"...she laughs at the days to come."

She doesn't laugh because she thinks the future will be happy-funny. She laughs because she is strong enough to pursue her dreams, knowing full well that life will throw all kind of obstacles in her way, and the only way to get through those obstacles without feeling completely overwhelmed and discouraged is to find it funny.

Take today for example.

I had the idea that I would take the kids and the chainsaw on my lawn-tractor/wagon setup down the road to quickly whack down some woody brush that was growing up in the fencing. First, I added some bar and chain oil to the chainsaw, spilling a bit, then added the gas/oil mix. I then spent the next twenty minutes trying to get the thing started. It sounded agonizingly close to starting. Just one more pull, I kept thinking. Until I realized a small blister was forming on my hand and my arms were feeling so rubbery I was in danger of dropping the saw.

Of course I couldn't let the fact that I couldn't get the chainsaw started ruin my fun, so I packed up the handy battery-powered reciprocating saw into the wagon, along with a trash bag and pick-stick to pick up some trash. With Z sandwiched between me and Joe, I started the tractor and Joe steered up the drive to the spot I wanted to clear.

First, we walked the further up the drive to where beer cans and bottles littered the ground beneath the trees. Everything went smoothly aside from the tantrum Z threw when she got tired of walking.

Then back to the tractor where I cut down a few saplings growing in the fence line. The reciprocating saw worked fantastically for this, and was probably a whole lot easier to handle than the chainsaw for such light work.

The wagon was full, so we were about to head back... but I couldn't get the tractor started. So I pushed the tractor out of the drive, then proceeded to get hair and clothing caught in blackberry brambles. I was thankful to have my gloves on.

Then the walk back. Arms still rubbery, I had to carry a tired toddler all the way back to the house, struggling not to drop her growing, chunky body.

And so I have the choice to get frustrated or to laugh.

And that's why we call it The Funny Farm.

The hummingbirds have moved on to spend the cool season somewhere warmer.

Weather Whiplash

My parents were here last week to visit the Funny Farm and experience a little bit what life is like down here in Marshall County. For most of their stay, we had unseasonably warm weather (temps in the mid-nineties). Mom and I ventured outside a few times to walk the property and shred some dry, dusty leaves, and Dad did get to meet Buford, the neighbor's donkey. But since the heat was a bit too oppresive for their taste, we had a lot of indoor visiting time.

Now that they are back up in Nashville for the rest of their Tennessee stay, we are experiencing some beautiful fall weather.

Yesterday, I did a little work in the stable. The new pile of hay I had brought in the day before was already getting demolished by Elizabeth and her co-conspirators, so I decided to put a stop to it. I tacked one end of some three foot fencing to a wall post, and pulled it tight around the neatened hay pile. [I can't in good conscience call it a haystack... I know there is a way they used to stack hay to encourage water shed, but I don't know how they did it.] It will take extra effort from the chickens to strew about any more hay.

Before working on the hay pile, I cleaned out the second stall. Joe helped shovel up old hay and horse manure that then made its way to the compost pile. While I worked on the hay situation, the kids played in the newly 'cleaned' space. Living out here, it a good thing I'm not a germaphobe. I really hope there isn't some weird disease the kids can pick up from rolling around in dried, ground-up horse poo and decomposing hay. But really, I figure exposure to such a natural environment will only strengthen the immune system.

Last Night's Catch

Need to figure out the best way to dispose of this freeloader. I don't suppose possums are good eating, so my plan is to release him a few miles away near the state park. Chris hinted at another plan, but I don't think the rest of us will go for it.

Turns out lumber companies are not so excited to spend a lot of time helping you figure out what and how much lumber you'll need if they know you will be comparing prices with other companies. So right now, instead on starting the daunting task of getting together a lumber take-off while the kids entertain themselves, I am writing this post.

Finley is staying home from school today. She came home yesterday with a low-grade fever and a headache, and woke up with the same this morning. So I opted to let her stay home instead of suffering through a day at school.

I forgot to mention the strange noises we were hearing at night. Turns out an opossum discovered Dragon's leftover food on the deck and was making nightly visits to finish off anything he hadn't eaten. It would then crawl up and dance on the roof above our bedroom in order to wake us up at odd hours. So one night, we heard a disturbance on the back porch, and went out to see what we could do about it. We chased the possum around a bit in our jammies until we managed to corner it while Chris attempted to slam a big trash can over the poor animal. It must have been really funny to watch. I don't know what we would have done if we had captured it in the trash can, but when it started to fight back and lash out at Chris's bare feet, he gave up. He was later told he should have kicked it, because the possum might have played dead. Maybe next time if we have shoes on.

Eggs. One of my favorite ways to eat eggs is hard-boiled. Here, I run into a problem. Fresh eggs do not peel well. I imagine that I would have to let the eggs sit for a month or more (like grocery store eggs) in order to get them in a condition where they would be good to hard-boil. Oh, the trials we face.

Update on Jane (our rabbit): Last weekend, we decided to put rocks over the burrow Jane was digging to prevent any real escape attempts. Tuesday night, when Chris put her back in her hutch, he checked the hole and could barely touch the end of the burrow. On Wednesday, Jane started to fill the burrow back in.


The block layers finished the foundation on Wednesday. Now we have to figure out exactly how proceed from here. When talking to the inspector about our plan to lay the floor, I found out he wouldn't have approved, and to fix what we were going to do would have been expensive. So now we have to rethink things a bit. Really, we just need to make a habit of calling the inspector and going over every little detail to make sure we won't make any mistakes.

The past few nights, I've been waking up in the middle of the night only to lie awake thinking about construction. Yuck.

Much of the grass in the pastures is going to seed. I love to see the tiny flowers throw a muted haze of purple above the grass.

Our chicken, Pluck, is molting. Her feathers are easily found all over the yard. She looks like she was chewed up and spit out. I am just glad that the bare spot on her back will finally have a covering again soon.

The pond is leaking. A little internet research revealed that the 3-4 weeks of dry weather we had and subsequent drying of the pond probably caused the bottom to crack in places. Any rain we get seems to soak right into the ground, now, leaving the shallow end dry. If we had any livestock, the animals would probably be able to pack the ground back down enough to hold water again... But since we're not ready for livestock, we might try to throw some leaves in this fall to help create a seal.

Fresh reminders of my inadequacy makes me thankful to live this life covered by grace.

Two Bags of Sand

Did you know that it is only going to take two bags of sand to lay the block for the foundation of our house? I thought that was strange. Until I saw the bags of sand.

The block layers are here today... In a few hours, they will have the foundation laid. What would have taken us a week (or more) is only going to take less than a day's work for the pros.

This is a bag of sand. A one-ton bag of sand.

Jane Update

If she decides to dig up, she's out in a matter of minutes, I'd guess. What to do? I'm having too much fun watching her progress, but we really don't want to lose her to the wild world outside...

The Not-So-Great Escape

I don't know if she thinks she's being clever, but she's not. She could have at least put the hole behind the bush where it wouldn't be so obvious.

Anyway, Jane has diligently been trying to dig her way out of her new little play yard. Perhaps she feels more like a prisoner of war than I suspected, or perhaps she thinks we plan to eat her some day. We don't. But I don't know how to tell her that, and I don't know how to communicate that she probably wouldn't survive in the 'wild' for long.

Still, I haven't had the heart to put a stop to her attempt yet. She definitely has made it under the fence, but I am a little curious to see how soon she will try to angle up with her digging, or if she is intent on making a real sort of burrow. Stay tuned for updates.

I might be able to do algebra and trig, but I can't count.

So today I decided to map out on the print of the house where the guy put the footings for the piers to start figuring what sort and how much lumber we need.

Nine feet, then eight, then nine... Something didn't seem right.

And then I realized what I had done. Somewhere in my brain, I had in my head that we were building a house 36 feet deep, but the print is only 32 feet deep. Oops. Guess I'll be reworking the print a bit.