Friday, September 30, 2011
bunny love
There's a farmer-family wedding this weekend in good old South Carolina. Abe and I are spent the evening tonight with relatives from out of town who are here for the festivities. Tomorrow morning we leave for Middle Of Nowhere, Lancaster County, so you'll have to muddle through the next few days without me. Here are rabbits so you don't get lonely.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
get rich & get dirty
I was going to post a book review, but surprise! I haven't finished the book, since I only got it from the library on Saturday, and I've basically been at work ever since. Also, I almost died, and I'm very easily distracted.
So coming soon, some sort of discussion about Pay Dirt, which you should probably come back for if you're the kind of individual attracted by the possibility of earning $10,000 by playing in the yard for a year.
So coming soon, some sort of discussion about Pay Dirt, which you should probably come back for if you're the kind of individual attracted by the possibility of earning $10,000 by playing in the yard for a year.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
THANK GOD I EVEN SURVIVED AT ALL
Friday's "Thank Goodness I'm Farming" post is here! This is because yesterday, when I otherwise would have been posting it only one day late, I was instead flat on my back crying in pain like an orphaned, infant rabbit.
I've been getting my yoga on pretty regularly this week, and Friday I did my practice as usual before work. I felt pretty super about myself, thinking: This yoga practice is energizing and refreshing. Tonight I will be as energetic as Abe. And so fit! Then I left for work, which on the weekends is waiting tables at a a farm-to-fork restaurant. The use of both arms is encouraged, as is lots-o-energy. That became a problem when my shoulder started throbbing in the car. It continued to ache all evening, with sharper pains brought on by deep breaths, laughing, sneezing, lifting, and turning (and by the way, Yoga, thanks for all the help with that deep breathing. That turned out to be extra excruciating. A plague on your asana, Yoga). It was a weird kind of deep pain that I hadn't experienced before, so when I got home I decided it would be a good idea to put a heating pad on it.
That also turned out to be extra excruciating, because obviously I have no idea how to treat traumatic injuries. The next morning I woke up with such stabbing pains that I couldn't stand without Abe's help, so I just lay in bed crying. Then I discovered this new amazing resource called "the internet," and found out that you should only use heat on chronic injuries, and should use ice for the acute ones. After a few rounds of icing (note: unfortunately not the same as frosting), OTC pain-relievers, and a good night's sleep, I'm feeling much better now.
And I am thankful that I even survived at all, and that I will now know what to do for Abe in an emergency situation, like if he gets run over by a tractor, falls off a grain silo, or suffers attack by a rabid chicken (farm hazards). I will STEP AWAY! and then call our neighbor, who is an EMT.
Oh yeah, and farming. We'll talk about that next time.
baby rabbit, empathizing
I've been getting my yoga on pretty regularly this week, and Friday I did my practice as usual before work. I felt pretty super about myself, thinking: This yoga practice is energizing and refreshing. Tonight I will be as energetic as Abe. And so fit! Then I left for work, which on the weekends is waiting tables at a a farm-to-fork restaurant. The use of both arms is encouraged, as is lots-o-energy. That became a problem when my shoulder started throbbing in the car. It continued to ache all evening, with sharper pains brought on by deep breaths, laughing, sneezing, lifting, and turning (and by the way, Yoga, thanks for all the help with that deep breathing. That turned out to be extra excruciating. A plague on your asana, Yoga). It was a weird kind of deep pain that I hadn't experienced before, so when I got home I decided it would be a good idea to put a heating pad on it.
That also turned out to be extra excruciating, because obviously I have no idea how to treat traumatic injuries. The next morning I woke up with such stabbing pains that I couldn't stand without Abe's help, so I just lay in bed crying. Then I discovered this new amazing resource called "the internet," and found out that you should only use heat on chronic injuries, and should use ice for the acute ones. After a few rounds of icing (note: unfortunately not the same as frosting), OTC pain-relievers, and a good night's sleep, I'm feeling much better now.
And I am thankful that I even survived at all, and that I will now know what to do for Abe in an emergency situation, like if he gets run over by a tractor, falls off a grain silo, or suffers attack by a rabid chicken (farm hazards). I will STEP AWAY! and then call our neighbor, who is an EMT.
Oh yeah, and farming. We'll talk about that next time.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
how to feed chickens & alienate neighbors
Open the back door and step outside. Announce yourself to the birds! I call them like this: "bawk bawk bawk bawk!" Be a little loud about it - some of the chickens really like the shade in the back corner of the yard, and you need to get their attention too.
The chickens will come running. Be sure you have treats. There are lots of things chickens like that you might have around the house, like
Chickens love conversation as much as the next domesticated fowl. Advise them about their tail feathers (i.e., to shake them) and how to get the worm (early). Not being certain that chickens speak English, your best bet may be the noisy "bawk bawk bawk bawk" discussed earlier.
Wear closed-toe shoes if you prefer to protect your red toenails.
*Side note: Sort through leftover salad to make absolute certain that there aren't any stray pieces of chicken hiding beneath the tomatoes. Otherwise, you will watch in horror while your chickens turn into cannibals and eat the very flesh of their own kind. They will be enthusiastic about it, and you will not quite feel the same about chickens after. The guilt, though, will eventually subside. Not that I would know from personal experience. What?
**Now you can get rid of your rice cakes honorably without admitting you were never going to eat them. I was going to eat mine, but there are chickens who are hungry in Africa. How could I eat rice cakes when there are hungry chickens in Africa?
The chickens will come running. Be sure you have treats. There are lots of things chickens like that you might have around the house, like
- stale bread, torn into bits
- crumbs from the bottom of a bag of tortilla chips
- vegetable scraps*
- oats
- cereal
- bird seed, if you're in to that sort of thing
- rice cakes**
- apparently, yogurt. I wouldn't recommend tossing yogurt at yo birds - although this is supposed to be about alienating your neighbors, so go ahead. Glob it.
- Toes painted with red nail polish
Chickens love conversation as much as the next domesticated fowl. Advise them about their tail feathers (i.e., to shake them) and how to get the worm (early). Not being certain that chickens speak English, your best bet may be the noisy "bawk bawk bawk bawk" discussed earlier.
Wear closed-toe shoes if you prefer to protect your red toenails.
*Side note: Sort through leftover salad to make absolute certain that there aren't any stray pieces of chicken hiding beneath the tomatoes. Otherwise, you will watch in horror while your chickens turn into cannibals and eat the very flesh of their own kind. They will be enthusiastic about it, and you will not quite feel the same about chickens after. The guilt, though, will eventually subside. Not that I would know from personal experience. What?
**Now you can get rid of your rice cakes honorably without admitting you were never going to eat them. I was going to eat mine, but there are chickens who are hungry in Africa. How could I eat rice cakes when there are hungry chickens in Africa?
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
URGENT UPDATE
I interrupt whatever else you might be doing to make this important announcement:
Somebody's online search for "tiny rabbits" brought them to this humble blog.
Not even 9 am, and I can already consider today to be a smashing success. Round of carrots! And just when I was starting to think y'all might be tired of those daily bunnies....
Real food & mycology
The baby rabbits have been eating real food for a little more than a week now. It's so sweet to see how they watch their mama eat new foods before they try them. They love cabbage and carrots, and sometimes forgo the veggies entirely in favor of their rabbit kibble (made by Purina... who knew?).
And speaking of real food, my camping husband returned from the woods with a handful of foraged mushrooms (mostly oyster). We ate them with whole wheat gnocchi, charred onion, cherry tomatoes and fresh basil from the garden, brown butter sauce and sauteed kale. Delicious!
Then the next morning, Abe whipped up a veggie scramble with peppers, fresh eggs, and the last of our mushrooms, including a lone dark brown one whose name I can't for the life of me remember. Grandfather something? Maybe Grandfather Gross, because the whole thing tasted like straight dirt. You know that wonderful musty, dank forest smell? I don't recommend eating it.
And speaking of real food, my camping husband returned from the woods with a handful of foraged mushrooms (mostly oyster). We ate them with whole wheat gnocchi, charred onion, cherry tomatoes and fresh basil from the garden, brown butter sauce and sauteed kale. Delicious!
Then the next morning, Abe whipped up a veggie scramble with peppers, fresh eggs, and the last of our mushrooms, including a lone dark brown one whose name I can't for the life of me remember. Grandfather something? Maybe Grandfather Gross, because the whole thing tasted like straight dirt. You know that wonderful musty, dank forest smell? I don't recommend eating it.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Absence make the wife need a farmhand
Things are "off" this weekend at our tiny farm. Abe is out of town on a camping trip with some man-friends. I thought I'd treat myself to a little extra sleep this morning, but Franc (that's the cat, remember, not some sexy milkman) wasn't having it. Since I work weekends and Abe's away, all the animals are clamoring for attention. 15 chickens, 9 rabbits, Franc and Cash (the coon hound) make for a lot of clamor.
We've kept the chickens in their coop and run since yesterday. There's been a hawk stalking around our yard. All the hens get along fine when they're free-ranging it, but literally cooped up I know they're feeling testy.
It's also unseasonably cold - poor me & baby rabbits! We all miss our farmer.
We've kept the chickens in their coop and run since yesterday. There's been a hawk stalking around our yard. All the hens get along fine when they're free-ranging it, but literally cooped up I know they're feeling testy.
It's also unseasonably cold - poor me & baby rabbits! We all miss our farmer.
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