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Hi Everyone,
They say that it is better to give than to receive, but sometimes the giver and the receiver receive the blessing. This week we had the privilege to bless others, who were also blessing us.
Monday Mom was able to start mowing the garden. The grass was so tall that you could sit down in it and barely see over the grass—truth be told, some of the weeds are just as tall. I was able to weed more in the tunnel, and hope to finish that chore tomorrow so that I can get some compost on it. We have about seven weeks before it will be time to plant the fall garden. I am hoping to get the seeds started this week. Monday was a very hot day, and we worked until we were hot and sweaty and exhausted. The nice thing was that the Durmaz family had invited us over for dinner—so I did not have to cook that night. We had a delightful visit, and enjoyed each other’s company. Plans were made for them to come to our house the following day.
As soon as the milking was done on Tuesday, Mom and I did some rearranging in the pantry. Then around noon I headed to the garden. My goal was to get the row of peas pulled up before the Durmaz family arrived to help us weed in the garden. As I was walking out to the garden I saw a white, misty wall far off in the neighbors pasture. It looked like rain—but I was hoping that it was dust. When I reached the gate, Papa (who was gathering up one of the new calves to return to her mother—they like to disappear and make their mama’s frantic) hollered over that it was fixing to rain. I yelled back that I was hoping it was dust. As soon as I had gathered my tools and my gloves, little wet droplets began to fall on and around me—it was rain. It wasn’t too hard though, and I decided to weed the flower beds beside the gazebo just in case I needed to take shelter. The longer I worked, the wetter I got, and the more weeds I pulled the dirtier I got. By the time I finished two beds, the weather had cleared up so I headed over to the pea row. Since Mom cannot eat green beans, I decided to grow a Better Snap Pea to use in place of green beans. They grew, they produced, but they never really looked edible. They only looked good when they were about three inches long, and then they turned yellow. There never seemed to be enough of them either to make a meal from. I tasted one raw—but it was nasty. We never ate them, but I did learn three things.
1. Their flowers are great food for the pollinator bugs. They were always buzzing with wasps and every other kind of flying insect you could imagine.
2. They are great ground covers—there was not one weed under them when I pulled them up.
3. They are nitrogen fixers. Peas are high in nitrogen—so that should help when I plant the winter greens.
So next year when I am finished growing the spring crops, I think that I will plant peas to attract beneficial insects, fertilize the soil, and to control weed invasion.
It was because of the wasps that I wanted to get the plants pulled up before the Durmaz family arrived to help us weed—I didn’t want to take a chance of them getting stung. Thankfully, the bugs flew away as I pulled up the plants. By the time the Durmaz family arrived, I only had a quarter of the row left, but I was filthy from head to toe. Little face itches had caused me to wipe mud across my face a few times, and every inch of my dress was covered in dirt—so I had no way to wipe off dirt. I felt sorry for the children whose Mother had brought them out to help us weed in the garden. Weeding isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and usually only little boys enjoy getting filthy. I can get filthy, but if I know ahead of time that I am going to get filthy, I am pretty hesitant about it. The children were all eager to weed, and since they didn’t get rained on—they didn’t end up filthy. When we were done in the garden we headed to the milk house to package eggs—and that took a few hours. In the end we blessed them with some milk and eggs in exchange for them blessing us with help.
On Thursday we had the joy of meeting a young lady who is pursuing a career in film making. Her mission is to help others accomplish their mission through a great visual story. Madison contacted us a few weeks ago asking if she could do a short video on our family and our mission—providing food for those who cannot produce it for themselves. Madison wanted to spend a whole day with us capturing as much of our farm life as she could. When I walked outside at 7:00 Thursday morning to set up the milking equipment I found Madison getting pictures of the farm and the sunrise. She had left her house near the beaches in Jacksonville at 4:30 that morning. I asked if she had eaten breakfast yet, and she hadn’t. Mom was inside fixing breakfast so I went back inside to tell Mom to increase the ingredients we had company. Mom decided to pass the cooking baton on to me, and she decided to go set up for milking. After a hearty farmer’s breakfast of oatmeal, eggs, honey toast, and a glass of creamy Jersey cow milk. Madison came out to watch Mom and I milk the cows. Before we were done, she headed off in the golf-cart to get some video of Papa moving the sheep, cows, and chickens. Later while Mom headed to town to pick up some more chicks, Madison and I walked through the garden. Summer is not the prettiest season for the garden—it is 75% weeds, and 25% pretty garden plants. We could literally be full time gardeners, but instead we are full time farmers—we do a little of everything. Mom got home with the chicks, and then it was lunch time. After lunch Mom and Madison went around the farm taking more video footage, and I took care of some phone calls. Then Mom and Steve mowed the courtyard, and Madison and I headed back to the garden so that I could harvest some okra and some flowers. When we came in I made a little bouquet with the flowers, made some yogurt did some laundry and then it was time for dinner. We had Oven-Fried Drumsticks, baked okra and acorn squash with apples. Madison had never had acorn squash or okra—and she liked them both. For dessert—we had chocolate milk. We put about a tablespoon of maple syrup in the bottom of our glass; then we add a heaping teaspoon of unsweetened cocoa powder. Stir that together until it gets creamy, and then we fill the glass up with milk and stir it together until well mixed. Yum! Yum! After dinner Madison got a few more pictures and then she headed out around 8:00—it was a very long day for her.
On Friday the Durmaz family returned to help us process chickens—they have become our handy helpers on processing day and everyone knows their job real good and we can get done with much more speed and enjoyment.
Saturday afternoon was spent piddling—cleaning up paper work, ordering some items, watching a little YouTube, and I played in my room. I have all the new bedding for my bed, and I was anxious to see how it all fit together. I was very pleased with the results, and cannot wait to get the room painted so that I can move back in.
In the past eight days we have had three calves born—all to first time heifers. Sally had a little girl last Saturday, and then Jenny had a little boy on Wednesday. This morning Jenny came in mooing loudly—she couldn’t find her calf. I saw Papa trying to get another cow and her calf to come in, and I assumed that Ella had her calf. It was dark outside at 5:45, so it was hard to tell what was going on. I went to see if Papa needed any help, but he said that the cow and calf were finally in the field. I asked him if Ella had her calf, and he said “No, there are only two calves—Jenny’s and Sally’s”. He couldn’t figure out why one of the cows was mooing though. I grabbed my flashlight and went to look at the two calves that came up. Sally’s has two white spots on her forehead, and Jenny’s has one white spot and a white tail. I found the calf with the white tail—but it was hanging out with Ella, and Jenny was still mooing. I lifted the tail and looked between the legs and saw that this calf with one white dot on the forehead and a white tail was a girl—not a boy! That meant that Ella had given birth to a calf that looked just like Jenny’s, but one was a girl and the other was a boy. Mom went and told Papa that Jenny was screaming because her calf was missing—we were supposed to have three calves, not two. Papa went looking and found Jenny’s little bull calf in the Murray grey (beef cows) field—very hungry. Papa gave him a free ride in the golf-cart and dropped him off at his mama’s feet. He headed straight for her udder and ate his breakfast.
I hope you have a great week—I must go help Mom put the new laying hen chicks to bed. This batch isn’t too smart.
Serving you with Gladness,
Tiare