Cheers and Tears

The week began with tears.  

Last Monday, we had to sit down with the Boy and really drive it home for him that we are going to be moving.  He doesn't want to leave:  he's going to miss the farm, the fields, his school, but mostly the chickens.  I assured him that Country Kitty agreed to keep the chickens, and I was certain we would be able to come out and see them.

His tears hurt both our hearts a little.  All three of us have grown accustomed to the farm, and all of us will miss it in some way.  The Husband will miss it more than I will, since this is his dream.  However, the farm has grown on me.  I'll admit there are things I've come to like about living in the country.  But, we have to find a place to live until the right opportunity presents itself.  So, we are looking at places both in town and in the country, if the commute for the Husband won't be any worse.

In the meantime, we are all determined to enjoy life here to the fullest.  The Boy and the Husband cleared out the upper field on Saturday.  The Boy has been spending even more time outside, playing frisbee and unfortunately chasing the chickens:  he loves the sounds they make.  I've just suggested to him that maybe he ought to record them, so he'll have the sound forever.  Big smiles.

white peaches

The peaches in the barnyard have come in finally.  White peaches, sweet as can be.  I don't know if I am going to have enough to attempt canning any.  Sad, that.  But the pears are also coming in, and we all shared a beautiful but tiny apple.

fixing a broken handle

Early last week, the chicken waterer appeared to have been knocked down.  Alas, the red carrying handle had broken somehow.  I found a suitable object to set the waterer down on, but wasn't relishing having to buy a new waterer.  I grumbled about it for a few days, and was working up to a new one, when it occurred to me that I could fix it!  I found some heavy wire, a few plastic corks from wine bottles, and went to work.  It is really cool, and way more comfortable to carry than the other had been.  I haven't rehung it, however, as I am not certain if the wire will keep its shape if it is holding 5 gallons of water underneath.

Sheila, the Eastern black swallowtail

We are not only raising chickens here on the farm.  All our work to preserve some butterfly habitats paid off!  The boys discovered tons of caterpillars in the fields this weekend.  We captured one (now called Sheila) and put in the Boy's Butterfly Habitat.  Sheila didn't do anything much on Sunday, but this morning, I found a cocoon!  Very exciting...

rat snake skeleton

The boys also uncovered the remains of the snake we killed:  nothing left but bones.  

The bones make me think about what we leave behind, how we affect the world and lives around us.  We've been here a year now, and I can see signs of our presence here:  the reconstructed chicken coop with its big pen, the white laurel, the new path through the woods, Katt's grave, all those funny trails in the lower field, the trees we've trimmed from the paths, the new lawn near the sunroom.  

But, the farm is also leaving its own trace on us.  The Boy identifies plants and bushes, where once he asked if everything was poison ivy.  He has no fear of wild animals now, and indeed recognizes that the cute fluffy bunnies are evil beasts from Troll Planet X, and that the majestic eagles we've glimpsed are a danger to our chickens.

I've learned how to use a riding mower, and how to dodge potholes.  I automatically climb into my muckers when I leave the house to chase down the dog or check on the chickens.  I rarely leave the house without my phone, so I can snap pictures of cool spiders or weird scat or an unusual footprint.  Heck, when I walk into a spider web, I don't even shriek anymore.  

Well, not as much, anyway.

The trees are beginning to turn, and leaves are falling already.  My garden is past its prime, and I've been considering planting a fall crop of greens and maybe broccoli.  At every task or observation, I now remember fondly how I handled it last year.

Memories fade.  But I did two amazing things last year, and will benefit for the rest of my life from them.  First, I agreed to try this whole living-in-the-country thing.  Second, I decided to create a blog so Country Kitty could see what we were experiencing.  I've recorded many of the big experiences, and more importantly, lots of little ones.  I'll have this forever.

But, in the meantime, I have two more months to live here.

And I will be living it.

Sounds In The Rain

(and now for something completely different)

These are the sounds I might hear in the rain
when I walk the fields this morning:
the drip drip drip of individual drops into puddles of standing water;
or the soothing applause of the rain as it meets the treetops
and the soprano hiss as I move beneath the pines;
the percussive patter of the falling rain in the gravel;
or perhaps the calm chirping of two cardinals as they hunker down
into the fading tall grasses, and take startled flight at my approach;
the rustling and snapping of dead wood as a doe abandons
her warm nest among the fallen leaves, flashing a glimpse of white;
and the steady rumble of the water disturbing the surface of the pond
and the splashes of the tiny rivers forming in the earth.

Those are the sounds I might have heard in the rain
as I walked in the fields today
and learned that I am no country girl:
for these are the sounds I did hear in the rain
and noted
when I walked the fields:
the protests of the dead thistle as the dog galloped gleefully along the path;
the steady swishing of my rubber boots
tangling with leaves and grasses
as they carried them along for a noisy ride;
the airplane beginning its descent as it approached the airport thirty miles away;
the occasional hiss of a car passing on the muddy dirt road across the field
and the distant wail of a siren far to the east;
and the noisy buzzing of my cell phone next to my body
as it vibrated a useless notice about the rain.
But mostly, what I heard
was the sharp and incessant tapping of raindrops overhead
as they struck the umbrella,
that I could not convince myself to set aside.

-hv
October 10, 2013

Move is a Four Letter Word.

You've missed me?  That is sweet... unless you are annoyed that I haven't posted anything in a bit.  Trust me when I tell you that I don't intentionally annoy... well, I do, but in this case, I didn't.

I moved.  It was a special kind of hell.

See, I was supposed to move at the end of June.  And I planned my summer teaching schedule around that.  So, the summer camp was scheduled for the last two full weeks of July.  It was perfect.  Until it wasn't.  We extended our lease by a month so that we could get closer to a working move-in date at the farm.  So, I packed all through the month of June, into the first two weeks of July...although I also had to write an original script from scratch.  Which I did.  Which meant I hadn't quite gotten all the packing I had hoped to have done by the time my class began.  And so I taught, and packed only on the weekend....

Okay, boring story.  The point is, we had to be out of the townhouse at the end of July 31.  We made it... if you count before sunrise on August 1 as part of July 31.  No joke.  I was cleaning and packing vehicles until 4:30 a.m.  August 1, I wore my "Crit Happens" t-shirt.

So, about half of our belongings are in two climate controlled storage units.  Two-thirds of the remaining are at the farm, crowded into one room,more or less.  The remaining is with us as we crash at my Wine Friend's apartment while he is halfway across the world on vacation.  We move into the farm next week.

I am so excited!  In the meantime, we've been canning and freezing produce.  I now have something like 12 quarts of ratatouille frozen, and just canned 7 pints of hot peppers!  And the husband canned 6 jars of an amazing bread and butter/relish hybrid.  

My poor puppy has been living at the farm since July 31, and while she is enjoying the farm, she's missing us.  I miss her, too.  She is working out a relationship with Cat, the farm cat.

In the meantime, I am cooling my heels at a cool urban village with shopping and restaurants that I can see from my window!  We went to a movie on Friday and bowling on Saturday, for heaven's sake!  What a difference it will be going from this environment (which I confess, I am kinda digging) to 10 acres out in the country along a gravel road.

This will have been the weirdest month in my entire life.

Hello... or, Howdy! (An Introduction)

I have always lived in the city.  Well, at least suburbia.  Towns.  Small cities.

This summer, it looks as though I will be living on a 10 acre farm in the country.  I'll have a tractor, chickens, a garden as big as I choose to make it, and a pond!  Maybe a sheep!

There will also be ticks and spiders and stinkbugs.  And mice.  Possums.  Deer.  Maybe even some otters!

Now, I love my high heels, my cute hats, and fancy purses.  But, I also love hiking and gardening, and I already have a dog!  So, I'm ready for this.  Right?

Right?

What is that chirping sound?  Birds?  Cicadas?  Crickets?  A chipmunk?

Well, at least this will be entertaining for my readers.  I'll take pictures, and describe what I am learning, and how I am surviving, and any other thing that will demonstrate my ability to laugh at myself.  Someone will learn something, and I suspect it will be me.

The move will be sometime in August.  Until then, posts may be sporadic.