Life is More Simple in the Country

It's not more simple.  We just make it look easy.  But trust me, it's not.  We earn that hot shower at the end of the day, and trust me, that Select Comfort mattress is heaven on Earth, and sleep comes fast and hard.

It's been two solid months since I've been able to find the time to sit down and blog about the station.  The silly thing is, I can't really place my finger on WHAT I was doing, or what I accomplished over those two months, but it has been non-stop.

Being pampered by the Chicken King

The calendar was filled with the normal daily chores that are found in any household and augmented by the chores of an acreage that is racing the clock, ending one season and beginning another.  The approach of Fall was heralded by dropping of The Boy at The University. So while academically we were in Fall mode, Mother Nature was still burning the summertime oil.  It was hot, miserably humid, a lack of rain, which sent the pollen and dust counts sky high, and I was down one farm hand.

The chickens constantly reminded me that I was doing everything wrong, but as long as they had water and got their fill of tasty treats and spent the day out on long walks, I seemed to be forgiven for not being The Boy.  After all, the sun was warm and the bugs were plentiful. If you're a chicken, that's pretty much all you need to make you happy.

The chore chart on the laundry room black board seemed to grow instead of shrink.  For every chore we erased, we came up with two more that needed added. Even the tiniest chore takes time, most are mediocre, like swapping the winter and spring clothes in your closet.  Others are necessities, and require either perfect weather or more than one person to accomplish.

Painting the posts on the barn and house need warm and dry weather, but can be done by one person.  Done.

Doc playing the Pied Piper in place of the Chicken King

Replanting new trees and shrubs can be done alone, but need to be done early enough to get some rain to start a strong root system or you'll be hauling water to feed them.

Orchard Clean-up

Closing up the chicken coop for the frigid winter months, needs done after it's done being hot, but before the chill starts in.  It also requires a windless day, or 12 foot panels become wings that batter the carrier.

Posts on the barn are painted and the coop is closed up for the
Winter.

September was full of these little odd jobs and a few side trips.  Merriweather decided this would be a romantic time to go broody, so we obliged and gave her 6 eggs from a friend's farm an hour away.  She would be hatching 6 Icelandic eggs.  She's a great broody hen and spent the next 2 weeks terrifying the rest of the coop with her moody antics until I moved her to the broody coop to hatch in peace and quiet.  I think I actually heard a cheer from the main coop that day.

I treated myself to a day painting out on the last weekend of September.

It was cold and windy, and the minute pirate bugs made being outside miserable.  Not only do they bite but they landed in, and blew into the paintings, making little "snow" angels as they struggled to remove themselves from the artwork.  When I took a break for lunch and came home, I was warmed by the sight of 6 tiny, fluffy, baby vikings.  We just call them the hoard.

Baby Icelandics

The hoard outgrew the broody coop in a week and Doc and I moved them to the barn, where they spent their days playing in the dirt and tormenting their mother and the rest of the flock.  Nights in the 20s, forced us to move them into the warmer, insulated workshop were they spend their days tormenting their mother and us.  They are growing like mad, and I THINK we have three cockerels and three pullets.  It is so hard to tell at this age.

The hoard is taking over, which is I guess what hoards do best.

October is when the real work began.  Harvest in the region was about to go into full swing.  A few more weeks of dry weather and the hills would be filled with the hum of combines and grain trucks. The days were warm.  The skies were crystal blue, and the fields were a raw umber until they blazed with gold in the sunset.

The beginning of the third week of October marked the shift of the seasons.  The winds began to howl.  Days of high winds brought dry air from the south gusts repeatedly hit 45-50 mph for an entire day.  The wind was warm, but it drove dust and pollen, making being outside like being in a sandblaster.  The next day it was as if the state took a deep, calming breath to relax.  The air was warm and still, and it gave everyone a chance to repair and pick up after the windstorm.  The state exhaled the next day.  Winds greater than the previous storm spent the day blowing from the North this time.  While the major storm only lasted one day, winds in the 30s lasted the next week, and with it - cold temperatures and rain.

Snow on the Pumpkin

The pressure to finish chores was palpable. It was a race, and the last echo from the starter's pistol was fading away, and I was standing on the starting line stunned.  Just as the leaves were changing from their Summer wardrobe to their glorious Fall attire, the winds stripped them bare. Gone.  It was all gone.  Fall lasted two days, and I missed it!  It was fast and furious.  It reminds me of the kitchen scene in A Christmas Story when the Bumpass dogs tear through the house, destroy the kitchen, eat the much anticipated Christmas turkey, and break down the back door.  I felt like Ralphie, standing in the kitchen doorway, lamenting on the lack of future Turkey deliciousness.   Sigh.

Measurable snow on Halloween.

I rallied by going apple picking.  After all I still needed to make gallons of applesauce and apple butter.  During the picking, I realized it was the first time in 18 years that I had gone picking without my little apple buddy.  On the upside, the apple products turned out delicious.

Amazing meal of cream cheese and homemade apple butter
on a toasted bagel.

Wykin, Blykin, and Nod grew like weeds and started taking their place in the flock.  I decided I didn't need TWO cockerels from this generation, so I watched the boys carefully and decided who needed to find a new home.  It was a tough decision.  In the end, it was Wykin who moved 12 miles up the road to his own flock of Red Star hens.

Wykin with his new flock.  When I left, he was already dancing for his new ladies.  

Nod is now called Wookie for the loud growling noise he makes.  Blykin is now princess as she looks like Princess Leia in her flowing white pant suit.  Wookie is dancing for the flock and his stomping on the ladies is driving Andy crazy!  We are still waiting for Leia's first egg.

Wookie overseeing hay moving.

We still haven't managed to get a fence up around the pasture, so there are no large critters to report about.  All the guys that do fencing are busy with harvest, and after harvest comes deer season.  I hope to hear from someone after that!  I've done the math for the supplies I need to build the stalls in the barn, but have yet to order them.  I can always work in the barn in not so nice weather, so those chores weren't even on the winter prep chore list.  With the sun setting before 5pm, all chores are up to me during the day, and I'm only one person.

Ellie caught in the cookie jar.

Donder shocked us with this GIANT 110 gram whopper!
That's a standard size playing card.  Yes, it was a double yolk.

The children's book I'm writing is plugging along.  For a while, I was making it to a quiet library chair (with access to a Starbucks) once a week, using a day that was going to be too cold or too windy to get chores done at home.  It turns out I really cannot work on this book at home.  There are too many other things that need done, or steal my time and attention.  What started out as a picture book evolved into a short story, and has now mutated into a grade 2-4 chapter book.

So there you have it.  It's not that I didn't post for Fall 2017.  We simply didn't have one!