Farm Living

We are moved into the new house. Well, the house isn't new, but it's new to us. We moved into an old farmhouse, and we're not certain how old it is. We do know that the octogenarian farmer down the road says it has been there as a long as he can remember. We also know that boulders hold up two corners of the house. So.....it's really old. It's a work in progress. I describe it as a little "Green Acres", which irritates my husband, but it is the truth. You know how Lisa Douglas would open her closet and be outside? It's not that bad, but we do have some "rustic" exposed wood walls.



I am the proud owner of 14 chickens (we had 15, but one died), and 12 guineas. We got them all as babies. The chickens are getting big, and it seems that we may have a disproportionate number of roosters. This is bad because we wanted a bunch of laying hens, and also because roosters don't always get along. I'm going to start an amateur cock-fighting league for some extra cash.



I'm hoping that the guineas put a dent in the trillions of ticks on our property. They are cute little docile things right now. They let me pick them up and cuddle them. They'll look like martian chickens when they get big. (see pic)



Dan has Spent the past three weeks engaged in World War III with a groundhog, which has resulted in numerous massive hole in the yard. When he's not digging, he's laying in the grass, panting, waiting for the groundhog to emerge. He has a lot less time for other mischief since he has found this new obsession. He comes in at night filthy and tired, not wanting to get in the trash or steal food from the baby's high chair. I'm willing to accept the potentially ankle-breaking craters in exchange for the complacent canine.