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Hi Everyone,
Last week was extremely busy and I went to bed exhausted every night. Do you know how I know that? I grabbed my pocket calendar tonight so that I could read my daily notes of the week—and every square for last week was empty! I guess we shall find out just how well my memory really works.
· Monday—weed the garden
· Tuesday—package eggs/harvest
· Wednesday—delivery/evening chores
· Thursday—compost/mulch/transplant/pecans
· Friday—process chickens
· Saturday—you name it, we did it
There, I remembered! Now let’s see if I can embellish that a little.
I had one goal for the week—get two garden beds weed free, the walk ways mulched, and the beets, bunching onions and leeks transplanted into the garden. So on Monday, Steve, Mom and I weeded, and weeded, and weeded. We accomplished the beds we needed to get ready, and actually had time to work on some more beds. One of the beds in the new tunnel garden is solid nutgrass. I cannot weed nutgrass too long for it kills my neck and shoulders (the negative effects of flipping my horse when I was 15), so I weed a little nutgrass and then I go and weed the easy weeds. I didn’t get to work in the garden again until Thursday, but Mom and Steve were able to return to weeding Tuesday afternoon once the eggs were all packaged. As soon as I was done milking the cows on Thursday I worked on the paperwork and then I headed to town to get some more compost for the garden. After lunch Steve and Mom prepared the beds with the compost and filled the walkways with mulch. One of the garden beds was so heavy with weed seeds that Mom lined the bed and walkways with cardboard and then they dumped the compost and mulch on top. When I finally made my way to the garden (I had to take Moises home first) I started to broadfork the bed where I was going to plant the leeks and bunching onions. I got the row all the way done when I realized that I needed to dump some chicken compost in the row—onions are heavy feeders. Then I began to broadfork the row again. I got about 6 feet done when I remembered that I was supposed to dust the row with wood ashes—because onions like potassium. So I dusted the row with wood ash, and once again began to broadfork the row. When I was done I gridded the row (marked the row with lines) and then I transplanted the onions and leeks. When I finished that I headed over to the new West Tunnel and gridded the row for the beets. I had about 100 little beet plants to transplant. It was going on 4:30 and it was time for Steve to go home, and Mom had to go pick up a bunch of cracked pecans that we had ordered from a local pecan place called the Nutcracker. Therefore, I was left all alone to plant the beets—at least I was alone until the last ten plants when my sister and her family popped over for a short visit.
Once the grasses turned brown and the cows started eating hay—the milk production dropped. Thankfully we have a backup plan—ween the two oldest calves (7 and 8 months old) and separate the other five calves at night so that we can milk the mama’s in the morning. This allows us to produce the same amount of milk that we had when the cows were eating green grass and peas. Separating the calves never goes the same—some nights we go down field, open the wires, walk behind the calves and they all walk out and up the lane as simple as that. Other times we get our exercise—or as Papa said the other night “at least we are getting warm.” Sometimes you think that everything is going to go perfectly for the calves are all walking nicely to the opening—and then just as they get to the wires they turn around and take off running back to the herd. There are times when you chase them from one corner to the other corner, round and round the hay rack, in and out of the cows—and sometimes they think that if they go and stand beside Dijon the bull, that we will not get them—WRONG! Papa and I always do it as a team, but tonight I didn’t expect to separate the calves, but when Papa was giving the cows some fresh hay he thought that he would just go ahead and separate the calves. We found out that he was separating the calves when we looked out the window into the dark night and saw a bright light with little legs walking in it. When Papa came in we told him that we were surprised that he separated the calves in the dark—and actually accomplished it. He told us that it was still daylight when he started his adventure. The calves ran from one corner of the field to another corner and back again. Then they ran around the hay rack a few times. When they finally did run out the opening they split and three ran one way round the pond, and two ran the other way. Papa tried to hurry up and get to the exit lane with the three calves about the time the two calves reached the exit lane—but neither group took the exit lane they just continued on around the pond, three going one way, and two going the other. So needless to say—it was dark by the time he got them out of the pond area. Then trying to get them to come up the lane with the lights of the tractor shining from behind them was a challenge. When you shine a light behind a calf, it creates a big shadow in front of them—and they are afraid of their own shadow. Papa did accomplish it though, and we shall have a nice amount of milk tomorrow.
On Wednesday’s Papa doesn’t get home before 7:30 at night so when it gets dark before that I do the evening chores. Usually I will head out around 5:30, but this week I was busy writing a friend of mine a birthday email. I know—a birthday email how terrible! I am a believer that snail mail letters should have a comeback. I could almost bet that there is not anyone in their twenties or teens that know the joy of opening the mailbox and finding a hand written letter on some pretty stationery from a friend. I miss those days, and I have tried lately to do more hand writing of letters to brighten people’s days. BUT—I had procrastinated too long and the instant delivery of email was a blessing at the moment, and thankfully you can add pretty computer stationery to your emails. I finished my letter around 6:00, and it was just starting to get dark. A customer arrived for some milk just as I walked outside, so I served her and visited for a little while—and then it was really dark. I went to grab my flashlight—but it has been having trouble staying on, so I grabbed Mom’s new flashlight. A chicken had made its way up to the house the day before and was making havoc around the house. She slept under the Gravely the night before, so before I took off in the Gravely I checked underneath—and there she was sleeping on the wheel axel. I gathered her up and dropped her off in the chicken house where the old compost hens dwell. Locking up the new chickens, the old hens, and the ducks was easy—although I had to head back to the feed room to get feed for the ducks. The problem began as I headed down the lane. When I was putting up the ducks I realized that Mom’s new flashlight only lights the path for your feet, and as I drove down the lane I needed to know which field the chicken houses were in. They move daily, and I never take note of where they are and the flashlight did not shine far enough into the fields to spot anything. I was wishing that I had Papa’s new light for his rifle—it shines across the fields lighting up the whole area. Thankfully the first chicken house was close enough to the drive lane that the lights of the Gravely lit it up. Then I had to find Yasha and the sheep, and Jill and the second chicken house. I was grateful that everything was close enough for the Gravely lights to spot. When I finished feeding Yasha I headed over to the pond and enjoyed the stars. I also enjoyed singing Christmas carols—finding out that I don’t know full verses to very many of them. I was amazed though at how many have to do with sitting under the stars: I Wonder as I Wander—“I wonder as I wander out under the sky, How Jesus my Saviour did come for to die. For poor on'ry people like you and like I, I wonder as I wander out under the sky.” Silent Night—“Silent night, holy night, All is calm, all is bright 'Round yon virgin Mother and Child Holy infant so tender and mild Sleep in heavenly peace Sleep in heavenly peace.” It was very peaceful and quiet down at the pond—no crickets, no frogs, no birds. When I turned around to leave though some little bug in the grasses started singing up a storm—I am sure that he was saying, “I am here, please do not step on me!”
Friday we processed 65 chickens, and now we only have four pens of chickens left out in the pastures. By Christmas they will all be in freezer camp, and we shall be done for the year—until next spring. We have processed more chickens this year than we ever have before, and we are very grateful for our processing building, all the equipment and the help that God has supplied us with this year.
Saturday we went from one thing to another all day long. Getting up in the morning was not the easiest for me. I was grateful that I got to sleep in until 7:15, but I bet I could have pulled an 8:00 if I didn’t have to get up and get breakfast so that we could be outside by the time the workers arrived at 8:30. It was almost 11:00 when we finished milking the cows, and then we had to pack the order for the Gainesville delivery. When that was done I headed to the garden to harvest the last of the bok choy and some kale for a customer. I have more bok choy sprouting in the greenhouse, but the plants that I started back in September are flowering. I am going to let a few seed out so that I can save my own seeds. When I came back inside I made a kefir drink for lunch and then I finished the receipts for the delivery. Then I worked on some paperwork and Mom filled some jars with dried kidney beans and placed them in the canner to pressure can them. While they cooked we watched some YouTube while I ironed and Mom shelled pecans. When my ironing was done then I helped shell pecans too. When the canner was done we hopped in the truck and headed over to a nearby farm to pick up some feed. When we got back from there we headed to the garden to harvest the ripening Ponderosa lemons. Some are so big that they required holding the lemon in both hands in order to pull it off the tree. We harvested about 8 five gallon buckets—and not all the lemons are ripe. We also had Papa go by a friend’s house to get 3 five gallon buckets of oranges. I think that shelling pecans and juicing citrus will be on our agenda for a while. Once we had the lemons snug in the cooler I headed inside to start dinner and make some kombucha—I was supposed to make it on Wednesday but I forgot. When dinner was done I practiced my piano and then I helped Mom finish the dishes. Then there was laundry to fold and put away. It was after 8:30 when we could honestly say we were DONE! Then it was time to get ready for bed.
Ready for bed is exactly what I am right now—and it is one of those rare Sundays where I actually finished my journal before 9:00. That is good, because my eyes are already falling asleep. So good night, sleep tight, sweet dreams, and don’t let the bed bugs bite.
Serving you with Gladness,
Tiare