Chick says MOO...meet Bessy

A drive to remember

With "Z" by MMJ as my soundtrack, I hopped in the car, did my farmer's market circuit, bought some plants, and chatted with a few folks. I've been asking around the farmers' markets about people who would be willing to show me the ways of a beekeeper. Lots of people have given my info and resources to check out. This weekend was no exception. Except, this weekend I met John Duncan. You can really see when some people are doing something that they love to the core of their being. He pulled me around to the inside of his modest booth of honey, eggs, veggies, and a few jars of salsa, sat me down on a stool, and literally gave me the history of bees with such gusto that it got me more excited than I have ever been about beekeeping. He is bringing me a video to watch next Saturday at the market, and he even offered to let me come out to his farm to SEE THE BEES--as in suiting up and checking out what is so great about their knees!!!! Enthusiasm from another person could inspire me to do just about anything. John definitely had enthusiasm and knowledge and I am a cell-o sponge just waiting for the spill. (as I write this I'm indulging on some of that bread and John's honey)

After the market, I set out on another journey. To Taylorsville, KY, to meet Jim Price for the first time on his farm. I wanted to add a few more worms to my worm-poo-crew and possibly another chicken or two. And I did. The drive was peaceful and surprisingly short. I drove down a curvy road to a gravel driveway. As I drove, I passed a beehive and pulled up to an old farm cottage complete with old rocking chairs on the front porch. There were chickens in the front yard. There were chickens in the backyard. There were cows in the pasture. And, there was a garden behind the house. I kicked myself several times for not bringing my camera. I'm planning another trip out there and won't make that mistake again. I can hardly call myself a blogger if I don't provide visuals!

The new girls are settled in and seem to be getting along with the original bunch. New names are Bessy, a Golden Comet who looks like a little cow, and Lily, possibly a Salmon Faverolle that's shy and sweet. The more are let myself sink into the simple life, like an overstuffed chair at your grandma's house, the harder it is to get out. It happy and safe and warm and fulfilling here. This past weekend was so good. The rugrat wasn't feeling all that great on Sunday, so I stayed home from work with her. Since we were confined to the house, I decided to make a good day of it. For four hours, I paced around the stove watching strawberries turn into jam and tomatoes turn into a hearty pasta sauce with basil from my yard and tomatoes & onions from the farmers' market. The strawberry jam was just sweet and tart enough to inspire me to make bread. Luckily, I had enough jam leftover, not enough to fill a jar, but enough to engage in some necessary quality control. I must say, one of my favorite guilty pleasures is freshly baked warm bread with honey, butter, or now, homemade strawberry jam. My favorite part was when the lids started popping on the jars and I knew that I was successful. After Hubby woke up, he took a shift with Sophia and let me go play outside. I let the girls out of the coop and started the endless process of weeding. They had a blast and almost didn't want to go back inside. The coop is finished--at least the building part of it. Its too hot and humid here to paint, so I'll wait a bit before I tackle that project.

A routine for happiness

I love my morning routine now. Get up. Stretch. Walk outside to check on the chickies and the garden. Water the plants. Come in, make breakfast, read blogs that I follow, then get ready for work. The chickies are so frisky in the morning. Especially today. Its a lot cooler than its been in the past few weeks and the sun is shining. I've got tons of tiny cukes growing on their vines just waiting to be turned into pickles for Hubby. The broccoli has heads on them about the size of softballs on some. Thats really cool because of my disasterous attempt to grow broccoli last year. The bean tower is completely covered in beany vines. The black beans have pods on them already. Tomatoes are sprouting out everywhere. After my canning class this past weekend, I'm feeling more and more confident that I will be eating my own tomatoes well into winter. These are all baby steps towards happiness. My focus narrows with everyday. Its getting easier to "bloom where you're planted" and just be happy where I am right now. Making this house, this little family, and everything that surrounds it into everything that I've ever wanted and more. I want to create and to be self-sufficient. (stay tuned for an upcoming test of self-sufficiency will power) I want a farm-like setting in the city. Its becoming that. Hubby is more and more supportive everyday. Sometimes he almost sounds interested! I'm getting involved and putting myself out there so that others can see how great it feels to do things for themselves. It feels good to quietly think to myself "What a good life I have."

FINALLY!

Nothing has twitterpated my heart like looking through the old antique window, through chicken wire, and into a chicken coop with my bustling little gals checking out their new digs. The first attempt at getting the girls moved into their new coop was a big FAIL! We didn't have the window in yet and I thought it would be fine since it felt so nice out. About 3:30 am a nasty storm rolled through which jolted me out of my slumber. In my pjs, I flew outside to find 3 of my 7 girls soaking wet, including Ziggy-138, my runt. I scooped them up, and with Hubby standing at the door for a hand-off, ran them inside back to their brooder. It was kind of comical because most of them were sleeping so soundly that they didn't really even wake up. I know they probably would have been fine, but I didn't want to take the chance. I love my girls. Last night we tried again. The girls settled down in a pile to go to sleep. I went out to check on them early this morning and they were stretching and scratching about--happy as can be. And, speaking of Happy, our pooch, he is doing quite well with them. I don't think they'll ever have an encounter that isn't separated by 4" and two layers of chicken wire, but he didn't bark all night and that's a good thing!