April 1, 2009
High Button Shoe
the farm update
Lemon Poppy Seed update
Simply Primitives update
.....it's snowing. Again. Or
should I say yet? I wait all winter for the calendar to switch to April.
Why I do this, I have no idea.
The change of the calendar
month does not change Michigan weather. An hour ago the winds were
howling, blowing flat out, with snow so hard it was difficult to see Beu's
house from my window. It clung to the ground for a while and is now melted
off again.
Ah, spring, I need you so bad
this year!
I have been watching my tulip
bulbs sprouting in the flower garden, and covered them all with terra
cotta pots and metal pails last week before THAT heavy groundcover snow we
had on Sunday, trying to keep them from a tinge of frost. They are still
covered.
Unless of course, this strong
wind has blown some off. I suppose I should go out and check that out.
Note to self: go check out the flower pots today. I need to do that
anyway, as I am on a mission again. One I don't relish doing. Yesterday we
discovered
as we opened the front door
that a mole was burrowing under the paver blocks and they looked like an
earthquake had gone under the front walkway, bringing each paver over his
path up into odd positions. So we were off to Tractor Supply to pick up 4
more LARGE cans of Mole Patrol, which is pretty good at killing off the
varmit. Ron got all the pavers back in place and the ground all pelted
back down, and 'fed' the mole hole. So far today he hasn't shown his
telltale path of raised up dirt, that I can see. But then as I mentioned
it is snowing like a bugger, so who can see? I will be quite beside
myself IF he finds his way to my 100 tulips!
This is war!
While in Tractor Supply, I
noticed coming in the entry door a big sign, that the chicks are there.
Ah, the chicks! Nothing quite so endearing as the huge open metal
containers of the tiny new born chicks. All peeping, and running around.
Stepping over each other. Some sleeping in large clumps together. Ron can
hardly tear me away from these babies. We have 'discussed' chickens
before. I want a rooster. A rooster that crows. He reminds me that unless
I buy a rooster from somebody, I start with chicks. Which would absolutely
delight me, except for the fact that we are not set up for chickens. We
have a chicken coop you know. But that term is used like the rye field
that doesn't always have rye in it, yet we continue to call it that
because we always know which field we are talking about. The chicken coop
is called so, because it housed chickens decades ago. No chickens for
many, many years. And he has taken it over for a work shop. I don't
suppose he would like chicken poop on all his spotlessly clean cement
floors and his band saw and such. No, I suppose not. So we would have to
build some type building for the chickens to be in, along with a fenced in
area. And while small critters the fenced in area, would have to have a
fence top on it, to keep the
marauding hawks from snatching
them. And to keep fox and coyote out. So my project gets more
complicated. All I want is a dumb rooster. One that crows. Ron, the old
farmer, me the human who lives on a farm but is not a farmer from birth,
tells me that roosters are notoriously mean. Especially if they don't have
hens. Well, I can understand that.
I also want my chickens to
free range. Which means I will have chicken poop in the yard to deal
with. But I have
dealt with wild turkey poop in
the yards for years and that poses no particular problem to me. One does
get used to prying turkey poop out of your shoe bottoms after a while.
The baby chicks and ducks they
had were just adorable. Some troughs they had up on armpit high tables,
and the troughs were only about 12 inches high. I could stand and peer
over the rim to see the babies and talk to them. Like my new born baby
turkey of a few summers ago we had in a box in the kitchen for a few
hours, as soon as I would peer over the trough rim and talk to them, they
would rush over, strain their tiny necks up to me, and talk. Some jumped
up at me or scampered about on tiny spindle legs. Others ignored me
completely. I am totally in love with these chicks! But I did come home
empty handed. Nothing is built to house them. And the supplies to be ready
for them would surely out weigh in cost, the benefits of fresh eggs.
Again, the farmer tells me, "What are you going to do with all those
eggs?" Like his gardens of past years, we could probably feed the entire
county on my egg 'crop'.
This might be an appropriate
time to also mention that I don't eat 'chicken' eggs. I eat eggs bought in
the store, packaged in styrofoam. A farm chicken egg looks and tastes
different. The farmer tells me my taste buds are warped from years of
eating
store eggs. Yet, I
prefer store eggs to chicken eggs.
Then of course, there is the
snow! It is cold. I suppose I could have the chickens in a box in the
house, but I didn't approach Ronnie about that. No sense in complicating
my life about chickens. Besides I am thinking that Fritz the Anaconda,
resident barn yard snake, is probably thawing out from where ever he holed
up for winter and my summer will be spent chasing him around. Or he, me.
Which ever the case may be.
And Ronnie, tells me I will be
learning how to drive the new tractor. Yah, right! The one with all the
switches and buttons. I suppose it might not be a bad idea for me to sit
one day with the manual and familiarize myself with some of them. Just to
be somewhat informed and all. But then I also bought a new deep fryer
yesterday, after finding the gauge on my old one would not move to any
position except its stuck.. off, so in a fit of frustration threw it in
the trash. And today after taking the new one from the box, but not
reading the manual yet, (who needs to read a manual to work a deep
fryer??) (apparently me!) as I can' t figure out how to get the lid open.
Godfrey! I think I will be busy enough just trying to get my summer garden
going, and staying one step ahead of Fritz, so perhaps will rethink baby
chickens for another year. Probably a good thought.
It occurred to me, as I was
fiddling with the fryer lid, that by the way, is solidly SHUT, that it
would not surprise me if the dumb
thing didn't have to be
programmed! It seems to me everything I buy in the past couple years has
to be programmed. I am
not program-able.
Update on haircut. It is still
short. I had hoped for a major growth spurt. But alas, I see none. My
eyebrows however still look nice.
I am paying particular
attention to eyebrows lately. I know. What's with that? But probably
because left alone, mine would grow across my face like a big long one
pieced fuzzy caterpillar, I watch eyebrows. So if by chance you see me
looking at you particularly, it's the eyebrow thing. Ignore it.
Update on the rosemary. I have
moved it back into the living room in front of the french doors, until
probably JULY when we may get some warm weather and it will move out onto
the porch. Glory named her rosemarys Amasa and Boone. As everything on
this
farm is named, I am
contemplating a name for rosemary. Well, I guess not everything is named,
as I haven't named the bear.
Unless, of course, you
consider the derogatory names. But those probably aren't very good names.
We released new things today
on LPS and SP. Please check them out on the links provided below. Also of
interest is
And I would encourage
you to read daughter Beulah's blog
www.onestillframe.blogspot.com I think
her photographs and words are amazing. She shows more pictures of the
farm, her house (which is my former house), and pictures into her soul. I
have said it before, but it bears repeating, Beu is one of my best works.
We are still selling the
Country Sampler magazine House Tours, The farmhouse CD, the spring grass,
bags of raw flax, and
some antique smalls, along
with some of my own collections of folk art.
Thanks for asking to be a part
of our farm and life.
Should you decide not, merely
reply with remove and it will be promptly taken care of.
in fond regard,
Tilda
waiting for spring
waiting for garage sale signs
waiting for my hair to grow
out