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Hi Everyone,
I could sum my whole week up in two words: Birds and Gardens. Tonight I was out doing the chores for Papa, and I was singing as I went—which is normal for me when working by myself. As I pulled up to lock the turkeys up for the night I was singing and the turkeys came running up to listen. I thought that it was pretty cool, so I hopped back into the Gravely and flew back up to the house to grab the camera. Somethings can never be repeated and if you do not seize the opportunity it is lost. I was hoping that when I got back the turkeys would be scattered again, and that they would come to check me out if I started singing. To my delight they did—and this time I caught it on camera. You can see it here. Turkeys are so personable that we have always said that every farm should have them. We get to enjoy ours for one more week—then they get to fulfil their Thanksgiving duty.
Yesterday morning I was heading into the laundry room when I saw a bird fly by. I quickly tried to shut the kitchen door but it was too late—it flew past me faster than a speeding bullet, and there the poor thing flew all over in a panic stew. I opened the front door in hopes that it would fly out—but I guess after flying into a few windows and getting stuck behind the salt and pepper shakers on the kitchen counter it was a little brain dead. It ended up doing the splits on the wood floor in front of the front door. Mom caught it up and carried it outside to the porch railing. When she opened her hand it just sat there with its foot wrapped around her finger. After a little while it stepped off, turned around and looked at us and sang. It sang a few songs before it decided to fly a little further down the porch—and then I remembered the camera!
Thursday night as I was planting the last onion I heard a familiar fall sound—the bugle call of the Sandhill cranes as they were making their trek south for the winter. There were only three of them and they were flying very low. At first I couldn’t see them—because I was looking high in the sky where they can usually be found. Last year they landed in our neighbors pastures, and I was hoping with them being so low that they just might land in our pasture this year—but they flew on.
Monday morning I called the local seed and feed store to see when the Vidalia onions were coming in. The man told me that they had come in the week before. Oh me, Oh my! I was not ready. I wasn’t planning on planting them until the first week of December. Now I had to get the garden beds ready by Thursday. Where I planned on planting the onions we had grown flowers all summer. Cleaning up the dried flowers was the easy part—but the luffa sponge vines had taken over and some blackberry vines were popping up here and there. I spent half of the day clearing out the big stuff, and then the other half was spent pulling up the little weeds. When the day was over I had three rows weed free—one for carrots and two for the onions.
When we finished milking the cows on Tuesday I worked on the orders for Jacksonville while Steve bottled the milk. I wanted to get some chicken compost for the onion rows, so I was going to let Steve bottle the kefir. Papa had gone to pick up meat at the butcher, and just as I was heading out the door the phone rang. It was the butcher calling to say that they forgot to load the bones on Papa’s van. We called Papa and he turned around—but I knew that Papa would be home in 20 minutes. I had a problem then—the kefir needed to be finished and cleaned up before Papa got back so that we had the table to sort meat. I can bottle kefir faster than Steve, but I really wanted to get the chicken compost. Then I had an idea—I would bottle the kefir and Steve would get the chicken compost! It worked out perfectly. Just as I was finishing up Papa got home, and shortly after Steve got back. We then spent the next hour plus getting the beef organized in the freezer. It was 2:00 when we finished, now our egg packaging help was pulling up the driveway. Mom grabbed a glass of chocolate milk, and I grabbed a sunflower butter and jelly sandwich with a glass of milk—and then we were off to package eggs. Before we were done with eggs my piano student arrived, so I left the party to listen to some music. When I was done teaching it was time to head to the garden to harvest—but I have to admit that I did sit down to relax for a little while first.
Wednesday night I did the chores for Papa. I had to feed the dogs, and lock up the turkeys, ducks, and chickens. After I locked up the turkeys I headed over to feed Yasha—but she wasn’t there. I walked all the way up to the top of the hill of the 2 acres, but there was no Yasha mixed in with the sheep. I called and called—but no Yasha. I was worried, for it was this time four years ago that our dog Jack came up missing, and we never did find him. I decided to go ahead and finish the chores. The next stop was to feed Jill and Sheba. To my delight when I got to the pond I found Yasha camping out with Sheba. I was glad to see her. I didn’t know that she would ride in the Gravely—Papa told me later that she would, so I tied a rope to her collar and walked her back to her field. Then I walked back to the pond, and to the end of the property to feed Jill and Sheba. By this time it was getting dark and I had one more problem—the chicken houses are moved to new fields all the time, and I had no idea which field they were in and it was too dark to see. When I shined my flashlight around it bounced off the fog—so it was no help. After driving down the lane for a little while I finally saw a dark object in the field, and was able to lock those chickens up after all.
Thursday it was rainy off and on—but I had one goal, and that was to get the onions planted. Actually that was just my big goal, for I also needed to plant three seed trays of onion seeds, one seed tray of beets, nine cloves of garlic that our friend Sue had shared with us, and three rows of carrots in the garden. I had Steve put the chicken compost buckets near the garden bed, but then it began to rain and he had to move them under the tunnel. Between rains one of the batches of chickens was moved out of the brooder house to the pasture. I spent the morning in the greenhouse planting seeds. By the time it was lunch time the sky was turning black so Steve headed home for the day. Mom had to run to town—but I had to work in the garden. I was grateful that the black clouds blew over, and I was able to work in the garden. The first thing I did was broadfork the carrot bed and marked the rows. Then I planted three rows—three different kinds of carrots. Once the carrots were planted I marked the beds for the onions, dumped the compost and wood ashes, and broadfork the beds. I smoothed out the dirt, marked the rows and then I planted the onions—all 203 of them. I finished up around 4:30, but I forgot to bring the garlic with me, so I headed up to the house to grab the garlic and some duck food. Mom had just arrived home so she joined me in the garden. It was a long day for me, and I was ready for bed—bed there was still dinner to cook.
We processed chickens on Friday—but only two-thirds a batch because they were slow growing. It is amazing how some batches grow to BIG, 6 pounders, and others are just 4 and 5 pounders. By Saturday the weather had cleared up nicely and Mom was able to paint some more on the house doors. I managed to get my ironing caught up and a bunch of other little things.
I have spent my evening visiting with my sister and her family—and it is now 10:00 at night and I am ready for bed. I hope that you have had a great week.
Serving you with Gladness,
Tiare