The new baby chicks are here, and they are so, so cute. I'm pretty excited about these little guys (or girls - they're all straight run so we won't know what we've got for at least a month or two). We found a lady breeding and selling locally, and she had some varieties that I've been wanting to get, like Welsummers and Cuckoo Marans. This means that we'll get some DARK brown eggs. Got more Ameracaunas, too, so I'm trying again for blue/green egg layers. We also got a Sicilian Buttercup, which I've been told is extremely rare. I'm thinking that Buttercup is not for eating. Since we don't have any full size chickens left, we're brooding them out in the coop, and they seem very happy with the setup. I have very high hopes for this batch of chicks. Now we just need to get the chicken run all fixed up and doggy-proofed for them.

I'm also getting really excited about the garden this year (not so much today, since it's pouring rain. Looks like my brilliant plan to put the seedlings in the ground before the storm was supposed to hit tonight is kaput.)
Davey and I spent the weekend creating two more beds to plant in, so I'll be able to grow a lot more this year. I'm notorious for trying to crowd too much into my garden beds anyway. I'm trying really hard to control that impulse, because it makes harvesting so much more difficult when you have to hack your way thru a jungle of tomato vines to get anywhere. I'm pretty hyped about the prospect of growing pickling cucumbers and cantaloupes on a trellis. Amazing what a girl can accomplish when she's not pregnant and puking all the time! Also, it looks like I will finally get my herb garden I've been wanting so badly. I'd love to be able to quit buying most of them from the store and just use fresh. It's always been my goal to eliminate supermarket shopping as much as possible. If I could get everything we can't grow from the Mennonite market, I'd be a happy girl. Still, little by little, I'm learning how to eliminate unnecessary stuff. The house is getting cleaner, we are happier for it, and life, overall, is good. I wouldn't trade this simpler life for anything... even if I do sometimes dream of hardwood floors and cold water that acutally runs. (I truly believe that God is using this house to teach me some humility.) After all, I get to wake up every morning to this:

And I know that my girls are going to get to grow up doing things I always wanted to as a kid: raising chickens and cows and (hopefully) goats and bunnies and things. Farming, gardening, learning how to really be self-sufficient and not so materialistic. I hope that we can teach them that life is about experiences, not things.


(Oh, and for the record: Toad at the Bijou Theatre was AWESOME. So was my Woodruff Downtown Nut-brown ale :) Yay for grown-up time!)

bye bye birdies

So. I've been working up to being able to write this for the last 4 days or so now, but first I had to filter through the outrage, the anger, and the terrible sadness. Friday morning our chicken flock was wiped out by some neighborhood dogs. We no longer have an egg problem. Friday morning I got up and started getting the girls up for the day, and I heard a howl from the side of the house the chicken coop is on, and looked out the window in time to see two dogs coming out of the chicken coop. Not good. I ran out to the coop, but it was too late. They had obviously had quite a bit of fun tossing the chickens around. At first glance, all of them were dead. It was horrible. I chased the dogs out of the coop and tried to assess the damage, but I was crying too hard at that point. So I went inside and called Davey and semi-coherently tried to sob out what had happened. I think all he managed to understand was that something had happened to the chickens. (Clearly I am not a calm person in a crisis. I should work on that.) I went out to the coop a little while later, after having a good cry, and reassessed the damage. Of 22 chickens, there were 9 still breathing and in various states of shock and injury. As of today, only 3 of those 9 are still alive, with one still questionable. My 4 baby Ameracaunas that I was so excited about were in the 19 killed. So was Pretty Girl, my pet Speckled Sussex. I understand that (with the exception of Pretty Girl, who was NOT for eating) all of these chickens were going to die at some point. And I was ok with them eventually ending up in the soup pot. And we've lost chickens to dogs before. But something about this massive slaughter just felt too awful. I guess because the chickens were in their home, where they should have been safe. The coop and the attached chicken run were intended to protect them from things like this, and clearly failed to do so (it looks like the dogs dug their way into the run). Plus, I'm all mommy-fied and soft now, with the hormonal need to protect everything I can remotely imagine needs mothering and nurturing. Maybe putting chickens in the soup pot is going to be harder than I thought. One thing is for sure. Since moving to the farm, we've become a lot more familiar with death. Ducks, chickens, a cow, even pets. And so far, none of them have died to feed us, except for a couple of squirrels, which didn't feed us much, and I sincerely hope will never have to feed us again. Blech. Anyway. I hope that this gets easier. And I hope that we get better at this whole farming thing. It feels like we've got a lot to learn. That we learn it at the expense of animals' lives makes the lessons costly, but ultimately memorable. For example, we now know that baby cows need wormer; and that ducks have a much better survival rate when you've got a mean ol' African Grey goose around to defend them. And I have a feeling we'll be learning a better way to build a chicken run really soon. So. Now we get to begin rebuilding our flock. We wanted to sort of mix the flock up a bit, and bring in some different breeds, we just intended to eat the chickens we culled out. And maybe take our time with it. For better or worse, the job was done for us. So, once we fix up the chicken run, it's time to start buying some new chicks. Fortunately the Mennonite Animal Market in Delano is at the end of this month. Something to look forward to!

spring fever

(which is, hands down, waaaay better than cat scratch fever. Just so you know.)

So tomorrow, I'll be dropping the girls off with Grammy and Grandpa, and Davey is going backpacking, which means that for a solid 24 hours, I'll be alone. I'm a little giddy.. hell, I'm downright drunk and slaphappy with the notion of doing pretty much whatever I want, with noone to answer to but myself. Unfortunately, this will probably go down about the same as when I knew that I had a chunk of spending cash coming for my birthday, and by the time I actually got my grubby paws on the money, I had it spent 14 different ways in my head, and deciding which way to spend it in reality was quite another matter. I ended up piddling it away and never really accomplishing much of anything. And these 24 hours are so much more precious than cash. I could go shopping (oooooh! the grocery store! the craft store! heck, every craft store in town!) and not have to worry about changing diapers, nap times, feeding times, grumpy kiddos and grabby hands. Not to mention lugging kids from one car seat, stroller, cart, etc to the next. I could go to the park and pass out on a blanket and get a righteous sunburn. I could spend the evening in the bathtub with a bottle of wine and a good book. I could go out with friends and enjoy some grownup girl time. I could stay up ALL NIGHT. Because I WANT to. Not because I've got a sick kiddo to look after. I could sleep in til 8. Wait, scratch that. I do that already :). I could finally get the curtains and cribskirt and throw pillow made for Maezie's room (and the living room, for that matter). I could finally clean out the utility room. I could accomplish any number of cute crafty things I've been wanting to do. I could work on the garden. I could scoop out the chicken coop (which, frankly, really NEEDS to happen). And I'll probably start every single one of these things and finish none of them. Or if I get them done, they wouldn't be done well. I don't think I have ADD, I think I'm just greedy.

Sooooo. Deep breath, slow down. I'm going to try my darndest to enjoy my 24 hours, and maybe even accomplish a few things. At the very least I'm going to get my shopping done, go to the craft store(s), and get me a Starbucks, and savor every wonderful sip, with no darling little distractions. And then I'll probably go home and cry myself to sleep, because seriously, who couldn't miss this?

And this?

and this?!?!

It's gonna be tough. But somehow I'll survive it.

(and right this moment I am thoroughly pissed at my camera, because there's this super cute picture I took yesterday of Punkin playing outside in the flowers, but I can't get ANY of my camera batteries to work so that I can upload it. Grrrrr. Maybe later.)

eggs everywhere

this picture does not begin to portray the number of eggs we have around here lately. I have at least 3 of these baskets full of eggs. it's ridiculous.

The egg situation has really been getting out of hand here lately, and since I've been feeling a little more energetic the last few days (thank God for that!) I decided I better try to use up some of the ridiculous egg surplus we've got going on. (I'm also trying to get a mini-CSA in the works, so if anybody wants some eggs delivered to K-town, let me know.) Last night I made my first quiche, and it turned out pretty dang good. So good, in fact, that I thought I'd even share the recipe. I use the term 'recipe' loosely, since I don't tend to measure accurately, if at all. This will fill one regular 9-inch pie pan (I'd double the recipe for more than 4 adults). I'm not fancy enough to own one of those pretty quiche pans with the scalloped edges.. ah.. maybe one day...

Spinach, Bacon, and Feta Quiche -

Crust: 1 1/4 cups flour

1/3 cup shortening

1/4 tsp salt

1 or 2 tbsp water (if the dough seems dry)

combine with a fork or pastry blender until it resembles a coarse meal. If the dough is too short (feels too greasy) add some more flour, but just a little at a time. You can always add, but you can't take away! If you want it to look nice and pretty, you could roll the dough out on a floured surface, but I'm lazy, so I just pressed the dough into the pan. It still tastes good. Coincidentally, this is the same crust I use for pies, just cut in half. Sort of. Again, I don't measure very well.

Filling:

6 eggs

1/4 cup milk

1/2 block feta cheese, grated

1/4 cup green onion

3/4 cup bacon (about 4-5 pieces) fried til crispy, chopped into bits

1 tsp basil or other spice

2 cloves garlic, crushed

salt and pepper to taste

fresh or frozen spinach leaves

1 tbsp minced cherry peppers, just to spice things up. Any kind of pepper would work.

Beat the eggs, add milk, cheese, onions, garlic, bacon, basil, peppers and s & p, mix well. If you are using frozen spinach, drain it, and add to the eggs. I used fresh spinach, so I just put it straight into the pie pan and poured the egg mixture on top. Bake at 375 degrees for about an hour, or until it puffs up all nice and pretty and no liquid runs out when you cut it (inserting a knife and having it come out clean does NOT mean that it's done. Learned that the hard way.)

It might not be the prettiest thing in the world, but it was YUMMY!

And, voila! Dinner is done, and it's yummy, and it used half a dozen eggs. Score!

It was so good that I'm making another one tonight to share with the grandparents. Also I love the fact that there are so many variations to this.. you can pretty much add anything you want in the way of fresh veggies. And it uses at least six eggs. Did I mention that part? I also discovered last night that if you add nine whipped eggwhites to a regular cake mix, it will come out super fluffy and moist. I also learned that I don't know jack about making custards (I was trying to find a use for 9 egg yolks). I'm not even entirely sure I like custard. I may need to start making massive quantities of homemade noodles or something. That makes me so sad (not really).

little lumpy dumdums

Some parents have the unfortunate luck of getting kids who are obsessed with Thomas the Train, or Dora, or -heaven forbid!- Barney. But my girls, kinda by accident, love the Muppets. Their Daddy is so proud! And I can actually pretty well tolerate watching The Muppet Movie and Muppets Take Manhattan, so I count myself lucky. Even Miss Piggy is better than that stupid purple dinosaur (oh, and so much for my high and mighty, not-going-to-let-my-kids-watch-tv principles, also).

Still, even The Rainbow Connection can wear on the nerves after a while, so I introduced Punkin to the magic that is Babes in Toyland. Ding ding ding! We have a winner.

Anyway. All of this was to sort-of justify my blog title for the day and to make the point that I've seen the Muppet movies waaaaaay too much.

On to the real news: Lump update. I have cat scratch fever. Great. I'm a Ted Nugent song. That alone makes obvious the need for an antibiotic. So they gave me this massive, killer, one-shot dose that is drunk all at once and then slow-releases in my system over 5 days, killing the crap outta some bacteria and making me feel like crap in the process. Hoo-ray. It will still probably take about 3 weeks for the lump in my arm to go away, but it should start to calm down soon. That'll be nice. I'll be quite glad when this whole thing is over. And I'm quite glad to know that it's nothing more serious. Davey can stop freaking out now. At least about that.

Coincidentally (providentially?) during the Great Lump Ordeal, they've decided that there is most likely a problem with my thyroid. That would explain the extreme exhaustion I've had lately, among other things, and (most importantly, in my mind anyway) the 10+ pounds I've frikkin' gained while breastfeeding. So I'm waiting for the test results, but they said that my thyroid gland felt large, and when I googled hypothyroidism when I got home Monday, I read about post-partum hypothyroidism. Yeah. I can pretty much check off every single symptom on the list. So I really feel right now like I'm just waiting on confirmation. Fortunately it's very treatable, and most likely temporary.

In happier news, it's SPRING!!!!! Everything is green and growing again, and all the little seeds we planted are popping up in the garden and starting to grow (I can't wait for the peas.. I love fresh peas!), we got some more chickees from the co-op (Blue egg layers again. So fun.) and the weather is warm enough to go camping! We've got a trip planned in a few weeks, the same weekend that Davey is taking me to see Toad the Wet Sprocket at the Bijou in Knoxville. I've never seen them live, but they're one of my all-time favorite bands, so I'm pretty excited about this. Plus, grown-up time! And, I'm pretty sure I can finagle a trip to Mast General Store while we're downtown. It'll be a lovely time. Maybe I'll even be able to stay awake for it!

the only thing we have to fear

I should be more scared than I am, I think. Others would be. The poor hubby most certainly is.

Lemme explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up. Buttercup is going to .. wait. That's not it.

Ok- seriously this time:

Last week I found a lump on my arm. A big, gnarly, painful lump. A little bit of internet searching showed it to be a lymph node (who knew there were lymph nodes in the elbow?). A little more searching led me to think I might have an infection maybe, but surely it was no big deal. Right?

I felt exhausted and flu-ish all weekend, and then Monday so tired that I just didn't even want to get out of bed. So I decided it was time to go to the doctor. Got an initial round of bloodwork (which didn't show anything useful), some looks of concern, and an antibiotic, just in case. And an appointment to go back in 2 weeks, sooner if the lump got any bigger or things appeared to be getting worse.

Back to today. The lump is bigger. It hurts like the dickens. I'm tired all the time (some of that could be the antibiotic, though). I'm giving the antibiotic 1 more day to start working (and the lump one more day to stop growing) and then, I'm calling the Dr. again. Maybe it's just the wrong antibiotic for the potential infection that I have. Maybe it's not an infection after all. This is what has been on my mind all week. There are no answers yet, and there probably won't be for at least another week. Maybe longer. Because the biggest rub is this: we don't have medical insurance. Part of the "leap of faith" we took when I quit my job was to go without insurance for a while, and trust that God was going to get us through, somehow, until we could afford the insurance offered at Davey's job. Naturally it has already occurred to me that if I'm really sick, no insurance company is going to touch me if they can help it. So tests are expensive, and have to be paid for out of pocket.

(and let me just back up and say this: God has been so incredibly faithful. Everything we need and so much more has been provided, sometimes in the most unexpected, beautiful ways. That's part of the fun of living on faith. God gets to do stuff way cooler than we ever could do on our own.)

I should really be scared right now, I think. I am, just a little. But two thoughts keep coming back to me. That God will take care of us, and that if this is more than just an infection, I am strong enough to fight it. Maybe not to win, but to at least give it one hell of a bloody nose. Should that be so comforting? I don't know, but it is.

I am also reminded every single day what an amazing gifts I've been given. Being able to stay home with my girls, for one. The last four months have been supersweet, and I wouldn't trade them for anything. I've got the greatest husband a girl could ever hope for, and I'm constantly being given the opportunity to fall in love with him a little bit more. Every day we share an amazing adventure. I live in the most beautiful place (methheads next door aside. I just don't look that direction), surrounded by mountains and forest and the beauty of creation (not to mention all the fun farm animals we've been collecting).

This past week, in spite of everything, I feel more connected to it all. So if nothing more comes of this than that, well, cool.

I feel a certain determination not to let this ... whatever it is, slow me down. In fact, it's becoming something of a motivator. Not much of one, because I'm still pretty exhausted every day, but still. This past weekend we started our vegetable garden (Davey did most of the real work while I "supervised"). Yesterday I started working out again. Nothing strenuous, but just enough to be able to say that I did it (And yes, sadly, I'm sore from it today. I haven't really worked out in 2 years!). I even got some laundry done today. Seriously, that last accomplishment is more impressive than you know.

Maybe I'm a little more scared than I'm willing to admit. It does feel good to get all this out of my head. Maybe tomorrow I'll wake up and the antibiotic will have kicked in and the lump will be smaller and all will be right in my little speck of the world. I hope so. But if you think about it, say a prayer for me, and especially for the poor, freaking-out hubby.

And since I don't like to be bringing people down - here's some adorableness to brighten things up:

Dang, I've got some cute kids.

just a little update

Holy where has the time gone, Batman! It's been forever since I posted anything! Well, maybe not really forever, but a good solid couple of months. Maezie turns 3 months old in a few days, Punkin's FIFTEEN freakin' months old, and I'm 3 months into being a stay at home mommy of 2. It's been crazy busy, but I am LOVING it. For realz.

It's still a wee bit hard for me to wrap my brain around the fact that I don't have to go to work. Sometimes I start to get stressed out because I didn't get all the dishes washed, and then I realize - but wait, I'll be home tomorrow, too. I have time. I can't even begin to tell you how crazy that is.

Maezie is just about the cutest little thing in town. Her cheeks are unstoppable. Seriously. See for yourself:

Plus, she just looks awesome in a Santa suit!

I have found it immensely enjoyable discovering just how different she is from her older sister (except for their sleeping habits. My little champ started sleeping thru the night at about 6 weeks, just like her sissy!). For starters, she loves to be on her tummy. She will NOT sleep on her back - Forget it. Won't happen- whereas Punkin hated being on her stomach. It's cool with me though, Maezie won't have a bald spot or "flat head". Punkin had no time for toys until she was about 9 months old. She didn't play with things at all. She just wanted to be looking at everything. Maezie, on the other hand, loves toys. She's already reaching for things and playing with stuff. So cute. She has also started rolling over already. She actually started a few weeks ago. I couldn't believe it. She's an over-achiever or something. I wouldn't call her an introvert, but she's maybe not quite the social butterfly her sister is. I'm okay with that. I can't wait to see what she becomes, and how her personality unfolds. Also - I'm pretty sure that she's going to have some shade of red hair (score!). Her eyelashes are the prettiest red-gold, and girl's freakin' PASTY. Thanks for that, Uncle John!

Punkin just won't stop growing. It's driving me nuts. She got her first haircut a week or two ago - but only because she got this massive dreadlock right in front of her face and I could not get it out. I wanted to cry. But the bangs look pretty darn cute, and my girl can rock some pigtails like nobodies business. She has also started giving kisses and hugs. I swoon a little when I think about it. She's not talking yet except to say "DOH!" (no) at the kitten when she does something she's not supposed to. She even holds up a little imperious finger and shakes her head as she says it. Yep, that's right. My daughter's first actual word that she uses with regularity and in the proper context is "no". This does not bode well for the future.

She's also excellent with her non-verbal communication skills (been listening to Davey's workspeak too long, I'm picking up phrases like "non-verbal communication skills"!). She can get just about anything she needs to across with that pointy little finger and a few head shakes. Still, I can't wait til she starts talking for real. Here she is looking totally adorable helping Mommy and Daddy decorate the Christmas tree:

This was pre-haircut, of course. I don't have a picture of her pigtails uploaded yet. I'm not sure the internet can handle the cuteness. It might implode.

Speaking of cuteness - Punkin and I made valentines today for her daddy and her grammy and papaw. She hasn't quite got the hang of the whole crayon thing yet (although she has now decided that they are not for eating), but she did manage to make a few little scribbles that the recipients seem to think were the most elegant caligraphy they've ever seen. No, she's not spoiled or anything. Daddy got both girls a rose and some candy (he still hasn't figured out the age-appropriate gift thing). So sweet. We had a great semi-romantic dinner (only semi because I was feeding Punkin in the highchair and Maezie was squalling because no one would hold her all the time) of steak and shark. (Which oddly enough reminds me of a fishy porkchop. It was interesting.) I use parintheses too much. (seriously)

I'm going to try to do better about posting. Really I am. I mean, I should have the time now, right? Plus, I really want to have some sort of a record of these precious days with my girls. I can't even begin to say how thankful I am to be able to stay home with them. It's been the most amazing couple of months. God has provided for us, and then some. It's a really awesome thing.