31 Thoughts

Two nights ago, I received a startling phone call at 12:54 a.m., from my dear husband, who had gotten stuck in the middle of a snow drift, about a mile away from home, after working a 12 hour shift, fixing snow plows that keep the roads passable, during a snowstorm that dumped 8 inches on us, with 30 to 40 mph winds.

He said, "Get dressed, don't wake the kids, grab the tractor, don't worry about the loader bucket, it has the blade on the back, and come plow me out."

Here is my progression of thoughts, upon receiving this phone call:

1. I'm warm and sleepy.
2. It's cold and snowy and windy out there.
3. I don't want to go.
4. Marcel needs help.
5. He's stuck in a snow drift.
6. It's just around the corner on Trask Bridge.
7. It's really not that far.
8. Maybe he could walk home.
9. We could get the car out in the morning.
10. Anyways, why didn't he take Brick School Road?
11. Everyone knows you should take Brick School when it's cold and snowy and windy.
12. Armando was sick yesterday.
13. What if he needs me?
14. I shouldn't leave him.
15. What kind of mother leaves her sick kid alone at night?
16. What if the girls wake up and don't find me here?
17. Marcel called and he needs help.
18. I don't feel so good.
19. Maybe I've caught the flu from Armando.
20. It'd be hard to clean up vomit from the cab of the tractor.
21. And then we'd be stuck driving a tractor that smells like puke for the rest of the year.
22. I think I've forgotten how to drive the tractor.
23. Anyways, it's cold and snowy and windy out there.
24. And if the situation was reversed, Marcel would not want to get out of bed and plow me out.
25. But he would.
26. And he'd come as quick as possible.
27. And he wouldn't make me feel bad about waking him up on a cold and snowy and windy night.
28. Aw, crap.
29. I'm going out into this cold and snowy and windy night.
30. To rescue my husband from a snow drift.
31. I'm a good wife.

Someone Likes Me

Someone named Tim likes this blog. Well, shucks! Thanks, Tim.

He put me in a list of good farm blogs to read. A top 30 list, even. Harvestin' Blarney made the top 30! Eat that, pop rock stars.

Of course it's his own personal opinion. It's not like anyone voted or anything. But hey, I'll take it. As we say around these parts, "Beggars can't be choosers." (Please don't ask me what that means. It's just what we say, got it?)

There's no tellin' what fame and stardom are gonna do to a smalltown farmer like me. I hope the animals are prepared for the paparazzi. Which reminds me: I'd better go get the cockleburs out of the horses' manes. And I'd better stop saying cockleburs--someone might get the wrong idea.

Anyways, Paul's list of most sensational, inspirational, celebrational, muppetational--oops, I got myself confused with the Muppet Show for a second there--farm blogs can be found here:

http://www.bestcollegesonline.net/blog/2010/30-old-macdonald-had-a-farm-blogs/


Over and out, peeps. And I don't mean the chickens for once.

Morning Admissions

Today's the day. The day I come clean.

You see, I've been hiding something from you. Something that I've been too ashamed to admit.

It's not that I've meant to decieve you in any way, it's just.....well, it's just that sometimes it's easier to say nothing than to come clean about things like this.

And anyways, it's not like any of you have asked. But still. You read this blog to learn about farmlife, to see how things are really done, to get a taste of rural life. You've helped me get through the many trials I face here on the farm, the difficult decisions and the many mistakes. But most importantly, you've helped me celebrate those rare triumphs, those few things that I've done and done well.

So I owe you. I owe you the truth.

OK. Here it is. Here goes nothing. Here's the deep, dark, shameful secret I've been hiding all this time:

I do morning chores in my PJ's.

I don't take the time to get dressed before doing chores. I just throw on my coat and boots and go tend the animals. I have been known, even, to duck into barns or the garage if someone is driving by so they don't see me in my blue-striped pajama pants or my grey sweats that are too short. I know! The shame of it has been killing me.

Think what you must, but that's the bare truth of it. That's how things get done here on my farm. Weird but true.

Haunted Barn?

A little earlier I snuck out to check on the calves.

We separated them from their mommas yesterday so they're not too happy. In fact, we couldn't sleep last night from all the bawling and bellowing. Poor babes.

But when I got to the barn, I saw something that made me rethink my assumptions. Maybe the calves were bellowing and bawling for another reason.

A super scary reason. 'Cause this is what I saw in the bullshed tonight:


Ahhhh!! What is it? A ghost? A monster?

An evil spirit come to whisk me away?

Umm.....It's a spirit, all right.


A spirited 4-year old that's come to finish me off.



This face gets me every time.

Winter Reprieve

February has given us a welcome winter reprieve. We realize that the warm weather isn't going to last long, so we made the most of it while we could.









This has gotta last us through April. Well, at least according to Punxsutawney Phil.

Eggs Galore...."Ooh, Aah"

There are eggs galore here in Irish Grove.

"Ooh, aah."

With some forethought and a little luck o' the Irish, we timed our replacement pullets rather well this year. Since the hens take a much-needed break from egg laying in the late fall, we have a really tough time filling our regular egg orders. Let me tell ya, it can be mighty frustrating to have a barn full of chickens and find 2 or maybe 3 eggs in the nests each day.

And I always wonder if our egg customers believe me when I explain to them that the hens just aren't laying right now. Egg production is seasonal. The hens need lots of light stimulation on their pituitary gland in order to lay regularly. The short winter days just don't provide enough light to keep them going. We keep a light on in the barn to help counter that, but like everything else, artificial just can't compete with the natural.

Can I repeat that?

Artificial can't compete with natural.

Thanks.

Anyways, spring is the season for high egg production. Which is why we color eggs for Easter and not Thanksgiving.

We mucked through a month or so of little to no eggs as best we could, and I got to wondering if maybe the pullets (young hens) were gonna hold off until spring to start laying. But then, all of a sudden, we started finding little mini eggs here and there. Yeehaw, the pullets are laying!

Now, unless you've raised laying hens sometime in your life, you probably didn't realize that you can tell the age of the chicken by the size of their egg. Yeah, nature is all neat and tidy like that.

Sometimes.

Pullet eggs are tiny. So tiny, in fact, that when I found an aqua-blue pullet egg (from an americana hen that lays greenish blue eggs), Madelina argued with me that a Robin must have layed an egg in the chicken barn. I tried to explain to her that Robins don't lay eggs in the winter, and that most of them migrate South.

She wouldn't buy my explanation for one second. Stinker.

Pullet eggs will often have a little splash of blood on them as well. Mothers, I'm sure you will readily confirm that that first one is a tough one. (Sorry, guys.)

More seasoned hens lay nice large eggs. The size of egg you ideally buy from a local farmer, or at the store. These eggs are by far the most common egg we find in the nests. And it doesn't take long for a pullet to close the gap, size-wise, with her eggs. Maybe 2 weeks, tops.

But the old hens? The ones you should cull and sell as stew birds, but can't because you believe they've earned their retirement? The ones that are losing money beak over claw? Yeah, these old ladies lay an egg maybe once a week, if you're lucky. Even during egg season. But when they do lay an egg, they are huge, honker eggs. Huge-mongous eggs. The eggs that make it hard to close the carton eggs. Jumbo eggs.

And once in awhile......and I mean these ladies must be sitting on their eggs for a month or so.....they'll lay a super DUPER doozer of an egg--a double-yolker. And we call these eggs, courtesy of my Gramma Alice, "Ooh-Aah" eggs.

Why, you may ask? Please, you've just gotta ask me why, 'cause I can't wait to tell you.

Gramma Alica calls the double-yolked eggs "Ooh-Aah" eggs because when the hen is pushing the egg out she says, "OOOooooooooh", and when the egg is finally out she says, "AAAaaaaaaah".

Ha, ha ha ha, hoo hoo, ha!

I think that's pretty funny.

Here are some photos of eggs, progressing in size from pullet eggs to an "Ooh-Aah" egg. The photos don't do this subject justice, but I haven't added photos in awhile, so here they are:

The pullet egg:

The regular egg:


The "Ooh-Aah" egg:

As you can see, I am cooking platanos con huevos fritos for breakfast. In Panamanian that means fried plaintains with fried eggs. Yu-u-mmy!

My (delicious) breakfast is providing the perfect opportunity to prove to you skeptics out there (and don't think I don't know about you) that yes indeed, some eggs have two yolks.

Watch. And. Learn.

Here I go, cracking that "Ooh-Aah" egg you saw above:

There you have it, people. A double-yolked egg. An "Ooh-Aah" egg in the flesh, or pan, as it were. Ok, so I did break one yolk when I cracked the egg shell. But you can obviously see that the two yolks came from the same egg....just look at the egg white.

You better believe that with a breakfast like this one, I'll be muttering a few oohs and aahs myself.

Let's just hope there's no accompanying egg.

Rest and Relaxation

Happy Labor Day! I hope you're taking full advantage of your day off.

I see these guys sure are.

They deserve a break. I mean, it's hard work following your mother around all day, trying to sneak a drink of milk here or there.

The calves tell me that Labor Day is the perfect day for relaxing,

visiting friends,

and just hanging around.

Obviously I'm not the only one who agrees!

It must also a great day for daydreaming. Take this chicken, for example. She's wondering if maybe, just maybe, she'd make it as a flamingo.

What do ya think?

The goats also have an active imagination.

They think they'd make great mountain climbers.

As for me? Today I'm dreaming of vacations, good food, and great company in a far away land.

That's me and Madelina in Boquete, Panama. Isn't she the cutest, sweetest thing ever?

Hope you find a restful, relaxing way to spend your day.

Oohs and Aahs

Vacation...oooh. Sunny Florida...aaah.

It was so nice to take a break from life in Irish Grove. Florida was wonderful, and we were actually able satify the whole family on the trip, if you can believe it! We had lots of swimming opportunities and a visit to Busch Gardens for the kids, boating, golfing and relaxing for Marcel, an outing in a nature preserve for me, and a trip to a beautiful beach that made all of us pretty dern happy. Plus, we got to spend a lot of time with my mom, and shared our Busch Gardens time with my sister and her family, and my brother Matt. What more could you ask for?

Did I mention that for 6 out of 8 days, the weather was in the low 80's, sunny with a nice gentle breeze? Ahh, such a treat for some pretty winter-weary Irish Grovers. So, come along as I reminisce.

Here we are, relaxing...

sightseeing....

playin'....

swimming....

and piggin' out.

Plus, we got to see lots and lots of exotic animals (exotic for Irish Grove at least).

We saw a dophin....

a manatee (you'll have to take my word for it)...

the homely, yet important and very rare wood stork (notice the water just in front of him?)...

a very large alligator (that luckily didn't end up eating the wood stork above!)....

and a strange, elusive tropical creature that I just can't quite make out.

This is very mysterious. It looks a lot like a ring-tailed lemur, but aren't they only found in Madagascar? Yet it moves so sleekly through the understory. What could it be?

Wait....it seems to be swinging around this way....

I'm still not sure, and yet suddenly it looks a little familiar.

Aw, shoot. Did we come all the way to Florida just to see a raccoon?

Oh well. Raccoon and all, we had a wonderful time and are ready for farmin' to begin. Rested and rejuvinated, all I can say is: Bring it on, Irish Grove! Let the fun begin.

We're Off

We're off....we're outta here....we're gettin' the heck outta Dodge. Yep, we're headed to sunny Florida to spend a nice week relaxin' in the sun, swimmin' with the kids, and coaxin' my freckles out of hiding.

We like to take advantage of spring break around here, seeing as April kick-starts the farming season into full swing, and we won't be comin' up for air until late October or early November. (Whew....makes me tired just thinking about it.) Last year we went to Panama to see the family, this year it's Florida to meet up with my cavortin' mother. Of course, we have a few trips planned this summer as well, but it gets waay more complicated when you've got hay that needs cuttin' and especially some mama cows giving birth.

We're leaving this afternoon, so Marcel's off filling hay cages with hay for all the animals, and after church we'll be grinding feed for the beef cattle. The kids are helping immensely by eating lots of Easter chocolate, and spreading their Easter basket grass all over the floor.

We might be a little stressed at the moment, but it will all melt away once we're poolside (or even better, ocean-side), sippin' umbrella drinks in our bathin' suits. Ahhh. See ya when we get back!

And, of course, have a very happy and blessed Easter.