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Hi Everyone,

In Genesis 8:22 God promises that . . . “While the earth remaineth, seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease.” I do believe that we are seeing this promise fulfilled all around us. Tomorrow is March 1st—what I consider to be the official first day of SPRING! AS we traveled to church this morning there were flowers and new green leaves everywhere. The redbuds, azaleas, Japanese Magnolias, hog plums, phlox, and a yellow flowering vine were in full bloom everywhere. I do believe that some of the wild cherry trees were starting to turn light green as their new leaves begin to burst out. When we drove past the river we noticed that the ground was covered with little white lily like flowers—I think that it is bloodroot, and when it blooms I KNOW that SPRING is HERE! The flowers on the farm are starting to bloom also. The yellow Tete-a-Tete jonquils—miniature daffodils are blooming, and everyday more open. The stocks are starting to bloom in the garden, and the other day I was able to pick the first stock and use it to make the first “real” flower bouquet of the season. The center flower was of course the magenta colored stock, around it I filled in with the magenta, pink and white dianthus, clover flowers, dried love-in-a-mist seed pods, and a unique weed that has little white flowers at the top of its stem, with heart shaped leaves going down the stem. Yes, I am enjoying spring.

Behind the feed room and alongside the sidewalk by the milk house we have a bed of wild orange lilies that my Grandpa and I dug up together many years ago. They have multiplied greatly—maybe they like the water from washing the milking equipment every day.  A couple of months ago—before the freezes caused them to go dormant, the ducks found the water and made a mess of the lilies. I was not happy, and planned on fencing them in as soon as I could. The “around to it” finally arrived on Friday and Steve helped me cut long skinny apple branches and chestnut branches. Then mom and I spent the afternoon wattling. We cut the larger branches into over a dozen 2 foot long stakes. Once they were buried into place we began to weave the thin branches in and out between the stakes. In the end we have a cute little one foot high fence that will hopefully do its job—keep the ducks out of the flowers!

The greenhouse is slowly filling up with seed trays. The Roselle, celosia flowers, and lettuce have already sprouted. I am waiting on the China Asters, balsam, cayenne, and paprika to sprout. I think that I saw one of the peppers starting to peek out of the soil today. The greenhouse is also housing the garden plants that do not enjoy cold weather—like the fig trees and bay trees. Of course we have some dianthus and pansies that were bought for the garden, but I am enjoying their blooms in the green house. We also have about a dozen strawberry plants growing in a clay strawberry pot—hoping that since the strawberries will be hanging in the air we will be able to eat them instead of the roaches and worms. I will say though that it is hard to keep the strawberry pot watered—for it dries out fast. Last Sunday night I found something of a different kind in the greenhouse. When I came back from doing the evening chores I saw Catapus running back and forth on top of the greenhouse roof—which is made of nothing more than a clear plastic sheet. Catalina was intently looking in the door and front wall of the green house. I walked over and shined my light inside and spotted a teeny, tiny little bird. I think that it was a vireo. I figured that if I left it in the greenhouse the cats would destroy the roof with their claws. I carefully slipped in the door so as not to let Catalina in with me. Then I spent the next 15 to 20 minutes trying to catch the little birdie. Once my mission was accomplished I took it inside to show Mom, and then I went out the front door and way out to the edge of the front yard—way away from the cats, and opened my hand. Before a second was up it had taken flight and disappeared into the night.

For the last couple of weeks a new milking parlor has been being assembled on our carport—and I do mean assembled because it is made of metal and each piece has had to be welded together. The majority of the work was finally done on Tuesday and they were ready to move it to its temporary location so that we could milk in it while they demolished the old milking parlor and poured the concrete for the floor of the new milking parlor. Right now the milking parlor is 8 ft. x 8 ft. of a metal pipe structure with a 20 ft. x 16 ft. roof on it. The back feed room will be built of rough cut wood—once it is moved onto the concrete, because it is heavy enough with just the roof on it. The parlor needed to be moved out to pasture though, and the first one was done by putting it on long heavy duty PVC pipes. They hooked a chain to the parlor and then attached it to the tractor. Papa drove the tractor, while Travis, Timothy and Peter Crane directed the parlor and kept the pipes swapped from the back to the front. It took an hour and a half to accomplish the feat, and everyone was exhausted when it was done—including us bystanders who watch the nail biting experience from a far. I was so glad that I was just watching for the process was too fast for me, and they had to constantly make sure that their feet and hands were out of the way. It was 6:00 at night when they finished—so it was too late to move the second one. Papa had an idea though—they could weld some skids to the frame so that they could just drag it without the pipes. So first thing Wednesday morning two skids were welded to the frame and in fifteen minutes Papa had the second parlor moved out to pasture. The rest of the day was spent getting things ready to start milking in the new parlors the next day.

Thursday morning dawned bright and warm, but before we could milk—the air hoses needed hooked up, the vacuum machine needed electricity to it, hooks needed to be screwed into place to hold the buckets and milking claws, and the hot wire fencing needed to be moved. We finished setting up around 10:30, and by the time we got all our milking equipment in place and the cows brought in it was 11:00 before we could start milking. We were ready to milk—but the cows were not ready to be milked. Cows hate change—may I ask “Who likes change?” The cows said that a new place, metal instead of wood, and grass instead of concrete were plenty of things to fear. Each cow needed to be coaxed in, and very few actually ate all of their alfalfa. They stuck around just as long as they had too—for those who didn’t need to be milked; it wasn’t very long at all. Those who had to stay around longer, had to deal with fear longer, and when a cow becomes afraid—they go poo, and poo, and poo. The first poo is usually solid, then mushy, and then very watery. Many times Moises would be catching the poo from one cow, when another cow would start going and its poo would be missed. May I say that it was a pretty stressful morning all around? It was 1:30 when we finished milking. Lunch was not eaten as a family—but one by one as you found the time to sneak inside to fix you something. The rest of the day was spent finishing some last minute touches, and tweaking a few things on the new parlor.

Friday the cows came in a little better, Honey still had to be dragged in with a rope. By Saturday they all came in much better—and today Honey practically ran in. Some still need a little coaxing, but they are eating all of their food again. Friday was also demo day. While some of the wood began to disappear on Thursday, a whole lot more disappeared on Friday. I expect it all to be down by tomorrow night—and then they can begin cleaning out the muck, and shaping the land for the concrete. It is coming along, and I look forward to seeing it all finished. When it is all finished I will share the adventure with you—for our talented videographer is doing his best to capture as much as he can and turn it into a little video showing our “Rags to Riches Milking Parlor.”

We have been eating greens out of the garden all winter—but Friday I found the first asparagus spear. I thought about sharing it with Mom, but since it only has one flower top I couldn’t figure out how to fairly share it—I ate the whole thing. I told Mom that she could eat the second one, and it should be ready by tomorrow. When the asparagus first starts to sprout there is never enough for a meal, and we end up eating them fresh in the garden.

Serving you with Gladness,

Tiare