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.