This is a picture of my brother, Mike, taking a ride with my grandfather on his riding lawn mower. You might be able to tell from the look on Mike's face... getting the chance to drive such a machine was a thrill for us. I must have only been two or three at the time, but I got my chance to 'drive' the mower as well. I remember my brothers jumping in front of the path of the mower, acting like I would run them over. And I remember steering it straight into the hedge.

Sometimes I can hardly believe that my kids are getting the chance to experience such wonderful things as well. After a small amount of begging on the kids' part, I started letting Finley and Joe 'drive' me around The Funny Farm. Finley was the first to have the chance. We set off down the driveway to check the mail, and I had to jerk the steering wheel a couple of times to save us from the wild roses growing along the fence, but soon, she got the hang of it, and I was able to sit back and bask in the aura of excitement and autonomy that was radiating from Finley.

I really enjoy these trips to the mailbox. As I watch the scenery slide slowly by, I am reminded of The Straight Story, one of my favorite movies, and I am tempted to let Joe drive right past the mail box and keep on going. But I don't think my Craftsman would make it very far.

The Funny Farm has suffered its first loss...

This morning about 11 am, Goldie passed away after succumbing to botulism.

The funeral will be held later this afternoon after an appropriate place for burial is determined.

Known by Finley as our most beautiful chicken, Goldie will be missed.

I just overheard Finley asking Joe to help clean up a mess he didn't make. "Of course!" he said.



He's been doing that a lot: answering a request to pick up toys or help in some way with a cheerful "of course!" And every time it puts a little bit of joy in my spirit.




Joe loves to help, and has an amazing work ethic, especially when he's helping Dad. One day, Chris went to pick up some bricks. When he went to unload them from the back of the truck, Joe wanted to help. Finley and Joe picked up the bricks and moved them to the side of the truck where Chris could reach them easily and restack them on the ground. Finley bailed after ten minutes or so. Joe stuck with it until the end. Not long after that, I bought Joe some little 'work glubs' like Chris's, and he'll put them on whenever there's work to do outside.

I forgot to mention that duck disappeared about two weeks ago. We couldn't find any evidence of a crime scene, and the neighbors said their dogs hadn't brought home any duck pieces, so we are hoping he just decided to find some place less stressful to live.

The chickens are doing fine. I still only have the two that are laying good eggs, but that is plenty for us for now, as we haven't gotten into the habit of eating them regularly.

I was rather pleased with myself when I realized I could rake up the hay left from bush-hogging to use for the bedding in the coop. The first small pile I obtained in flip-flops with the wheelbarrow. (I don't recommend working in flip-flops as a rule, although I find myself doing it frequently and usually end up regretting it.) As I raked I thought of the old-school days when there were actual haystacks that people burrowed into to escape blizzards.

I quickly realized the wheelbarrow was not the most efficient way of carting hay, so the next time I endeavored to gather some hay, I donned shoes and pulled out a tarp. After raking the hay onto the tarp, I towed it to the stable with my mower.

They say pride comes before a fall. I was so pleased with myself that I decided to take my mower on a little adventure and attempt to mow a nice go-cart track through the north fields. I didn't go far before a hidden rock caught a blade, the force of which sheared the metal piece that held the blade to the mowing deck. Oops.

Thankfully, I was able to drive it back to the shop. We decided the deck wasn't worth fixing, so the next day, Chris removed the mowing deck, and I still have a nice little work tractor. Chris had mounted a hitch ball to the back, and the previous owners left a nice little wagon with a tilting bed that I can tow behind. All we had to do was fix the flat tires.

This morning, I counted six wild turkeys wandering around the property. I can see some of them now, strutting along the fence line. I suppose we could have a nice Thanksgiving dinner if I knew what to do with a dead bird.

Look who picked out her own outfit today...

When Chris was cleaning around the garage last week, he found this salamander. It's the biggest I think I've ever seen.

Sunday was the celebration of Fin and Z's birthdays. I made Finley's cake per her instructions: a strawberry shortcake (I made a white layer cake with strawberries between the layers), pink with white along the edge and a flower on top. Then I made chocolate cupcakes with chocolate frosting for Z. I am proud to say that for the first time, I made everything from scratch. No nasty, indeterminable-shelf-life, artery-clogging frosting this time. (And to make baking/decorating day less stressful, I had made the frosting the day before.)

After cake and ice cream, the kids played pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey and had a 'treasure hunt'. The treasure hunt consists of a series of clues that are hidden all over the place, telling where the next clue is. It is quite funny to see the kids get really excited and run like mad all over the place, even if they aren't quite sure where they are supposed to be going. This treasure at the end of this hunt was a Sponge Bob pinata (where's the squiggle n?) hanging in the garage. I had hoped to get the unicorn pinata I saw at the store, but somebody bought it out from under me. But, in the end, I got a whole lot of satisfaction watching SB's face get smashed in.

Unfortunately, Joe smashed his head on the corner of some furniture during pin-the-tail, but he bounced right back and enjoyed posing for pictures of the knot on his head.

Today, we I took the girls for their check-up to their pediatrician up in Nashville. It was probably our last visit to him, though. I don't want to drive an hour to see the doc. I hope I can find a convenient and reliable place to take the kids close to home. When Z and Fin came down with ear infections last week, the closest clinic told me they could schedule them for two days later, so I ended up taking them to a walk-in a half hour away (where we waited nearly two hours to see the doc). The office in Nashville was always able to schedule us in same day if I called early enough. (That's good management, if you ask me...) Anyway.

I suppose I ought to go out and lock up the chickens. Thankfully, I remembered to chase them off the top of the chicken tractor before it got dark. When I forget, it's a little like trying to get a drunk guy that's passed out on the stairs into bed (I guess)... They are hard to wake up and keep falling back asleep before they make it inside the coop, and it's not so easy to shove them inside the coop through the tractor's little door.

Pass the Pacifier, PLEASE.

About a week ago, I was putting Zivah to bed. I kept handing her her blue pacifier, and she kept grabbing it and throwing it across the room, crying, "Noooooo!" I couldn't find her orange one anywhere, and was a bit flummoxed as to why she was suddenly becoming picky about her colors. Upon closer inspection, I noticed a tear in it, and threw it away. Thankfully, we found the orange one, and everyone was happy.

Two days ago, I noticed a tear in the remaining orange pacifier. Perhaps it was time to break her of them. I threw it away, and when bedtime came, we had a distraught little one on our hands. She finally fell asleep nestled between Chris and me, and Chris managed to move her back to her bed without waking her.

At 2 a.m., we awoke to wailing and gnashing of teeth. A nearly inconsolable Z ended up back in our bed where she managed to drift off to sleep once again. The morning found a rather grumpy almost two year old. I emailed Chris and asked him to buy her a new pack of pacifiers. The joy on her face when she examined the new ones was obvious.

Last night, with a contended Z and the cat banished to the garage for the night, I managed to get a decent night's sleep for the first time in a week. Aaaah. Life looks so much better today.

Gracing the garage this morning...

... a luna moth.

Spent the weekend taking down more fencing. There were several big fence posts to take out, and the two foot deep holes revealed a promising amount of topsoil.

Just need to cut down the stump from the osage orange, and we will have the place cleared. I am dreaming up garden plans to put in the area between the trailer and the pond.

I have been wrestling a bit with balance between raw nature and man's footprint that tends to erase the natural. I love that, although most of our place is cleared for pasture, a few stands of trees remain untouched (thanks due to the unruly rocks and sink holes that made them un-farmable). Whenever I see gardens with cubed shrubbery and perfectly manicured paths, I can't help but think that some one got it wrong. Hopefully, the gardens I help to create on this bare canvas of ours will be a good balance.

Fin and Z are fighting ear infections. With all the runny noses and bugs we've been fighting, I can't help but think this mildewy trailer has something to do with it. And I found a cockroach under the shampoo bottle in the shower this morning. The romantic notions I had about 'roughing it' in a trailer while we built our new home are being put in their proper place. Not that I regret our move for one second.

Saturday was spent organizing the house and garage a bit. Not much fun, but necessary. There are fewer boxes cluttering our lives now.

Reanna worked off and on all day in the blazing sun to dig a fire pit after I started on it in the morning and quickly gave up decided I had better things to do. I was impressed.

Sunday, I went to bush-hog for a bit, and coming around a corner next to some trees, found I couldn't steer the tractor and almost met with an accident. (It just now occurs to me that I didn't have the kill switch in mind. That might be helpful.) When I was finally able to pull out, I saw that one of the front tires was flopping back and forth. A careful drive back up to the shop, and Chris noticed that the steering link was loose and sliding up on the spindle (did I get my terminology right?) He knocked it down into place and tightened it back up.

The rest of the 4th was quiet (as the kids were on the mend from colds). We did top it off with some fireworks for amusement.

Yesterday, we started to take down some fencing and the huge osage orange monstrosity that sat between the trailer and the pond. People actually buy the hedge apples the shrub(?) produces as it supposedly repels insects and spiders. Our local extension agent was quoted as saying that they are "one of the most worthless plants in the world". I guess 'one man's trash is another man's treasure'.

Early last week, I walked outside to a loud buzz and noticed big green beetles (green June bugs?)flying all over the place. Yesterday, Chris found this one that had apparently flown into a barb.


And now for the official introduction to the hens.

Elizabeth, a Rhode Island Red, is in the foreground. She is the consistent layer of the bunch. And in the absence of a rooster, she wears the pants, it seems. I love to hear her. She sounds a bit kung-fu with her 'rrrrrrraaa'. Behind her is Granny, a Silver Lacewing.


This is Fluffy, one of the Polish hens. (Finley named her.)

And this is Pluck, the other Polish hen that I think is our other consistent layer.

And this is Goldie (also named by Finley). She is an Aracauna.

Spent a good hour on the tractor last night after supper bush-hogging. The thought occurred to me that you don't really know your land until you've been over it a few times on a tractor, and even then, you don't really know it. I was surprised to find large sections of land without a single rock. Then here or there, a rock would jump up and catch my blades, and I would wonder what that rock looked like beneath the surface.

The area across from the pond was free of rock, and if I read my soil map correctly, it might be a really good place to plant some fruit trees. Our vision of the place is shaping up.

Tuesday, after putting the chickens through the stress of the move, two of them actually laid an egg. Yesterday, I decided to try to move the chicken tractor a bit to give the chickens fresh ground to pick at, and one of them escaped under the end as I lifted it up. I tried to calmly 'chase' her back into safety, but she wouldn't go for it. Thankfully, the neighbor's dogs didn't visit. One egg yesterday.

One chicken came to us with a name. Finley and I named three more. We are debating the name of the fifth. Chris asked me if we were planning on eating any of these. I looked at him in shock. There is something too personal about these chickens. They have too much of a story. And, really, once you've named them... Personification of an animal kills the desire to use that animal for food. (Pun intended.) When we end up with more chickens in the future, I will discourage further naming.