We're Farmers, Not Rednecks

      I like to think that even though we live in the middle of nowhere where barnyard animals roam freely and Walmart and Rural King are upscale shopping experiences, that we're still classy people.  I mean, we may be farmers but we clean up pretty good, we're not hicks right?

At least that's what I tell myself.

Adventures in Dairy Goat Farming: Part 2

    When G and I were dating and eventually planning our life together many, many years ago we discussed everything from where we would live, how many kids we would have, where we would vacation, when we would retire, and how we would decorate our house.  One thing that never ever came up though was any mention of livestock.



    I think maybe once I asked if G liked the name Jamboree for a baby girl, to which he said if we ever got a goat I could name it Jamboree (he has a history of rejecting my off-the-wall baby girl names, and by the way we have three goats and not one of them is named Jamboree).  And I think the idea of having a chicken or two crossed my mind after all my parakeets died.

    But now we have 12 chickens and 3 goats with daily mentions of what farm animals we're going to accumulate next.

    Starting with baby goats.

    When the whole thing started, it was one baby goat we were going to have.  But G has learned to gradually warm me up the idea of more livestock and, somehow, now, we are somehow planning on up to EIGHT baby goats next spring.

   So, how does one go about going from two female goats and a "fixed" male goat to anywhere from five to eleven goats and a couple gallons of milk a day?

    Well, I have learned, you simply put an ad on Craigslist looking for a goat "companion."

    Goat dating ads were never part of the plan I had for my life.  But now almost daily I find myself humming, "Match-maker, match-maker, make me a match..."

    Evidently, at least around where we live, goat "companions" and fellow goat farmers willing to let you borrow their daddy goats or board your female goats are not hard to come by.  Within hours, G had a couple potential suitors for our lady goats and the next evening the three boys went down the road to interview one of them.  (Typical boys though, they didn't even ask the goat what his name was, so for now we just have to call him Mr. Goat).  Well, the neighbor Mr. Goat was accepted for the position and now the boys are making plans to bring him to our house for a couple-week-long playdate.

     The best part of all this though was one evening at supper, GD asked, "When will I be old enough to understand why our girl goats need to visit a boy goat in order to get baby goats?  Will I understand when I'm five?"  To which we just replied, "You'll understand when you're older."  And changed the subject by telling him he could name the goats.  Forget about the birds and the bees.  At my house we'll have the goats and the chickens discussion.

 

 

Well, We Did Say We Wanted to Raise Bees

     A few weeks ago I noticed some yellow jackets buzzing into the small opening between our siding and door frame.  I mentioned it to G but it was only a few bees so we didn't think anything of it.  Over the next weeks I noticed more and more bees buzzing around, but they were leaving us alone and we were busy so we still didn't do anything.  And then one afternoon there was a bee in our house. And the next day a few more.  So we decided we finally should investigate.

Adventures in Dairy Goat Farming: Part 1

     G brought the goats home last April with the intention of turning them into dairy goats, and making them productive, worthwhile farm animals.   For the past six months they have really been nothing more than glorified pets, providing bare-back goat-riding sessions while we hemmed and hawed about keeping them, building them a goat barn, and taking the necessary steps to goat lactation.   During the first couple weeks I threatened to get rid of them while G insisted the boys would be heartbroken.  Then for the next couple weeks G threatened to get rid of them while I insisted the boys would be heartbroken.  And then for most of the summer, getting rid of the goats was the ultimate consequence of any bad behavior.   All the while I keep asking, why do we have these goats?  To which the answer is usually something along the lines of, "Because we're farmers!" or some excuse that they're making manure to fertilize my garden.

Halloween

     It seems really odd to me that I have a child who's most absolute favorite day of the whole year is Halloween.  I never really thought Halloween was that exciting.  I liked dressing up, but then my costumes always started to "bother" me, and trick-or-treating was cold and dark.  But GD has been looking forward to Halloween since April and is already talking about next Halloween (and pretending that everyday since October 31 was Halloween again).  His excitement for the holiday is solely based on his loves of the Curious George Halloween BOOFest Special and stabbing pumpkins with a carving tool.  He was beyond excited to be dressing up as No Noggin, even though we only came across two people that had even heard of No Noggin.  His costume was pretty simple to put together (especially because Curious George shows you how to make it in the show), and he helped with all of it.

      Of course, GE gets excited about anything his brother is excited about, so he was overjoyed to be dressing up too.  Even though I had a cute cowboy costume and a banana costume leftover from GD that would have fit GE, I wanted to make him his own.  GE is pretty obsessed with cows right now, and farm animals in general, so I made him a comfy cow costume that I'm sure he will wear again and again.  He was especially enamored with his tail.

     The weather the night of trick-or-treating was perfect, about 70 degrees, and since the time change is different than it was 20+ years ago when I last went trick-or-treating, it wasn't even dark.  We went into town to a friendly neighborhood where people sat on the front porch waiting for trick-or-treaters or just sat a bowl of candy out for kids to take from;  I didn't even have to have my kids knock on strangers' doors which I really appreciated.  They really had a lot of fun.

     Trick-or-treating was two days before Halloween and GD was still highly anticipating the actual holiday.  I was concerned he would be disappointed that there wouldn't be an avalanche of pumpkins, a Haunted House of Very Scary Fish, or - for the nervous types - a Regular House of Perfectly Normal Fish (really, if you haven't seen the Curious George Halloween BOOFest special, take 54 minutes and watch it on Netflix).  I couldn't really even think of anything Halloween-y, but the day did end up being what GD declared was "the best Halloween ever!"

    They had a friend come in the morning to see their goats and chickens, so of course they had fun showing off their farm animals.  Then we painted pumpkins and did a Halloween craft.

    That afternoon GD asked when we were going to rake leaves (we would have to rake them because we don't have the Hertzburg Leaf Suck-a-Pator 2000).  We don't have any leaves, and G was going to be really late from work, so I decided to take the boys up to our church to rake some leaves.

     They had the time of their lives raking leaves.  Really, it was probably more fun than Christmas morning will ever be for them.  GD's Halloween was complete.

    They had so much fun raking leaves that we had to go back the next day and do it again.  

A Pregnant VeggieTale?

    This summer GD was really into watching VeggieTales.  Every week we'd go to the library and check out a few videos and he'd watch them during his afternoon "rest time" every day.  This went on for about 2.5 months, but then a couple weeks ago while we were standing in front of the VeggieTales DVDs at the library to pick out the week's selections, he declared that he was "taking a break from VeggieTales."  I felt like an "it's not you, it's me" moment was coming between him and Larry the Cucumber, but he just went on to look for the next set of fictional characters to over-watch.
    If you really wanted to, you could take a lot of time to ponder a universe with talking, singing vegetables.  I actually don't really want to take a lot of time to ponder that, but I felt like I had no choice this summer.  And one afternoon, a somewhat odd unanswered question about personified vegetables popped into my head and demanded answers.


    I was putting GE down for his nap, listening to the faint sounds of singing asparaguses (asparagi?) drift through house.  I was in haze of the early first trimester of pregancy and half asleep as GE nodded off.  All the sudden I wondered if there had ever been a pregnant VeggieTale and what a pregnant VeggieTale would look like.  I contemplated this for awhile in my progesterone-induced-but-I-can't-sleep-because-my-preschooler-is-awake-downstairs coma, only coming up with a mental picture of a pregnant butternut squash.  The only problem was there aren't any female squash in the VeggieTales.
    Later that day, I broached the question to my good friend via text.  Fortunately, she's in the same stage of toddler-preschool-hood that I'm in a didn't think I was crazy but googled it for me.  No hits.  She did point out that Junior Asparagus' mom would have had to be pregnant at one point...wouldn't she?  Well, I asked, or do VeggieTales grow from seeds like their non-singing counterparts?  We didn't explore this idea further because we were 1) Realizing how few female VeggieTales there are, and 2) Trying to figure out exactly what vegetable Petunia is supposed to be.
     (Sidenote: Regarding issue number 1, I googled both "are the VeggieTales misogynistic" and "female VeggieTales" to see what kind of public outcry there is about the lack of female vegetable representation (because even of the 5 female VeggieTales I can think of, one is a fruit) and I only found one blogger upset about it, particularly that the females have hair and the males don't so what kind of message is this sending our daughters???  But I did find several people condemning the VeggieTales as a whole because they encourage disrespect towards Bible characters.  Eh...I'm going to let my kids keep watching VeggieTales.   And regarding issue number 2: Petunia is a rhubarb. Now you can sleep better tonight know that.)

    This line of thought all occurred about two months ago.  Tonight as I started writing this a few other things occurred to me that I will leave you with to ponder:
    1.  The VeggieTales' personification probably does not carry through to their reproduction.  After all, it is a well-known fact that they don't have belly buttons.
    2.  If they do start life as a seed, I'm guessing that they are GMOs.  I'm surprised that some anti-GMO activist hasn't picked up on this idea and started spreading propanda about GMO vegetables coming to life and acting out Bible stories in our kitchen sinks.  And, what's worse, they are so mutated they don't even have hands.
    3.  More than likely, though, in the VeggieTales universe, more singing, dancing, personified vegetables simply come into being through computer generation, not through conventional methods.

With that, I really think I should just go to bed.

     

Free Lawn Tractor

Sometimes my husband comes home with random machinery for no other reason than he found it for free.  

For example, this lawn tractor from the 1960s that doesn't run and has four flat tires that he showed up with the other day. 

Sometimes I worry that our yard is going to end up looking like a junk yard. But I'm sure my grandfather would be happy to know that someone--three someones--are carrying on not only his love for this sort of "collectible" but also his trademark statement of, "it will be worth some thing someday."

The Fair

   I have never been a big fair person.  Growing up, we would go for the marching band events and maybe look at the animals and tractors.  I went and rode rides with friends a couple times.  And for two summers in elementary school I went and stayed overnight in a camper at the fair with a friend and helped her take care of her pigs.  That experience made me want to completely avoid fairs forever; I like the great outdoors but please don't make me sleep in a camper, and PLEASE do not make me live on fair food for two days.
    When G and I were dating he started to work towards changing my mind about county fairs.  We attended all the romantic fair events, like combine demolition derbies and tractor pulls and free country concerts in condemned grandstands.
    And then I gave him two sons to attend those kind of things with him instead.
    And now that we have two sons that love demo derbies and tractor pulls and barns with endless stalls of farm animals, the county fair is the highlight of our year.
    Every week on our way to the library we pass the fair grounds and GD asks when it will be demo derby time again or when the next pull is.  GE doesn't remember the fair from last year, but even he moos when we drive by the fairgrounds (well, that may just be because he likes to moo and have nothing to do with the cows that will be there).
    Well, last week we finally had our county fair.  Never did I think that I would be having a discussion with my husband about the pros and cons and the cost-effectiveness of buying a fair pass, but we had a couple conversations about whether we would be purchasing one this year (ultimately we decided against it, which was good because some of the events on our to-attend list got rained out anyway).
    Schools around here close during the fair, so last Thursday morning instead of preschool, I took the boys to the fair for our annual tractor and animal viewing.  There was some disagreement and unhappiness because GD wanted to see the antique tractors first and GE wanted to see the cows first.  The cows are on the opposite end of the fair from where we parked and the antique tractors are at the front, so GD won that one.  GE got over it but mooed the whole time we looked at the tractors.
   GD loves antique tractors ('putt-putts') and every tractor we looked at received some sort of exclamatory comment, such as, "Look at the size of that oil filter!" or "This would be good for plowing through the mud!'

    Next we made up for the delay in seeing the cows to GE by taking him to the rabbit barn.  GE loves bunnies maybe even more than he loves cows.  This is his, "Bunnies!" face.

    We then proceeded to see and greet almost every single livestock at the fair.  And we finally took GE through the moo barns, although I think he liked the bunnies and the ponies the best.

   Next we had to check out and touch every piece of new farm equipment on display (GD differentiates between the putt-putts and the new machinery as "tractors I can't touch" and "tractors I can touch").

   After two hours at the fair the boys were "starving!".  So I bought them a fair pretzel.  They were not impressed.  Next time we'll just get corn dogs.

   And that was just our first visit to the fair.  The next day G took GD to compete in the Kiddie Pedal Tractor Pull and he won!  The tractor trophy he got was pretty much the highlight of his young life.

   Then on Sunday we took the boys to the demolition derby.  This wasn't one of our best-planned outings of our parenting life.  In the future, I will never wake a toddler up from his nap to attend a demolition derby.  No matter how much we think he's going to like it. The boys did enjoy it though, and when GE got too tired to keep watching he got to go see the moos again, and laugh maniacally at all other animals again.  And the boys finally got their fair corn dogs.

   The next day, GD sadly commented that it would be a whole year until we had the fair again.

   

Our First First Day of School

   Our family had our first first day of school two weeks ago.  GD started preschool!

    Not a single tear was shed by three out of the four family members, and the one that couldn't hold himself together is probably not who you think.  GE was the only one that couldn't quite get over the fact that his older brother was leaving him.

A Pocket Translator for Communicating with GE

GE is 20-months old and appears to be mostly taking after me in terms of personality, including his outgoing-ness and his love of talking.  Like GD, we attempted to teach GE sign language when he was a baby but GE has always preferred to just use speech.  He has quite a sense of humor and surprises us daily with the things that he says  Here are just a few of his most common words and phrases in case you ever need help in translating.

Repost from My Old Blog: "Learning a Second Language"

I originally wrote this over 3 years ago when GD was about 15 months old.  He has a much wider vocabulary now!

I used to never understand how parents could comprehend what their small children were saying.  I would hear a mother carrying on a conversation with a toddler in which one side of the exchange sounded like a jumble of syllables.  I used to think the parents were just pretending to understand and making up responses, but now I'm realizing that as a child is learning to communicate his or her parents are learning a second language.  My new second language consists of words and gestures and mainly revolves around tractors, our cat Jack, and ducks, but every day I am adding to my vocabulary.  This is what I've learned so far; italicized words refer to actions used to communicate.   

Autumn Obsession

  You know those people that are completely obsessed with fall?   I'm sure you know the type, or at least have encountered them spreading their pumpkin-loving memes across all social media. As soon as August 27th rolls around and there's a slight crisp to the air, it's all about sweater-weather, bonfires, hayrides, and apple cider. I've never been part of the "all things fall" cult, but my son seems to have drunk the pumpkin spice latte.

Goat Escape

    I just love looking out into our back yard and seeing three goats roaming freely.

   Well, not really.  But I'm getting used to it.

Motherhood Changes Things (Part 1)

   I have a four years of trauma nursing experience.  Sometimes I feel bad because I'm not using those skills anymore.  But then sometimes I think that those four years may have been necessary preparation to be the mother of boys.


For example: (yes, it's sideways)

   Note the four-year-old driving his Power Wheels through a mud bog he made himself and the 18-month-old stuffing miniature explosives (Pop-Its) down his boot.  Four years ago I would not have allowed this.  Four years ago I was looking into getting a continuous EKG monitor for my son just for my peace of mind.  Four years ago I swore my children would have no battery-operated ride-on toy of any kind, would never be within a mile of explosives, and would wear a helmet just for going down the slide if I even allowed them to have a slide.
   And yet here I am, videotaping this recklessness and doing nothing to stop it.

The Excitement of the Fireworks When You're 4 Years Old

  My earliest memories of going to the Fourth of July fireworks is when I was about three years old.  The memory is really foggy, but I remember that finding a place to park was difficult, we had to wait FOREVER (I was a very impatient child), and I spent the entire time worrying that the doll I brought was going to fall into the river.  I knew that it was something fun and special, but I was just so confused about the whole thing.

Being Thankful for Ketchup

   Every night as part of our bed time routine, everyone in the family has to say something they are thankful for that day.  We started this ritual last November as a new Thanksgiving tradition, but we liked doing it and thought it was a good exercise for all of us so we are still "doing our thankfuls" every night.

The Reality of Picking Wild Berries

   With the first day of summer always comes the first ripe berries of the season.  This past week my boys and I took twice daily trips out to the berry patches to see if they were ready to pick yet.  Finally on Thursday morning we found the first plump black raspberry ready to pick.  The outdoor wild berry smorgasbord had begun. Snack times for the next couple weeks will consist of taking walks out to the woods and eating fruit right off the bushes, and my sons' hands and faces will be stained a deep shade of burgundy from now until mid-July.  And when they're not stuffing their faces with fruit, I'll try to pick some extra to put in the freezer for this winter, and for sorbet and jelly.

Homemade, Natural Deer Repellent

   One of our big dreams of country life is to have an orchard with a bountiful harvest.
   So far, we have failed at this endeavor.
   This was the year that we were going to get our orchard going.  Again.  We replaced all the dead trees and were diligently checking on them.  It was during one of these routine checks that GD and I discovered that all the leaves below a certain point on the trees had been stripped and a couple of the smaller trees were just barely hanging on to life.

Chicken Catching Lessons

    GD recently turned 4.  He was very certain on how he wanted to celebrate his birthday.  The theme he chose for his party was "Planes, tractors, monster trucks, chicken catching, and donut holes." (I couldn't fit all of that on his cake)

Life Lessons from a Broody Chicken

   Watermelon, our Buff Orpington, is one of my older son's favorite chickens.  True to her breed, she is very mild and lets him scoop her up and carry her around the yard.

   Recently though, she was very broody.

"I's Really Wants To Be A Farmer When I's Grows Up"

GD is very certain about what he wants to be when he grows up. He plans to have a brief stint as a monster truck driver followed by many, many years devoted to farming (with monster truck driving as a fall back). He talks about his future as a farmer every hour of every day. He knows what crops he'll plant, what animals he'll raise, and he definitely knows what tractors he wants. He is very serious about his farming goals and has laid out a plan not only for learning how to farm but for saving his money for big tractors.

A Load of Manure for Mother's Day

    I'm not a huge fan of "greeting card holidays."  In fact, I'm not a huge fan of greeting cards in general.  If you know me in real life you may have noticed that I don't send cards anymore.  Sorry. 

  But that's not what this post is about.
  My husband and I usually don't do much for Mother's Day or Father's Day so I wasn't expecting or wanting much, but I was looking forward to being treated a little special by my boys on that day.  But Mother's Day was not necessarily a good day for us.

That One Time My Husband Brought Home Goats

    I don't know when it started, but somehow my husband and my three-year-old both got it in their heads that we needed dairy goats.  And when those two get something in their heads, there's really no stopping them.

New Blog

Welcome to my new blog!  I'm starting all over blogging with a new site and a different focus.  This blog is just going to be about life in general for us.  I hope it will be entertaining and maybe encouraging, but it's main purpose will be for me to enjoy writing about what's going on out here in the country.
I have shut down my old blog (because, honestly, I found it annoying) but will be re-posting some of my favorite posts about life here.