August 31, 2009 by Debbie.

I’m going to be a millionaire. I’ve developed a new perfume!

It will capture all the alluring scents of a homestead …. the musky, senusual (to a doe anyway) scent of a buck at the start of fall’s rutting season (from trimming the buck’s hooves); the sharp atttention getting smell of baby chick poop (from cleaning out the brooder cages); the wafting scent of goat pee (from my tennis shoes as I finally crash on the porch swing and prop your feet up.) Oh, and don’t forget that unforgettable scent …….. hot dog poop being ran over by the lawn mower as you push it through the yard. And blend the cut grass smell in there, too.

I figure this perfume will be an overnight success. After all, all the optimists can’t be wrong and they say when life hands you lemons, make lemon-aid. Life didn’t hand me lemons, which would obviously smell TOO good for this perfume. Life handed me some real poop so I figured I’d make perfume. Oh, bummer, maybe instead of perfume I’d better make compost. Millions lost in a matter of minutes.

It took longer to lose my sanity, but as you read, I’ve finally accomplished it. You, too, if you’re still reading here.

I’ve placed two orders over the Internet this morning, one for homeopathy meds and one for Dean’s Beans  coffee. I messed them both up. At the hmedicene.com site it said my Discover number was invalid and at Dean’s Beans I ordered regular coffee instead of decaf. I know, it sounds like I really, really, really need the leaded version at this point, huh?

I like the 100% Fair Trade that  Dean’s Beans supports and I can’t find that locally in a decaf flavor I both like and my stomach can tolerate. Now I have to use the phone ….. something I avoid as I usually mess up dailing the numbers and have to dial at least 3 times. Dialing 3 times may not seem like a big deal but we don’t keep long distance service on our phone so I have to dial through the Sam’s phone card - dialing thier 800 number and then dialing my card number then dialing the phone number. Way too many chances for me to misdial. As I do almost all the time I use that thing - maybe because I use it so infrequently as the 800 minute card is going on it’s 3rd year in use. BTW, visit Dean’s Beans next time you want some really good 100% Fair Trade coffee.

Why is 100% Fair Trade so important that a frugal (aka cheap) person like me would pay the shipping charges to buy coffee when there’s a Folger’s plant right here in Sherman? Aside from the taste of Folgers, 100% Fair Trade means the workers are paid a FAIR wage - a living wage, not sweat box labor wage. 100% means that ONLY coffee grown on plantations where workers are paid a fair wage is included. Just a ‘Fair Trade’ label means that only a small portion has to be truly Fair Trade. I had to backtrack on my typing …. go to Dean’s Beans and read about 100% Fair Trade and you’ll find out the rest of the story and I can climb off my soapbox and get some stuff done here! I guess mentioning it today is a result of yesterday’s message - Do unto others as you’d have them do unto you. I’m not paid a fortune for sub-teaching but it is a “fair” amount.

I’m a twit. Yes, Faithful Friend, I am. I know you’ll argue with me but it’s true. I’m pretty much OK on emails and other written words but talking face to face is not easy for me, (don’t listen to John either! he will tell you I can TALK), and the phone is absolutely misery for me. Someone approached me after church yesterday and ask if she could hire me to make a quilt. Remember I ’see’ words in my mind as I hear them and I saw my 1″ nine patch quilt that I’ve been working on for over a year and the Compass quilt that is on it’s 2nd year and not quite finished. “You couldn’t pay me enough to make a quilt for you,” is what blurted out of my mouth as I was already thinking along those two quilt lines …… I knew from the look on her face she wasn’t sure how to take me. It’s hard to backtrack at times but I hope I was able to. I’m down to too few friends (maybe 2??)  to alienate even possibilities of friends Too bad there’s no delete or re-wind button on my mouth.

I pulled my next to last chicken from the freezer this morning. Sigh. One chicken left in there. I still have canned chicken meat in the pantry but I like to save that for when I’m too tired or out of time to cook. The replacement meat chickens are starting their 3rd week and growing fast. We should be able to butcher the first of Oct. so I guess two chickens (one in the sink to defrost and the last one in the freezer) will do fine. I’d just rest easier with a few more in the freezer. I wonder how the widow woman who’s cruise of oil and flour never ran out did? Did she feel unsettled the first few weeks when she only saw a little left and knew it had to last a loooooooonnnnng time? She, like us, had to wait not only for some money to buy more but for seed time and harvest to build up her supply. I know these chickens will be our year’s supply, not just til next paycheck time. Puts a different perspective on things.

The meat chicks are now on pasture in the old pasture poultry coop. Next weekend they will ‘be moving on up’ as the Jeffersons’ used to say, to a new pasture coop thanks to the generosity of a wonderful homesteading couple outside of Tom Bean. I will be so glad to not have to drag this 200 pound coop around the yard this fall. The new one is made more realistically as a movable coop - meaning not using 2×4’s and 3/4 inch plywood like I did. For this week in the old coop the baby chicks will be learning to adjust to outside nighttime temps and having grass underfoot (and, hopefully, in their belly as they learn to graze) and they will be cultivating a new garden bed for me at the same time. Course, they’re not adding to the Homestead perfume but we’ll get by. I’d better get outside and experiment with some of that hot dog poop scent … uh, I mean mow the grass.

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August 25, 2009 by Debbie.

A lifetime of colours, brights and darks, pastels soft and light, blinding neons, but always love expressed in living colour. Thank you, John, for the last 36 years. Can’t believe we’ve been married that long. And don’t know why or how you did it - I wouldn’t be married to me on a bet.

Remember this?

I love you,

Debbie

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August 17, 2009 by Debbie.

John spent last week in San Francisco and wouldn’t pack shorts because it was too COLD there. He took a jacket. I didn’t know if I would let him in the gate when he came home. He learned quickly not to brag about that week’s weather, although ours was better for here, too, but I didn’t let him know that…. I’m just kidding guys, don’t flame me.

I got a ton of stuff done while he was gone. Found an ad in the paper, a couple of teenagers with their Dad collecting scrap metal for college funding. They came and picked up the old swing set, several rusty, bent up old cattle panels that were made in Noah’s day and just as heavy as the Ark, some old chicken wire and small fencing; a bunch of the Ma & Pa Kettle junk that’s been ‘going to the recycle but can’t do it all in one day, Ma.’ Unfortunately I missed a trash can of metal but at least that’s contained and in the workshop…. which is next! I got the hay shed cleaned out. Oh, they took the old sink base that has been under there for 5+ years. I’m very grateful for their work!

Baby chicks came in on Wed. Thirty-five broilers for fall butchering. They are growing fast and need little additional heat in this weather. That’s why we grow them in the fall instead of the spring when the brooder heater runs most of the time. I can sleep easier knowing the electric meter isn’t spinning out of control.

I think we have a snake behind the hay bales in the barn. The goats were intently watching something back there this weekend. Then Smokey, barn cat, had her head stuck back there, hunting this morning. I smelled the snake when the goats saw whatever. What fun. I’m sick of snakes.  I haven’t seen an ad for anyone wanting to pick up scrap snakes though. Too bad.

AND our 3 last bucklings are going to the vet’s tomorrow to be wethered. I was really hoping Talley would be taken as a herd sire as his momma is doing excellent on the milking stand and gave as much as 3# on once a day milkings - great for a first freshener. Her Momma was even better so I’m expecting better with Betsy’s future freshenings.

Lilly, our granddog, spent the weekend with us while our daughter and family were tubing down in New Brunsfeld. Lilly promptly rolled on the pile of dog bones and then hid all of the bones under the hay shed. She growled at any of the dogs (huge in comparison to her size) when they came near their own food bowls that she was borrowing for the visit. Even Pudge avoided her whenever possible. Bud gets along with any and every one so he willingly shared his quilt with her. Sorry the picture is grainy. John took it with his phone as I was too lazy to go get the camera. Not too bad in that case, huh? While you’re at it, ignore the full laundry basket behind them. I was lazy!

I cut the tallow soap to cure but have cheated and brought one bar in to use now. It’s pretty firm for fresh soap and it feels fantastic. I think I’d use tallow all the time if I could cheaply render my own. This batch is a tad browner than it should be as I put too much Peru Balsaam in it. Peru Balsaam is a resin esssential oil that is used for the skin more than for scent.

Zucchini is still producing, so much so that I ripped up one patch to allow more sunlight to the mellons that are growing in the same bed. The Hale’s canteloupes are ripening faster than we can eat them. Farming is typically feast or famine. Famine for the green beans. Got one meal from them before they started burning up with this 100 degree heat. The asparagus beans have gone hog wild but just don’t taste as good as regular green beans. I’m spoiled, I know.

Oh, and I finally finished the top quilting on the Compass quilt! I positioned the needle and let John push it through for the last stitch. Now comes the less than fun part - the binding. Any volunteers? Maybe I’d better check the ads tonight.

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August 2, 2009 by Debbie.

I seldom scream. It always seemed like a waste of time to me as it never changed anything anyway. BUT this past week I screamed as I reached down to pick up a flake of hay and a young skunk scurried out of its sleeping hole in the hay, to scurry down the feed alley of the barn. Drat! I had to hurry that day to make my semi-annual diabetic checkup (which I passed with flying colors, thanks to God.)

I worked gingerly around the unwelcome and uninvited barn guest while I finished feeding and milked Betsy. I suppose I shouldn’t say he was uninvited as I had set corn out for a loose chicken and that’s all the invitation a skunk needs. I mean, he was formally dressed in black and white, why not come to dinner? The skunk acted very normally so I wasn’t concerned about rabies but I was concerned if I’d get dunned for missing a doctor’s appointment on short notice cause I  had gotten sprayed. I’d probably just go in anyway. It would be worth the stink I’d make.

It was a young skunk so he didn’t feel overly threatened by my presence, only slightly raising his tail once or twice til he settle in waiting for me to get done with my chores. The sun was full up so the nocturnal tiny animal slide behind a couple of cement blocks, hiding his head and going soundly to sleep, not caring that I went about my business. He stayed there til late that night when his stomach cried out for his next meal. He did leave a slight musky smell that reminded me of our uninvited guest for a few days and prompted me to be extra careful in the barn.

I love training baby goats to become excellent quality milk goats. I’ve seen the milking traits passed down from momma to daughter for several generations and it does make a difference in the milking experience. It’s true any doe can be milked but for quality and quantity of milk and milking ease it’s wonderful to milk a doe who came from milking lines.

Tilly, who will be a 3rd generation milker, is showing all the qualities of a fantastic milker. She takes to the milking stand as second nature. While up there eating with her momma she watches me milk Betsy and accepts THIS is what she was made for! While she’s eating I handle her, teaching her that it’s a pleasant experience and not something to just be endured til she’s off the stand. After she’d done eating and I’m still milking Betsy, Tilly will nibble on my ear, kiss my nose and try to climb on my shoulders. She take quick bites of my shirt and decide it might be OK with ketchup but plain it’s really boring tasting. And after milking comes the raisins. I always give the does a treat after milking but I have never had a baby doe ask for raisins treats - it’s usually an adult taste for the goats - until Tilly. She’s been known to dig in the supply bucket and nibble on the raisin bag, impatient for me to share them with her. So of course, after Betsy gets hers (milkers always get theirs first), Tilly gets a small handful of raisins.

I don’t breed any doe til they will kid after 2 years old. It will be hard to wait these next 18 months to breed Tilly and see how she takes to the real experience but I see all the signs of another great milker.

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