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Hi Everyone,

                I cannot help but to say how much I am enjoying this wonderful Florida Winter—spring weather. It has been absolutely gorgeous these last few days, and while I know that it is only temporarily, I shall enjoy every second of it. This week we have had some small trials, and some great blessings.

On the twelfth day of Christmas . . .

                . . . My true love gave to me---the first lamb of the season! Monday morning we were setting up to milk, and I needed Steve to fill up the apple cider vinegar gallons, so I offered to take over his job—guarding Flag’s food from the sheep. I looked out in the pasture and what to my wondering eyes should I see, but a little brown blob on four spindly legs trying to learn how to stand up for his first time. The mother is a very good mommy, and he is a very good eater. I knew that Yasha was fixing to be put to the test on whether or not she would be a good sheep dog and live up to her name which means—To make Secure. The week has passed and to our great delight, Yasha pretty much ignores the sheep. Every once in a while she will walk through them, calmly round them up, and then go on with life. She is working out real good. Jill and her play together all the time—and you can find Yasha sitting next to Jill most of the time. Yasha’s favorite animal to guard—beside Jill, is Flag the bull.

Speedy Gonzales

                Last Sunday night we were sitting around talking about some young men who would love to do some work on the farm.  I thought that the perfect job would be to help cut down and clean up all the elephant grass—which grows fourteen feet high in one year. We have it decorating our backyard fence, and once winter arrives it turns all brown and is ready to cut down—so that it can start growing again once the weather gets warm. Mom said that we didn’t need any help to cut down the grass for it would only take an hour. I was sure that she was wrong, for I just knew that it would take all day. Monday morning when Steve showed up to work, Papa gave him the weed eater to start cutting down the elephant grass. After 30 minutes—and only about ten feet done, I told Steve about the young boys and told him Mom said that it could all be cut down in an hour. Steve told me that he would let me know by the end of the day—when he finished cutting down all 100+ feet of elephant grass. I was truly expecting to prove Mom wrong—but Steve saw it in a different light. He said in his mind, “If Mrs. Tarri says that all the grass can be cut down in an hour—then I am going to try to do just that.” A little over an hour later a hot and sweaty Steve appeared with his task accomplished. Another hour was spent by him and Papa cleaning up the mess and taking it down to what we call “the sinkhole”.  It is really just a low spot in the middle of the farm where we throw all large compostable items: hay, trees, large weeds, dead elephant grass, and other odds and ends. Now that the back yard is cleaned up, we still have a large section in the garden to cut down. Although we were told that it was not invasive, it is slowly taking over where it was planted. We would love to totally dig it up and be done with it. Since the roots grow a good three feet underground, I would love to dig it up in the garden and turn the area into a little pond.

Move over weeds—here comes something better!

                After lunch on Monday we headed to the garden to pull up the last three bok choy plants that had gone to flower, and all the weeds that were growing in the bed with them. Steve broadforked the area and then Mom and I weeded. Once the weeds were all gone and the dirt was all leveled out, we transplanted 36 kale plants and that many or more beet plants. I never have enough kale for sale—it is a hot item, so I planted more. Once I was done transplanting the kale, I left Mom to transplant the beets while I headed over to help Steve weed the garden bed where we always plant sugar snap peas. It was going on 4:00 when we were all done, and once we got all cleaned up Steve went home and Mom and I headed to town to run some errands.

At least we had eggs!

                For the last two weeks the 80 acres across the street has been on fire—well, thankfully not in a dramatic way. Last year the pine trees were harvested, and we think that the owners are fixing to plant more pine trees. Therefore they hired a company to come in and clean up all the rotten trees, left over tree branches and debris. They made probably about 100 piles all over the property, and set them on fire. They started at one end, burning as they went. Last Tuesday they reached the end of the 80 acres that is across from our property—and the wind was not in our favor. We thankfully got the milking and morning chores done before the worst of it blew in. That is when the chickens came to the rescue! Since they are laying more eggs—like a five gallon bucket full every day, we were able to have an egg party. We spent until about 2:30 packaging eggs.

“You’ll Be Happier with a Hoover”

When the eggs were done, Mom and I were planning on juicing lemons—for the lemon trees are loaded, but when Steve came back from putting up the egg buckets he suggested that we clean the floor in the milk house—it gets awfully stained from all the dirt on our shoes. Usually Steve and Mom grab a hand scrub brush and get on their hands and knees and using some elbow grease scrub the whole floor. About a month ago though Mom found an old vintage Hoover floor polisher machine in the attic—and it is retro pink. We were not sure if it would work—because it is from the 1950’s. To our delight—it worked, and cleaning the floor was as simple as holding onto the handle while the machine did all the work. Well—it would have been that easy if the brushes to the machine were not shedding like a dog. They looked like they were made of pine straw, and while the machine was doing a superb job of making the floor brown and shiny again—it was leaving a trail of bristles and mud behind.  Mom went behind with a mop and wiped up all the mud, and swept up all the bristles. The problem in the end was that we ended up with a clogged drain—due to an overabundance of bristles weaving themselves through the drain strainer. When it was all said and done though—we had a clean floor, no broken backs, and a working drain. Now all we need to do is find some new brushes for our little machine.

The Winds Obey HIS Voice

                How grateful I am that the winds and the waves still obey the voice of God. When we went to bed Tuesday night the air was quite smoky. It had been smoky most of the day, and had prevented me from harvesting the vegetables for the Jacksonville delivery. I hoped to head to the garden first thing Wednesday morning before the smoke rolled in, but when I woke up in the middle of the night and smelled smoke in my room I was a little concerned. I looked out the window and all that I could see was fog—smoky fog at that. The smoke was creeping in through the cracks in the house, irritating our throats. I knew that I would never be able to get to the garden at 7:00 as I had hoped—the fog doesn’t lift until the sun is high in the sky. I was also concerned about milking the cows—no one likes to breathe smoke. I began to pray that god would send a strong wind that would blow the smoke away from our farm. Wednesday morning at 7:00 it was still smoggy outside. At 8:00 when I headed outside to set up for milking a north wind was beginning to blow and the smoke was gone from the milking parlor and the garden. Knowing that my time was tight, I asked the Lord to bless the work of my hands for in one hour I had to: put together all the parts for four milk tanks, fold the cow towels, fix the two soapy water buckets, fix up feed for four cows that just come in to eat; run out to the garden and harvest 60 leaves of broccoli, 2 bunches of green onions, ten leaves of kale, grab a few rocks for a floral vase, cut a few of the narcissus that are in bloom, gather the first pink bloom of one of my Camilla trees; clean my bathroom, and get ready for guests—yes, all in one hour, so that I could milk the cows and get the milk packaged for the Jacksonville delivery. I am thankful that it all got done, and when the Cranes arrived for the morning the boys helped Steve package up Tuesday’s eggs and then they were able to package the produce that I had just thrown in a basket.

                While the smoke would drift in a little bit here and there—for the most part the air was crystal clear for the next few days as the winds blew strongly from the east and the north.

Florida’s Great American Outdoor Store

                Thursday found us ready for an adventure. When Mom and I were on our way home from Missouri a couple of weeks ago, we stopped at the Bass Pro Shop in Chattanooga, Tennessee and bought Papa a new pair of slip on shoes. When we got home, we found out that they didn’t fit Papa—he couldn’t get his foot inside the shoe. No problem—especially since Papa has never been to a Bass Pro shop or a Cabela’s. So as soon as lunch was over, we all headed to Gainesville to have an afternoon of adventure at the Bass Pro Shop. We asked one of the workers how long they had to work there before they stop walking around looking at the ceiling—for it houses a museum. He told us about two months—but that only applies to the area of the store that you work in he said. Any time he would walk through another part of the store—he would find himself looking up and around at all the beauty. We literally spent the afternoon at the Bass Pro Shop, and Papa was able to find a pair of shoes that fit.

Now you see it, now you don’t

                That is what the rats were doing with our strawberries—unless they left a partially eaten one behind just to aggravate us. So last week Mom and I headed to Home Depot to buy some wire to make “cages” to go over the strawberry bed. On Wednesday the Crane boys and Steve helped Mom make those cages, and then on Friday Mom and I put them over the strawberries.  They took ½ inch hardware cloth and cut it in eight foot sections. Then they stapled one side of it to an eight foot length of 1” x 2” wood. Mom and I used electrical ties to attach the plain wire side to the fence that runs down the side of the caterpillar tunnel. Then we hooped the wire over the strawberry bed and attached the wooden side to the ground with two stakes. We were able to cover all but the last two strawberry plants, but Mom still has some of her old wire cages from last year. Hopefully it will all work and we will get to eat the strawberries—and not the rats.

The Ants Come Marching In

                While I am enjoying this beautiful weather, another critter is too. For the past week every time I turn around I find a swarm of ants in the window of my bedroom, and in the baseboard behind my dresser. It seems that the weather must be just perfect for mating and forming new colonies. As far as I am concerned they can do all their business outside—not in my bedroom! It never fails that when I am the most tired or the busiest, they come out with a vengeance. I am finding a few things to be thankful for though:

1.       They are not in my closet or my dresser—although replacing clothes might be easier than having ants eat the frame work of your house.

2.       They are not in my bed which is beside my window.

3.       I have a Mom who doesn’t tire of vacuuming them up.

4.       They are in my bedroom window—I have curtains that come down easily, all the other windows have blinds.

5.       They are in my bedroom—we might not have noticed them if they were in any of the three unused bedrooms, and I wouldn’t wish them in Mom and Pa’s bedroom.

6.       They are in my bedroom—and not the kitchen.

We read that it is a good time to bait them—but we are allergic to chemicals. So I guess we have some research to do. The idea is to feed them a poison that they take back to their queen and when she dies—they all die. Sounds like something from Shakespeare. I only know one thing—they need to move out. Shall I hang an eviction sign on my window? If they are swarming to make a new colony, I suggest that they take a voyage to the great outdoors for there is much space out there for a new colony. If they stay inside and swarm, the space for their new colony is chosen by us—in the vacuum cleaner.

Shop till you Drop

                Mom and I have never really liked shopping. We do it when we have too, and only once in a while will you find us doing it for fun. I was in need of some new socks, and we were in need of some new garden gloves. I have checked all the stores in town—but couldn’t find any. We even stopped at a Tractor Supply in Missouri to see if they had the kind of socks that I like—but they didn’t. So, since all of my winter socks have holes in the heels, I decided that it was time to order them on-line. I spent hours Saturday afternoon—shopping! Okay, so I didn’t have to face the crowds, worry about reckless drivers, or walk my legs off—but shopping is shopping whether it is in an actual store or on-line. In the end I did find some socks that I think that I will like—hey, I couldn’t feel them or even try them on. I guess I shall find out when they come in the mail. I also found some new garden gloves—and that wasn’t easy either. I can say this much about shopping online—the reviews are very handy. When a review says, “The socks won’t stay up after I washed them,” you know to look for a different kind.

                The rest of the week was spent doing paperwork, packaging orders, harvesting produce, cooking meals, organizing drawers, washing and folding laundry, practicing my piano, teaching piano lessons, fixing broken shelves—do you know what it is like to open your cupboard and find that the dishes on the second shelf are holding up the third shelf that is also full of dishes? Saturday afternoon I was able to send out an email advertising an upcoming Lotion Bar Workshop on February the 8th. I am looking forward to that, and hope that you will join me.

                I hope that you all have a wonderful week, and do enjoy this Florida winter—the cooler weather will return in a week.

Serving you with Gladness,

Tiare