Archive for April, 2010

I ain’t sayin’ I was up early but when I opened the chicken coop door this morning the sky was just going pink and rather than the usual tumultuous cluckery and hen-pecking rush, I heard only a few mumbles within.  I went for a long walk to scout for firewood, saw deer, turkey, pheasants, wood ducks, and a great horned owl.  Revisited my pop-up deer blind (failed to retrieve it before the first big snow) and found it perforated by mice.  Upon my return the chickens were out and about.

I’m taking a week to just hang out with my family.  We’re not going anywhere exotic, in fact most days we’re just knockin’ around the farm.  But posts for this week may or may not reflect reality or current events, as I’ve set them up to publish themselves so I can be off splitting firewood or toasting marshmallows or re-inventing myself as the Chicken Whisperer.

Out to collect chicken eggs and shut the coop door the other night after dark and I kept seeing strange sticks lying every which way on the ground.  When I shone the headlamp closer, I discovered they were nightcrawlers.  Thousands of them, all over the yard and the chicken run.  Brought the kids out to see it.  So many we could actually hear them moving…a slimy clicking noise.  The ten-year-old put on her head lamp and went pouncing around trying to catch them.  The worms zip out of sight with surprising speed.

Not sure what the deal is.  It’s been very warm and dry.  I googled a bit, but found nothing satisfactory.  I do know I saw a robin yanking one from the ground the other morning, she was leaned back yanking on that worm just like she’d been drawn by P.D. Eastman.

I’m taking a week to just hang out with my family.  We’re not going anywhere exotic, in fact most days we’re just knockin’ around the farm.  But posts for this week may or may not reflect reality or current events, as I’ve set them up to publish themselves so I can be off splitting firewood or toasting marshmallows or re-inventing myself as the Chicken Whisperer

If, like me, you possess less-than-remedial mechanical skills, you know what a treasure a talented and trustworthy mechanic can be.  For several years now we’ve been turning to a guy named Scott, and he’s never steered us wrong.  Recently he opened his own garage (named after his son) (and yep, I can assure you agnostics are welcome).  This morning I picked up one vehicle and dropped off another, and I noticed Scott was working with the shop door open.  We both agreed it is a fine thing when you can get back to running your wrenches in the open air.  We take spring where we find it.

I’m taking a week to just hang out with my family.  We’re not going anywhere exotic, in fact most days we’re just knockin’ around the farm.  But posts for this week may or may not reflect reality or current events, as I’ve set them up to publish themselves so I can be off splitting firewood or toasting marshmallows or re-inventing myself as the Chicken Whisperer

My friend Jay is an author from Prairie Farm, Wisconsin.  I just found out Jay and Ken lost their house in a fire – the details are here.  What struck me as I read their report was how the entire post was written from the perspective of gratitude.  Sometimes I am guilty of overstating the whole rural Midwest strength-in-stoicism thing, but I hope if I ever find myself in similar circumstance I will comport myself with the strength of Jay and Ken.

Sadly, Jay’s latest manuscript did not survive.  The pumpkin seed oil, on the other hand, has been preserved.