Joy in the Waves ~ A Cropped Photo

We just returned from an incredible family vacation, our first with our extended family.  My amazing and generous father took both my brother and me, along with our families (and our mom!), on a trip to Hawaii.  There were nine of us all together.

I have oodles of gorgeous photos... Hawaii is such a beautiful place even an amateur like me can take decent pictures!  For fun, I decided to try out a challenge that Jenny at Home Is Where You Start From runs weekly. 

This week she challenges her readers to post a cropped picture.  I am working with a very basic camera so I have built in limitations.  But this was a great opportunity for me to look with a slightly different eye at some of my shots.

In the cropped version the story is my sister-in-law's joy.  She is living in the moment fully, and that energy shows.  I love the movement in the waves.  The strips of color in the water have a stronger impact.

The full shot tells a different story... I feel her emotion, but I also have a sense of perspective, how small she is.  The story feels more about the water:

 

The L.E.N.S. Challenge is new every week; click on Jen's link to join up!

Is it a chicken? Is it a turkey? No, it's a Turken!

Years ago, before we moved to our farm, Farmer Boy and I spent a few weeks studying up on chickens.  I read books, he made a chart, and together we curled up on the couch, slowly leafing through the pages of a chicken hatchery catalog.

There were big chickens and little chickens, meat chickens and egg chickens, white egg layers and brown egg layers.

And there were Turkens.

Turkens are, well, ugly.  They are true chickens, but have a naked neck and look turkey-like, hence the name.  We could not figure out why anyone would want to raise Turkens, when there are scores of beautiful, highly productive chicken breeds.

Fast forward five years.  Extreme drought.  Chickens picked off left and right by coyotes.  Our free-range chicken population was slowly and tragically whittled down to zero.

A friend decided to downsize her chicken operation and offered to sell us some full grown layers for a good price.  We ordered some portable electric poultry netting to create a movable fence, and bought a dozen chickens from her.  They were random breeds; whatever she happened to catch while we were standing there.  And we ended up with one Turken.

Honestly, it was kind of a pity buy.  She asked us if we wanted her, and I felt sorry for her.  So I said yes.  I couldn't imagine someone else actually wanting her.


We were in for a surprise.  Our Turken was gentle and sweet.  She was also smart and brave (for a chicken).  And she ate fire ant eggs.

After a little while she no longer seemed ugly to us.  We loved her, and that made her beautiful. {cue violin strings}

Last spring, when it was time to bring a new family of chicks to the farm, we included five Turkens in our order.  They are all grown up now, strong and healthy, and laying eggs happily.  We love the new Turkens too. 

There may be a special advantage for Turken hens here in Texas.  I expect they are considerably more comfortable than the rest of the girls on a hot August day!

photos  © Patti Brown 2010

Guineas

I have contemplated adding guineas to the farm for six years.  Rumored to be ravenous insect consumers, guineas supposedly even eat fire ants!

But they are loud.  Really loud.  Really really really loud.  At least the guineas on my friend's farm were.  And I could never figure out a way to buy fewer than of 25 of them at a time, which seemed like insect hunter overkill.

No guineas.

And then...

A few weeks ago I had a wild hair to check the farm and garden section of craigslist.  This is not something I do often, mostly because it’s like going to the store without a list.  I put myself in danger of buying something I did not plan to get, and don’t especially need, but suddenly can’t live without.

Sure enough, I found an ad for 14 baby guineas for only $2 each.  This is about as cheap as I can get them from a hatchery, and far fewer than the mandatory 25 minimum.  Suddenly I couldn’t live without guineas.

A quick email query to the Head Farmer, then an email to the seller, and I was committed.  In the good way, as in "I made a commitment."  Not committed to a mental hospital.  Although perhaps...

But I digress.

That afternoon I picked up some unmedicated game bird feed and a cute little special waterer, and drove to pick up the guineas.  Fourteen hopping, trilling, terrified, one week old guineas, in two cardboard boxes.

Guinea chick at one week

Now this is Texas.  Hot.  Dry.   But because I am special, on the night I bought baby birds who need the temperature to be 90 degrees round the clock, the forecast called for lows in the low forties.  And I had loaned our new brooder lamp to a friend. 

Nooooo problem, thinks I.  They will sleep in the tub tonight.
 
Just in case you should find yourself in this predicament, I have, out of the kindness of my heart, prepared detailed instructions.  Be sure to follow them exaaaaaactly.  And take pictures.  Please.  Because I forgot.

First Night :

1. Clean out tub
2. Hunt down old brooder lamp
3. Note spider web inside lamp
4. Clean lamp
5. Unscrew bulb to remove all web (fire hazard!)
6. Jump when large black spider emerges from behind bulb
7. Stare at broken bulb in tub
8. Thank God that bulb didn’t break on your feet
9. Clean tub again
10. Hope for extra bulb in storage
11. Find extra bulb
12. Rest metal crutch across top of tub to support brooder lamp
13. Place cardboard boxes with guineas in tub under light
14. Remember that you only bought one little waterer
15. Fill small metal lids from recycling bin with water and feed
16. Repeat an hour later
17. Repeat
18. Repeat
19. Repeat
20. Tell the guineas to go to sleep already!

First Morning:

1. Wake up to find two soaking wet cardboard boxes, an empty waterer and empty lids.  Those birds can drink!  And spill.  
2. Refill everything
3. Repeat
4. Get caught up in homeschooling.

First Afternoon:

1. Feed and water guineas again
2. Weed whack around brooder
3. Clean out brooder
4. Lay down pine shavings
5. Search for chick feeder
6. Search some more for chick feeder
7. Find countless lost items in fields, shed, barn, shop, laundry room
8. Find no chick feeders
9. Try to retrofit full sized feeder with chicken wire to make it suitable for babies
10. Repeatedly poke self with wire and pinch self with wire clippers
11. Struggle to not say bad words
12. As sun is setting, shout to 13 year old to get smallest chicken waterer from chicken pen.  
13. In the dusky glow, learn from 13 year old that waterer has a leak, rendering it useless without welding. 

Second Night:

1. Give up and go to store and buy new waterer and feeder.  Get extra bulb for heat lamp because bulb breakage seems likely
2. Finally get guineas settled around 10:00pm

Now, really, you can see that things couldn’t have gone better.  Except, well, maybe if I had to change just one teeny tiny thing?  I would have started working on the brooder project in the morning.

Live and learn.

Or not.

By the way, these guinea chicks have a lovely cheeping trill for a song.  Not overly loud, and surprisingly like a song bird.

Guinea chicks at two and a half weeks

Coming out of hibernation

Hi!  

{wave}

Miss me?

Let’s see (counting counting)... it has been about a year and a half since I have posted on this blog.  It wasn’t just neglect.   I made the decision to stop for a while.

But I love to write, and I find myself writing about our farm in my head as I go about my day, so the lure of the written word brings me back to this space.  I read back about the years gone by and marvel at where we have come from.  And I wonder where we are going.  The fact that madcap adventures and farm hilarity seem to dog everything we undertake helps me in my quest for topics, to be sure.

A few months ago I started writing again on a new blog called I’m Becoming Joyful.  Over there I’m writing about the profound changes in my life since embracing the truth about who I am in Christ.  And I’m writing about how God magnifies joy in my life when I serve others.

And here?  Back to writing about the madness!

Thoughts on a Spring Night

Thoughts on a Spring Night (a poem by Mary Duce - my mom!)

It's 9 PM in Texas.
The June bugs have arrived.
They're crashing on our windows
And some of them survived.

They're beating out a rhythm
Of triumph over glass
They simply cannot fathom
They're better off in grass.

Their bodies litter sidewalks
They interrupt my peace
I wish there were a posse
Of June-bug death-police.

Oh why do June bugs come here
In April and in May???
If only they would disappear
Forever go away.

My night-time peace is bothered
By smashing sounds on glass
Don't let these ugly insects
Take kamikazi class.

Now that's a lotta cats!

One day recently, while our little girl and boy cats, er, I mean two boy cats, were at the mobile clinic having their manhood removed, I had the Princess take a slight detour from her normal math curriculum, after she asked why we were having them "fixed".

I set her up with this problem: If a cat gave birth to 5 cats each year, and each of those cats gave birth to five cats each year (and so on), how many cats would there be in 10 years?

Remember, each of the cats has 5 babies each year, so in year 1 there is 1 parent, in year 2 there are 6 parents, in year 3 there are 36, etc. This of course assumes that they are not mating with each other.

And the answer...

110,854,656 cats

110 million cats is a lot of cats. Princess still wishes we could have kittens, but now she understands.

Drought solutions!

Stephen and I are very pleased with ourselves.

This week we have come up with three, yes THREE, ways to cause the skies to rain, even in the most severe drought conditions. If you are not local to us, you may not know that we are in one of the worst droughts in 50 years in our area. Our drought level is rated at "exceptional", the highest (or worst) level.

But, folks, we can help! Each of the following techniques has been independently tested. Yes, that means that we, the Brown family, have caused it to rain THREE times this week!

And here are our scientifically proven methods:

1) Wash the mud room floor. Merely sweeping will not do. It must be washed and gleaming.

2) Transfer the chickens from their cozy, heavy wooden brooder to the lightweight portable hoop house so that they can graze. This one will bring heavy winds as well.

3) Organize an outdoor music event utilizing most of your expensive electrical music equipment. Best to transport the equipment in the open bed of your pickup truck.

I am looking out the window at rain as I write. Thanks, of course, to Stephen's brilliant implementation of #3. Well done, my dear!

Do you think we could get a grant to study this? We could use a few bucks, and with all the economic stimulation going on, well...

Things I have learned this week

1) My husband really likes "bringing home the bacon" the old-fashioned way - starting with a live pig.

2) Homemade sausage is way tastier than store-bought

3) Electric meat grinders are much easier to use than manual. And appallingly more expensive

4) A sharpened Henckels knife from 1993 works better, and is easier to clean, than a meat slicer from 1968.

5) In the time it takes me to google "green slime electric plug" Stephen can rewire the plug on an old meat slicer

6) I like facebook

7) Our cats are both male

8) It is cheaper to neuter male cats than spay female cats

9) It is a nice surprise to save $10 when you go to pay for your cats' surgery

10) I feel like planting when the weather is balmy

11) Six hours later when the temperature has dropped 40 degrees, all I want to do is sit in front of the fireplace.

12) A 2 year old does not intuitively grasp that he should not stick his butter knife in his sock at dinner

13) Coyotes eat their breakfast when we are finishing up ours, at 7:30am. Right outside our window. They prefer chicken for breakfast. Maybe they eat eggs for dinner.

14) A coyote with a chicken in its mouth runs faster than Stephen can walk from his seat to the gun safe

15) Our cats can take down a rabbit that is almost their size.

16) Our cats are very proud of this.

17) Out of respect, our cats may leave us an offering of a rabbit head on the front door mat. If we do not eat it, they will take it away to a suitable location for "burial"

18) Living here can be gross. Oh, I learned that years ago.

Thank goodness for ag science

Happy cows produce more milk.

Imagine. {rolling eyes}

Do you think happy mothers make better cookies? I wonder how much grant money I could get to study that. It would, of course, require cookie testing. Any volunteers?

It Couldn’t Be Done

by Edgar Albert Guest

Somebody said that it couldn’t be done
But he with a chuckle replied
That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one
Who wouldn’t say so till he tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and he did it!

Somebody scoffed: “Oh, you’ll never do that;
At least no one ever has done it;”
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat
And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.
With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure,
There are thousands to point out to you one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you.
But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,
Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing
That “cannot be done,” and you’ll do it.

Out of the mouths of babes

We have a new batch of baby chicks. On the day they arrived I took Little Guy out to see them, after he woke up from his nap. He seemed to have mixed feelings... they were "so cute!" but he wasn't too interested in holding them. Not that I'm complaining; he killed one last time (seriously).

Later that night as I was telling him "The Story of Little Guy's Day", which is part of his bedtime routine, I got to the part about going out to see the chicks.

"So Mama picked up a chick and gave it to Little Guy, who had to be very careful. It was soft and, well, what DID it feel like?"

He looked at me solemnly with those big 2 year old eyes and said "Chicken nuggets."

Kitties

In late October we added two new residents.







The children named them Genesis and Exodus.

This past Sunday, for a Christmas gift, I surprised The Princess with tickets to the musical Cats. We had another happy girls-only outing, this time all the way to San Antonio.



Imagine our surprise when we discovered that the leader of the Jellicle Cats is named Old Deuteronomy! Thus we learned that The Princess (for it was her idea) is a natural at dignified cat naming!

Another new year

The years are flying by faster and faster. How can 2008 be gone already?

Last night, in a happy change of tradition, both Stephen and I were awake past 10:00 on New Year's Eve. We stayed up and watched the ball drop an hour late (the networks delayed the broadcast by an hour for the deprived Central Time Zone folk). We talked about how when we were kids, 2009 seemed like a year that was only possible in the movies. We agreed that the concept of 2000 was so unsettling that we had never really thought past it.

And now here we are nine years past it! On reflection we also agreed that we could never have predicted that our lives would be the way they are, or that we would be the people that we are, when we were teenagers in the 80's.

It was also a moment to reminisce 19 years back, to our first this-is-not-an-actual-date-we-are-just-friends outing to a New Year's Eve party in Newport, RI. I had a terrible crush on Stephen then, but could not tell how he felt about me. I was so nervous I was ready 30 minutes before he came to pick me up! Anyone who knows me knows that this is, well, practically defying the laws of physics.

Alas, another year and a half would pass before we declared our feelings for one another. But you know the story ends happily, and here we are in Texas (surprise #1), married for 15 1/2 years (surprise #2), on our farm (surprise #3), with our 3 beautiful children (surprise #4), whom we homeschool (surprise #5), I am an omnivore (surprise #6), we own guns (surprise #7), and are conservative evangelical Christians (surprise #8). There are more, but I think that's a good start.

Yes, it is a long journey home, but it is never boring, especially with Stephen Brown holding my hand. I do love that man, and pray we will be journeying together for many years to come.

A little color

Here's a burst of sunshine and color from this summer. These are two kinds of watermelon we grew, Yellow Doll and New Orchid:

White food

Recently we were given some store-bought eggs. Yesterday I was baking cookies and pulled the carton of eggs out of the fridge. As I opened it I heard a gasp, and turned to see The Princess with wide eyes, up on tiptoe, saying, "They're SO white! They're completely white!"

It had not occurred to me that she might not have seen white eggs. I suppose the last time we didn't have our own laying hens was almost four years ago, when she was just 3, and even then I usually bought brown eggs.

This reminded me of this past summer, when we had used up all our chickens in the freezer, and I bought some breast meat at the grocery store. Farmer Boy came into the kitchen, looked at it, raw, on a tray waiting to go into the oven, and said "What is THAT?!" He actually did not recognize it as chicken meat. When I told him it was chicken he said, "It's so... white!" Later, when asked for his thoughts, pronounced it, "Gross." He said the texture was what really bothered him. "Sort of slimes down your throat... blech" was the best he could describe the texture. This is the boy whose eyes light up when he hears the word "tongue". Not a picky eater.

Now let me clarify that he ate it (that comment notwithstanding, he is a polite boy), and was not criticizing the cooking. But he could distinguish the vast difference between home-grown chicken and factory-farmed chicken. And he was not impressed.

For Stephen and me, coming from a non-farming background, we have had a similar reaction, but different in its emphasis. Our kids have been surprised by how bland factory food is. We have been amazed by how delicious fresh food is. Animals grown in healthy environments produce tastier eggs and meat. It is that simple.

Veggies just picked from the garden glow with color and flavor. Bread made with freshly ground wheat is tender and moist. Last summer Stephen was the caretaker of a goat dairy farm for a few weeks. He is not normally a milk drinker, but he guzzled that fresh milk!

Because I cook mostly from scratch, I find my taste is now more sensitive to artificial ingredients. It is surprising how few ingredients are needed in a recipe when each ingredient is bursting with flavor because it is fresh.

Obviously this can be expanded almost indefinitely. In the final analysis, the way God made it is the way it is best enjoyed, and best for you.

Fewer and fresher ingredients in our food, our homes, our relationships...

Some older posts to follow

I have not blogged for many months (three I think), but I did occasionally sit down and write a few entries without posting them. Following this you will find a few of those posts with their original dates.

Going to the Opera!

The Princess and I took advantage of a remarkable opportunity yesterday. Austin Lyric Opera opened it's final full dress rehearsal of La Cenerentola (Rossini's Cinderella) to students and teachers, including homeschoolers.

We went out to a lovely dinner at The East Side Cafe (my favorite Austin restaurant, to which I have not been for 3 years). Our dinners even came with flowers on them! Fitting, given the fancy hairdo The Princess made for herself.



Then, with an hour to spare, we went to the Long Center for the Performing Arts. Our extra time allowed us to go the top of the parking garage and enjoy the night skyline. It also permitted us to get amazing seats, since seating was General Admission and we were there when the doors opened. We paid a total of $17 for our tickets. The seats we chose were in the "orchestra prime" area. If we were to go this Saturday, EACH TICKET would cost $126!! $17 vs. $252.

Because it was a dress rehearsal we were told beforehand that there might be stops in the action, and the performers might not always "sing out" (preserving their voice strength for opening night). There were only one or two occasions when the singing was soft, and no interruptions. The singing was amazing, the orchestra stirring, the costumes over-the-top. I was completely overwhelmed.

It was long, and late, so when intermission came and it was close to 9:00 already, I suggested to The Princess that we just head home then. She wanted to stay, and so we did. The 2nd act was even better and we were both so glad we stayed. It was a wonderful evening for two very happy girls!

Freezing milk

Here's why it is a bad idea to freeze milk in a glass jar with rounded shoulders...

Dear doggies

We have lived on our farm for four years now. In that time nine dogs have lived here. They've come to us from people who can't keep their dog any more, strays that have shown up, and some just born here.

Farm life is a happy life for a dog, I think, but it's not a soft life. Our dogs don't sleep on our beds; they're not even allowed in the house, unless there's a terrible storm.

They're expected to work... protecting the animals and farm. Most of them really like to do this. Some have thought the chickens might be quite delicious, but we've managed to limit this somehow.

They run endlessly, play in ponds, get dirty and don't get in trouble, and pretty much live a doggie dream life.

Of course we've had dogs get stepped on by cows and kicked by horses, but the really dangerous thing for dogs here turns out to be cars.

Our house is close to the road, and for reasons I still can not understand, cars are very threatening to the canine mind. Trucks hauling trailers are the ultimate enemy.

We have had three dogs get hit by cars. Two have died. We've also lost dogs in mysterious ways... they've just disappeared. And we've given dogs away.

Molly, Fleck, Fred, Zeke, Belle, Sheila, Pepper, a stray we never named, and Luke. Nine dogs, and we're down to one.

Luke is our only dog now. Dear limping, sad Luke. He really is a good dog, but he's never gotten over being separated from his brother and best friend when he was a year old and brought to live with us. Luke was hit by a car this summer. He has recovered but will always limp.



Recently Luke seems to be cheering up. His solo status actually appears to be a positive for him... he gets all the human attention and doesn't have to argue with anyone over status (although he'd been top dog since right after he arrived).

He's not doing his job very well. We're down to six chickens (from 40 in the summer). Rather a calamitous loss. I believe the coyotes refer to our house as "The Breakfast Club".

Wild Turkeys

Stephen discovered a large flock of wild turkeys (technically called a rafter of turkeys) on our property recently. I was excited because we do not raise turkeys yet, so we still have to buy Thanksgiving and Christmas birds. Wild turkey for Thanksgiving dinner - how fitting!

Unfortunately (for me, not for the turkeys), turkey hunting season is in the spring. Good thing the folks in Plymouth lived before government regulations on hunting. Not that they were unfamiliar with the problems of a heavy-handed government...

Anyway, here are the birds. Ugly but in a really cool kind of way.