can go down a lane
and go back out to pasture. This way they will not be standing around
massaging the dirt and water with their hooves, adding in more poop and
making mud. I bottled the kefir and packed the Gainesville order. After
lunch Mom tackled the laundry, and cleaned up the kitchen and washed out the
canners. I made kombucha. Then we headed to the garden and planted some more
carrots, and harvested some rutabagas and their greens for dinner. Then we
went to separate the calves. We placed our greens on the ground about five
to ten feet away from the metal panels where the calves would go. Cows do
not like anything new----I mean anything, like if the bucket was orange
yesterday, and today it is white, they will get scared and run away. Believe
it or not, those calves saw those greens on the other side of the panel, and
just about ran right smack over us trying to get away from the big green
monsters. We managed to keep them from running all the way back down the
lane, and with lots of kicks, jumps, and spooks, they made it into their
pen.

                I am sure that you have heard the song, "It's beginning to
look a lot like Christmas..." Around here we could sing, "It's beginning to
smell a lot like Christmas." If you could name one smell of Christmas what
would it be? Cookies? Peppermint? Cinnamon? How about evergreens? They are
cutting the eighty acres of pines down across the road from us, and the air
smells like Christmas trees. We shall have a new view before long---I wonder
where the deer, wild turkeys, coyotes, and snakes shall all go. At least a
lot of woods will still remain.

I hope that you all have a very Merry Christmas----and take some time to
pull out the Bible and read Luke 2, which is the whole reason that Christmas
is called Christmas. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a
Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. Luke 2:11

Serving you with Gladness, 

Tiare