House Update

No. We're not in it yet, but goodness we've made progress. The Redneck would argue that it's quite slow, and with forcasts of snow this coming week I'd be happy to agree with him, but considering all involved we've done quite well. Thankyouverymuch.

Or rather HE'S done quite well. I just leave him stuck with Ze Bebe and go off to work.  Thanks again dear Redneck (who does not reads this blog as he gets the email subscription but has a general 'ignore all emails from the potamus' policy, so...) for all you do.

Those will soon carry water all over the house!

My super pricey bathtub we got for like 60% off. Woot!

And we have a shower in the upstairs bathroom...

Septic tank. In the ground. BOOYA!

Next up: electrical! Yay!

Family Time

We're an odd unit in the traditional sense of the word 'family'. I recent had a discussion with one of our younger members all about what a 'real' family is. With missing pieces, substitute pieces, step pieces, grand pieces, grand step pieces, half pieces, and nary a 'real' title among us (except maybe Zora and Luke as 'the family dogs'), this can be a tough one for a kid to wrap their head around. And while I wish that these sorts of discussions weren't so necessary at times, I am so incredibly happy and extremely grateful that we are at a point where they can happen. Because I take my job as the family 'hippie' tremendously seriously, and it warms my heart to know that these kids can talk to me.

And it warms my heart when we get to spend 'real' family time together to do fun stuff. Recently we went to the Natural Science Center of Greensboro (again for me and the Acorn. But what can I say. He loves the Pendulum). It was the first time for Sissy, and the Acorn got to show her his favorite bits. Needless to say, she was more impressed with the animals than the pendulum, but that was part of the fun. When we all went to the one in Raleigh a few weeks ago, she had been and we had not, so it was his turn to take the lead.

We had fun!

The Health Education room seemed to be immensely interesting to kids of all ages...

We tried to feed the Acorn to the resident T-Rex, but he spit him out (too bony).

It was a fairly warm day and this tiger climbed down the 'cliffs' the have set up, backed into the pool up to his neck, and proceeded to make these faces.

Practicing for when we get goats.

Teaching the redneck how to operate the 2 man submarine. (this is important stuff, guys)

Update in Pictures

Again - I apologize my dear friends and Lone Reader (hi mom!) for my absence. I seem to be apologizing for that particular thing a LOT these days, but life has picked up its already ridiculously fast pace, and I have no idea where the time is going. I feel perpetually behind on all things, but am hell bent on enjoying today with the kiddleywinks. Yes.

So without further ado, please admire my beauteous captions and pretend to be updated in no particular order (because the blog is not cooperating):

Re-post this may be, but happy to be seeing these guys in our garden. They keep nibbling critters away and if they're around, big copper colored ones are not.

The Lone Reader bought us these Vincas while she was visiting so I would have something pretty to look at amongst the bare dirt, chicken poop, and the flotsam and jetsam. They are thriving.

New 'pants chickens'! We got four Silkie chicks, 2 black and 2 buff. The boys call them 'pants chickens' for obvious reasons.

Cindy is molting. And she looks like a porcupine.

This guy was stunningly beautiful despite his only having 7 legs.

Some of the 'baby' chickens checking out the new Silkie arrivals.

Cotton flowering

When I ran out of gas mowing the meadow, the Redneck came to my rescue on (in?) his trusty Yota steed.

The Vincas are re-seeding themselves already

Silly Silkies - can you find all 4?

WTF North Carolina people. These didn't move the whole 10 minutes it took me to get this picture.

While the mass o' freaky caterpillars wasn't moving, I picked 3 gallons of these.

A couple of hours later they had changed color, grown spikes and gotten both more hairy and more scary.

Engagements

My life seems to be so full of engagements these days - things I mostly don't want to do or feel obligated to do or whathaveyou... doctor's appointments, work, errands... even mundane or fun things get that 'ugh. Do I HAVE to?' treatment a lot these days. Of all things, shoe shopping (I need a pair of running shoes for work) is becoming the bane of my existence.

However. There is one engagement that does not feel obligatory or weighty or anything other than exciting - the Redneck finally caved and we're getting hitched! There's a while before any fun nuptual-esque activity takes place, but since it's taking me (literally) months to buy new work shoes, this is probably a good thing. And I am honestly so excited about marrying my man that I like having the time to relish this giddiness. Yay!

Yes. He will kill me when he sees this post. In a month or two :)

A Very Manly Birthday

A Happy Birthday to the Manfriend!

Poor guy. Last year he got an awesome (ifImaysaysomyself) Zelda cake that shall go down in the Stoneyhaw annals of cakes as legendary.

This year he got responsibility, work, and no cake (yet. Jury's still out).

When I was little, birthdays were magical things. Mine happened to be at the end of the summer, and my parents usually took the opportunity to throw a big party and invite all their friends and co-workers (I remember the year I was old enough to think "wait. What?! It's MY birthday! Why am I only allowed 5 friends?!?!"). There was always grilling, beer, outside running around, and general fun. My seventh birthday was 'at the farm' at The Forman School, and I got a kitten, and there was volleyball. Seventh? May have been sixth. I forget. I was itty bittier than I am now (please no short jokes). And that was just the birthdays we were in town. More often than not we were off on a (camping) trip somewhere on the east coast... Anyway I digress...

I never did understand why my parents didn't make a bigger fuss on their own birthdays. Birthdays are magical! was about as far as my little brain got. And while I still fundamentally believe that, it gets harder and harder every year to get excited about my own birthday, and easier and easier to give in to being too tired or broke or disinterested to do anything.

I felt bad as I sent my sniffly man off to work this morning on his birthday, with him not quite feeling himself and me not quite feeling myself, although mine was due to my lack of having done much special for him.

I told the spawn this morning it was his Daddy's birthday (see? more ineptitude...should have had a secret plan. ugh. I'll get there...) and his eyes lit up. Possibly not for quite the reasons I was expecting:

"February 1st is my dad's birthday? Woohoo! It'll be MY birthday soon!"

"your birthday is in 5 months, little man"

"5 months and 7 days, hippie!"

And then he proceeded to stare off into the not-as-distant future presumably imagining the magicalness of his coming birthday. Good grief I love this kid.

And despite my ineptitude at having David-involved birthday-related activities planned for him, I do sincerely wish my man a very happy birthday.

Family walk to the pond in the sunshine.

Henrietta's Day Off

I was at work. The manfriend sent me a txt simply saying 'Henrietta's sick'.

My heart stopped.

They may just be chickens, but they're MY chickens. And I do love them so. And this wasn't just any chicken, but Henrietta. The prodigal hen.

I got a hold of the manfriend and he filled me in on the deets. She was lethargic, off her feed, and had gone pale in the comb and wattle. I had him palpate her belly and vent, check her airways, feel her crop, listen to her breathing.... nothing. I also told him to give her a bath. To his credit, his only response was 'a bath? Like hot water and soap bath?', when I responded in the affirmative, he said OK, got off the phone, and got to it. And boy would I have liked to have seen him lathering her up and then blow drying her fluffy feathers.

Henrietta spent the day at home with Mike, sitting on the rubbermaid tub we use as a side table and really not moving much. Mike spoon-fed her water with honey in it, and hand-fed her feed.

Sleeping chicken

When I got home, I gave her a once over and noticed that she is growing in A LOT of feathers. As in a large percentage of the feathers on her body are new. It's her first year and we haven't noticed her losing any, but it's clear that she is growing a bunch. Which would seriously explain her being so tired and off. It takes a lot of energy to grow feathers. They're mostly protein, after all.

She felt like a fluff-covered porcupine

See? They grow in with a sheath, and then it gradually falls off to reveal the floof.

Kinda reminds me of those hair wraps that were big in the 90's...

And when we got home from going out to eat (at our favorite place in Burlington), Henrietta was looking a fair amount better and started showing interest in food again. Read: she obligingly ate all of my leftover shredded lettuce. Like a champ!

She's much better and off with the flock, although still not quite up to 100%. I did give everyone a boost of ACV in their water, and yesterday before I wet to work I made them a smoothie. Yogurt, garlic & banana. Oh my!

Enjoying a morning smoothie.

New Year's Resolution

Most years my New Year's resolution is a resolution NOT to make any. For if you don't make any, you won't break any. But 2011 was an odd year for me, and let's just say that with the amount of responsibilities I managed to take on, one little resolution shouldn't be TOO difficult...

I do have a tendency to go on and on about said manfriend, but in all seriousness - nothing out here would work without him. And since he is so pulled in many directions and does many things for so many people, I figure he should have ONE thing done for him - consistently.

Dinner. I settled on dinner. I will make dinner for the 3 of us, everyday. I had already been doing it more often than not, but with my working nights 2 or 3 nights a school week, those days were up in the air. Now I make sure that there is something on the stove or in the oven or something for when he and the spawn get home and I'm not here.

What I DIDN'T count on was how this would benefit me. (This is, after all, supposed to be about the manfriend). When I work nights I often bring something home with me - soup or a salad or something - and I don't usually end up eating what I've left for them. But. Working nights means I'm home in the mornings...and soups/stews are the easiest thing to reheat and get better with time (not to mention being seasonally appropriate). And so I end up eating the leftovers for breakfast. And I think I might be getting the better end of the deal here ...

Split pea and ham hunk soup. With Rye toast. For brekky. On a day where I had more energy, there would be a fried egg on top. But that might make the boys *too* jealous.

Maybe next year my resolution will be to make my own chicken feed...

Harvest

Whoa. So the 4 that were slated to move from the chicken palace to the fridge have done so.

If the notion of this bothers you, read no further. If the notion of me, your friend/daughter/granddaughter/niece/goddaughter/fairy-goddaughter/employee/coworker/acquaintance/neighbor/stranger, assisting in the demise and butchery of a chicken bothers you please go elsewhere.

That said, here we go. My humble (and humbled) thoughts on the subject. There aren't too many pictures involved because...well I was involved. The manfriend and I exhibited the teamwork that professional sports teams can only dream of in dispatching these roos. I am proud of us. Considering this was our first time out killing chickens together or out here. And our utensils prove to be lacking somewhat.

We had the 4 sequestered for such a day as Mike and I had off together. Today was that day. First things first. The spawn had finally saved up enough allowance for a new wii game, so off to the store we went where he proudly handed over a small fortune comparable to what I make over the course of a few days at work, and home we went with groceries and a new game. The manfriend and I went out and got stuff ready to go.

Large pot on a burner outside for scalding. Worked perfectly.

 We used a canner pot from my grandmother (who hopefully isn't reading this post) to scald the chickens. It worked perfectly. I was extremely happy with it. With a burner the manfriend had and my cheesemaking thermometer, we were set.

Slip knots, nail and a twist does the job

Heritage chicken.

 I don't have any pictures of the killing process. We secured them to a tree as best we could (I devised a slip-knot rope tie for their feet that I'm sure everyone else out there uses, but it was new to me), and slit their throats. We did it so they would go out as calmly as possible. By the fourth (and final for today!) we had it down pat. No one suffered too much, though.

I have to say that I found it to be extremely important for me to stand and watch the chickens as they left this earth. I couldn't watch the manfriend cut their lifeblood and then walk away. It felt disrespectful somehow to walk away while they were getting to the end of their roaming days, although I'm sure I was not on their minds at all.

Plucking

 The first guy got dry plucked halfway, and then scalded. Really we just wanted to see how tough it was. It was tough. We gave them a dunk and all went much smoother. I don't know that it took too much time at all.

I had nothing to do with the cutting of throats, and some to do with the scalding and plucking. The manfriend did the majority of these chores. Butchering, however, was my deal.

And here's the deal. I kind of didn't do as well as I would have liked, nor as well as I have done in the past. I am not squeamish. Not at all. (Ok. My mother will correct me and interject that eyes bother me. And yes. Yes they do. But these chickens were headless at this point, so no worries there) But it has been a LONG time since I have gutted a chicken (or anything for that matter), and I couldn't remember how to get the whole damn package out. I just couldn't. My iPhone may have been in my back pocket, but I had chicken all over my hands (gloves are for sissies) and I was too busy racing the sunshine - it actually almost got warm today and I really didn't want the carcasses staying warm longer than necessary. So I cut the pieces off the bodies, got the gizzard and cut off the breastbones for soup.

I am happy to report I remembered to label the bags BEFORE filling them. Easier this way. I am unhappy to report that the nagging feeling that I had forgotten something at the store earlier was totally true, and I did not have enough gallon bags.

 Even with the meat that I couldn't get cleanly off the bone due to not being able to stick my hand in the body cavity, and because my knife wasn't nearly as sharp as I needed it to be (and no, can't find the whetstone. And yes, my sharpening steel is a bit worn out), we got 18.6 pounds of meat. Not including necks, breastbones and gizzards.

Rinsing before packaging.

 And now what? We wait. We wait for the chicken meat to cure somewhat in the fridge. Rigor mortis has to come and go and the enzymes in the meat need to kick in to tenderize it up a bit. And as the roosters were 6 - 7 months old (instead of 12 weeks...) we need all the tenderizing we can get.

So while the breastbones make broth:

and boy will we need this broth to stew the meat later!

tonight we feast on homemade pizza...

and stuffed crust pizza at that!

More Space!

So here's *part* of the reason why I've been MIA... we've been adding some space to stretch out in. Yay!

If you're friends with me on FB, you've seen these pictures, but here they are in their expanded and expounded upon glory nonetheless.

Manfriend had done some research on our best options for expanded space for this winter. Really we can't afford to build a house (by like a LOT), but my beloved Melvin would be a bit crammed with the 3 of us... so basically we need just one more room to get through the winter and not kill each other. I think we found a happy medium between what we can afford and what we need. I drove down and finalized everything, and gave them delivery instructions.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered.

 Our materials and blueprints were delivered the next day.

Chicken approved worksite.

Manfriend recruited a buddy, and the two of them started working on it Sunday evening. They got the toughest (in my non-participating humble opinion) part done that day - placement and squaring and leveling the bottom of the whole thing.

When you look at it this way, it looks huge. Wait. It kind of is.

 The boys did well amongst the chickens and the puppy.

Early the next morning, they had the floor finished.

 The next morning, as the boys finished the floor, the chickens and the dog had found a new favorite cool place to hang out.

Zora is helping.

Wall #1!

 Yes. At this point I hid. I had tears in my eyes. When wall number one went up is when it all kind of sunk in - that I will soon get my manfriend here all the time, and that he and I can start figuring out what to do/where to go (metaphorically speaking, thankyouverymuch) from here.

(Thankfully Mike never reads this blog - otherwise I will NEVER hear the end of it for that one)

The other walls went up rather quickly.

 By the time I got home from work on the second day, They had ROOF RAFTERS on. It was awesome. It reminded me of the first time I drove home to the property and saw Melvin gleaming off in the distance... a first glimpse on what will soon be my normal "almost home" view from the car in the dark.

Heat makes you loopy.

Those two boys did the good work. OMG. Yesterday they got a bit of a respite, but day number 1 and day number 3 (today) was blazing hot. BLAZING. Day number 1 more so, but today they had the distinct luxury of being up on the roof in full sun with roofing felt and asphalt shingles...

I felt guilty not helping, but there wasn't anything I could have done. Mike's buddy is SO efficient and good at construction, combined with Mike's renaissance man quality (and previous dabblings in various construction projects himself), they needed no help from me. Except for the occasional run to town for ice, nails, and gyros :)

Taking shape...

As Mike and co really needed to get back to their neck of the woods, they got the roof done, and the key pieces of siding on. Mike'll be back at the end of the week and we'll start knocking out the rest. I will finally get to help - by holding up siding while he nails and by trying to stay out of the way...

Yet another way in which a redneck further hooks a hippie.

Experiment within an Experiment

I’m kind of looking at this year’s garden as a bit of an experiment. While my mission statement of sorts still holds trued, I am new to the climate, as well as this scale of gardening, and haven’t had the time to get the soil prepped the way I would have liked. So whatever flourishes this year is an absolute keeper, and we’ll tweak and readjust/throw stuff out next year.

But one thing I want to grow is tea.

I grew up very close to one of the oldest and most famous tea growing regions in Japan. Driving through the countryside always involved corduroy-like hillsides whizzing by, and school camping trips often involved roasting our own tea over a campfire. I took tea ceremony with my mother for many years and dang it, it was Japan. Tea is involved in just about everything.

While I don’t get why people don’t grow more of their own food, I do understand why more people don’t grow tea. It does need a warmer, moister climate, and it’s just not as deeply embedded in out culture here in the west. And black tea is a pain in the ass to produce. It’s a bit labor-intensive so why would one make it themselves? Unless you are me, who has to make everything at least once.

There are a few commercial tea operations in the US, but not many. And there are a few family-run businesses that sell tea plants online. Enter the brokenness again. I can get one plant for about $20, or 5 seeds for $2.50. As I am planting about 60 different kinds of seeds this year (gasp!), I went with the seeds.

I planted them today. If they don’t germinate, next year we’ll try our hand at not killing plants. But still so excited!!

First things first, they’re huge. Since they keep the tea bushes meticulously pruned in Japan, you rarely see seeds in Japan. This was, I think, my first encounter with actual seeds. (Oddly enough I’ve seen fossilized ones in museums in Japan on school field trips)

Look closer. Those puppies are awesome looking.

I did have an epiphany during the planting of the tea seeds today. I have plastic domed tops for seed flats, but I wanted to start these guys in a bigger container and I didn’t have anything to act as a mini greenhouse. Thankfully my man loves frappuccinos, and I happened to have a few of his empties lying around. I slapped some tape over the hole the straw goes through, and voila! Mini greenhouse!

If I can get my man to drink tall’s instead of venti's, they might fit better. But this is still totally functional and I’m happy with it. I’m anticipating that they will give the tea seeds a better fighting chance.