Seems my blogs have become a picture page since I have become so busy! Often when I'm in the middle of doing something, I have a fleeting thought, musing or idea that I want to write about. By the time I get in front of the computer, it's gone. le sigh. I'm going to quit "just posting pictures" on this blog. If I can't sit down and write something I've been pondering, experiencing or planning, I'll just send you over to the picture pages
Sometimes you can see what I'm up to there, sometimes you will find random pictures.
If only I could download my thoughts and have them type themselves... or not. Some of them are disturbing. ;-)
Quick rundown of my little bubble of existence:
I have a farmers tan, and my neck is white.
I am sore from head to toe.
I'm lovin' the bees, chickens, quail & gardening.
The KIDS love the bees, chickens, quail & not so much the gardening. haha
Ember wants to "help" and we all know that means dumping out all the peas, eating a handful, pulling the tomatoes up by the tops and swinging them wildly about, chasing cats through the newly planted beds, screaming to get in the chicken run, eating chicken feed, dumping out all the water, dragging through chicken poo, rattling the quail pen, pulling wet clothes out of the bin and dump them on the ground as I try to hang them, pick all the grape hyacinths, plays with the bees, tries to climb the beehive, demanding "momma milk" RIGHT NOW when I'm up to my ears in compost and other basic "Emberizing".
Sagan is a huge help when she's not reading her new favorite genre of teen-angster vampire romance novels & manga. Or setting up pulley systems in the cherry tree. Or intricate villages beneath it. Or marching in support of IMPORTANT CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE ACTS.
She is going to start volunteering for a playschool soon, she wants to help work with the kids.
As far as Mark; I don't know if he likes farming or not. He's hauled compost. He's tilled ground. He's shoveled $#!+. If he doesn't like farming, he must like SOMETHING around here. I'm pretty sure it's not my cooking. ;-)
I don't know if I mentioned it, but we have a skunk living under the shed. I've only seen it once, and we have all smelled it on several occasions. Pretty peaceful co-existence so far. We don't have a dog. That is a plus. We close up the chickens at night, that is a plus. I built a new, covered compost, that should help. Skunks are beautiful, but I will assure you from first hand experience, that the smell must wear off. No amount of washing, soap, vinegar, baking soda, eggs, buttermilk and sandpaper will remove it. I know a few other things about skunks:
Dogs LOVE skunks.
There IS a point when little cute baby skunks with very little smell
become JUST as cute adolescent skunks with very capable and active scent shooter.
Take note of the differences. Important information.
ANYWAY... skunks are cute and are actually beneficial critters (as they all are) to have around a place, if you keep your own things dealt with. The cats seem smart enough and stay away.
They eat bugs and grubs and baby rats and mice. Friend, not foe, just leave her alone. I can't wait to "happen upon" (in the most distant and respectful way) baby skunklets in the next month or so!
I've got wall o waters and cold frames up and stuff in the ground, and just waiting on that elusive "frost date" so that I can plant other things too. I have no idea what will grow and what won't. That's why I am planting EVERYTHING. I have to plant the potatoes and decide where the rest of my seedlings are going to go and prepare "Gourd Island" and and and... I'll be getting into the beehive today or tomorrow, and maybe adding another super. They have been busy!
I'm in a constant state of fear that they are going to abscond. No reason other than I don't want my bees to dislike living here.
We made a trip to Wheeler Farm with our friends of the Utah Urban Homesteaders yesterday, where comments like:
"If you go near the creek, you will be rapidly swept downstream."
"That goose has a bump on his head because he's Asian."
"Chickens lay different colored eggs because of what they EAT."
"Do you all know the difference between a chicken and a rooster?"
"Bacon. EVERYBODY loves BACON here, RIGHT?!"
to be very odd indeed. But maybe that's just me. The tour guide didn't even seem to have faith that if the sap of a box elder tree could be tapped and cooked down into syrup, that I myself could do it. No faith these people.
And that's what my bubble looks like this week.
