Everybody is Working for the Weekend

It was a labor filled weekend for us. Jason borrowed a bobcat from one of his friends, and he had to do some dirt work around the house. He also had to move a bunch of random farm equipment around. All of this was accomplished with Barrett sitting in the bobcat cab with him. Nothing like sitting in a two by three box with a two year old!

I mentioned, in passing, that I wanted to grow strawberries next spring. Sometimes I think my husband doesn't listen to me, but I guess he does. I said I wanted to live in the country, and he made it happen. I said I wanted chickens, and he made it happen. I said I wanted goats, and he made it happen. I said I wanted to grow strawberries, and he is working to make it happen. He moved a giant stock tank for me and filled it with dirt. It is going to be my mini strawberry farm come spring.
Looky!

I have been researching how to grow strawberries, and it seems that everything eats them. The tank will prevent ground varmints from getting them. I will also have to put a net over them to prevent air varmints (birds) from getting to them. Did you know that strawberries are the state fruit of Oklahoma? I didn't either.

This is totally unrelated, but every time I walk past this, I chuckle. Apparently Jeepzilla, our giant Jeep Cherokee, had a hard time exiting the barn. I have figured that we have four good car batteries and about eight vehicles that must share these batteries. Jason used the old Vietnam era Jeep to yank out the Cherokee instead of playing "musical batteries". They have been sitting in our side yard, connected by a chain for a few days. ahhhh.....Viva la ruralia!

Wordless Wednesday

I Want Candy

So....I'm trying to lose weight, just like ninety percent of women who have had a baby in the past year. I don't want to talk about how much I need to lose versus how much I've lost. It's depressing. If I wasn't breastfeeding, I would just solve the problem with a nice crystal meth habit. Instead, I am trying to eat right and exercise when I can. The weight is coming off, slower than I would like for it to come off, but it's coming off nonetheless.

In general, I eat pretty well. I don't eat fast food, I eat a lot of veggies, blah, blah, blah. I do have ONE problem that is setting me back: my love for candy. I'll find any excuse to buy and consume candy. My main foes are Hershey's bars with almonds, Twix, and the evilest of evil Reese's peanut butter cups. There is a correlation between my candy consumption and my stress level. When the babies are are both crying, the husband is grumpy, and Dammit Farms is more dammity than usual......"I Want Candy" by MC Pee Pants of "Aqua Teen Hunger Force" begins playing in my head.

I dare you to watch and listen. It'll be stuck in your head for life.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UQvLKYu7izQ

That's what I hear in my head while I'm shoveling mini peanut butter cups down my gullet. It's a blissful moment for me.

A Boy and His Turkey

One of our girl turkeys, Mallory, is a little "off". She tends to follow us around, and just lay on the ground right in my way. She is often my shadow while I am doing chores. I mistook her odd behavior for illness several months ago. I was certain that she would just drop dead at any moment. It turns out that she's just crazy, and not ill.

My mother in law was over the other day. She came in from playing with Barrett outside, and asked: "Is that Turkey hungry or something?"

I immediately knew which bird she was speaking of.
"That's just Mallory. She's not right in the head."

"She kept coming up to us and making noise, then laying down." My mother in law reported.

"Yeah. She does that."

It's difficult to explain a crazy pet turkey to visiting guests.

Mallory follows Barrett around like a puppy. Every once in a while Barrett will stop his play and pet her. It's really sweet actually. Despite the fact that she is CrAzY, Mallory is a very tame and lovable bird. She'll eat out of our hand, and she truly seems to enjoy being petted. The dogs are indifferent to her, and she has no regard for their presence. Dammit Farms is a place where poultry and hound dogs coexist peacefully.

Kittens

I figured out where my hens are laying! Last night I was trying to find where my silly goat had put her bowl that I give her treats in. I was poking around in her little house, and noticed they were all piled in a nesting box on the wall (Patty's house was used for chickens like seventy years ago). The hens have nesting boxes in their house, but it would be plumb crazy to lay eggs in there. So, I squeezed my giant booty through Patty's little door, and began collecting eggs. It was getting dark, so I couldn't see very well. I looked up from my egg collecting to notice a ball of fur. My first thought was: "Oh, crap. What died in here?" Upon closer inspection, I realized that the fur was breathing and had a tiny pointed ear. It was a kitten!

I went to get my flashlight and returned to the goat house. I was able to determine that there were three kittens, all different colors. There is an orange kitten, a slate colored kitten, and a blond kitten. The tabby, who I call Lisa, had mysteriously appeared a few weeks ago. She had given birth. I wonder if her parents found out she was pregnant and kicked her out? The kittens all look healthy, and mama is fine. They are only a few days old, since their eyes have not opened yet. I was truly shocked to find them.

My hope is to keep them tame, so I can take them to the vet. All of the cats on our property are cats that just came with the farm. I feed them regularly, and some even let me come close to them, but they aren't tame cats. I am from the suburbs, where we fix our cats, take them to get shots, etc. So, I have a hard time swallowing the whole barn cat phenomena for what it is. My goal is to get my two females on the property, Lisa and Lulu, fixed as well as the new kittens. After all, we aren't cat farmers! My mom may take one of the kittens. If she does, then it will live it's life as a pampered house cat. The others will ALWAYS have food, and a warm, dry place to live here on Dammit Farms.



This was the best picture I could get of the kitten wad.

Couch Tater Tot

Barrett has never really showed much interest in the television, despite my best efforts. He would much rather go outside and play, or break into the refrigerator, dump baking soda all over the place then proceed to roll in it, than sit in front of the tube. No well intentioned parent wants for their child to be a couch potato, however I am desperate to have at least one child who is content and occupied for fifteen minutes (I have already been interrupted three times while typing this to solve the problems of wee redheaded ones. I'm not exaggerating.).

A few days ago the movie "Cars" came on the Disney channel. Barrett was transfixed. He didn't have ANY tantrums for thirty minutes. My husband and I looked at each other, and realized we had the same thought. "We must purchase this movie!" On my next outing, I happily forked over the $14.95 for the DVD. While checking out, I fantasized about Gunther napping, and Barrett sitting quietly for his movie. What would I do with that time? Put away laundry, clean the kitchen counter, update my blog....so many exciting possibilities.

The movie does tend to buy about twenty minutes of Barrett being happy, he won't sit through the whole thing because, well......because he is two. Twenty minutes is better than no minutes, though. Jason put the movie in for him yesterday because he couldn't candle Barrett flinging himself on the floor and screaming anymore. This was the third viewing of the movie in the past two days.
"Have they made a sequel to this yet?" Jason asked.
"I don't think so." I said glumly.
A horrific realization washed over me. Barrett would soon be bored with this movie and it would lose it's hypnotic effect. Or, Jason and I would go completely nuts from watching it over, and over, and over, and over.

Dear Disney,
PLEASE make a sequel to "Cars"!!! Please have it available on DVD by...uh....next week. It's our only hope.

A Horse Nostril

.....and other images of Dammit Farms in August.

It has been pretty uneventful here lately. That's a good thing, because I do tire of posting chicken obituaries on my blog.

• I weaned the goat babies last month. That first day they went without a bottle was no fun. They would cry "ma ma ma ma" every time I walked past their pen. I felt guilty, but I delayed weaning long enough.
• Wyatt (our first Dammit Farms birth) is a month old now. He is into everything. He broke the hood of the lawn mower by jumping on it. He darts in and out of the horse pen, which makes his mama, Patty, very nervous. She chides him in goat language "bahhhh me ah ah MAH!", which I think means "Stop it, you little turd."
• The horses are still here. We are keeping them until my father in law can find a suitable place to move them. Traveler was very interested in the camera, thus the close-up of his nostril. I love the horses, and don't mind them being here one bit. Traveler is a total brat and knocks over his water trough on a daily basis just to get my attention.
• The "baby" goats have a new pen behind the barn. It is much bigger, and has a lot more shade than their old digs. They are adjusting well.
• My poultry is thriving. I suspect it's mating season or something, since every time I see Shaun, my tom turkey, he is puffed up and trying to impress a girl.
• My chickens are still laying in an undisclosed location. I was happy to find one egg yesterday. I hope it is a "new" egg. I'll let Jason be my guinea pig. (I'm kidding, dear)
• My human babies are doing great too. Barrett lives in his "truck truck" we got him for his birthday. Gunther has four teeth now, and is very close to catching up with Barrett in the weight department. Gunther is a chunk.

Redhead Facts

While I was trying to dig up some true redhead facts. I found this link. It's hilarious. They drummed up a bunch of redheads to go protest the racist Wendy's logo. I LOLed.....for real.

http://improveverywhere.com/2007/07/24/redheads/

Okay.....now for some facts(?)

1. Redheads have more sex. My husband may argue that this is false, but here is the article:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-400779/Redheads-sex-blondes-brunettes.html

2. We require more (20% more than most people) anesthesia to be knocked out. I've never been put under, so I can't attest to this either way. I will say that I get the distinct impression that pain meds affect me differently. After having my two c-sections, I was on percocet for several days, but never experienced the sleepiness most people experience. I was AWAKE an high as a kite. Here is the anesthesia article:
http://www.asahq.org/news/redheads.htm

3. Red hair is a recessive trait. It may appear after several generations of darker hair. (Neither of my parents have red hair, but my redheaded kids have a redheaded mama...obviously)

4. The highest percentage of natural redheads in the world is in Scotland (13%), followed closely by Ireland with 10%. In the US, about 2% of the population are natural redheads.

5. Adults have about 120,000 hairs on their head; redheads have fewer, blondes have more, brunettes have the most.

6. Doctors say that Redheads have heavier than usual bleeding post-partum, which is related to low iron retention. (My OBGYN once claimed that "redheads are bleeders". I thought she was just being silly.....but apparently it's true....and....yeah, my iron gets low easily.)

7.Red hair is said to originate from the Vikings(ie Eric the Red).

8. Redheads are more sensitive to pain. This is somehow related to the lack of melanin in the skin. ( http://www.mindhacks.com/blog/2009/08/redheads_more_sensit.html )

9. Redheads have higher IQs than ANYONE. Okay...that's not a fact, but I like to think that.

10. God made all the good ones redheads, so he can pick them out of the crowd. (Don't ask me for my sources on that one)

Tractor Pulls and Calf Fries

Fair season has begun in Oklahoma. We attended a local fair on Saturday for two specific reasons: so that Barrett could view the tractor pull, and Jason could stuff his face with calf fries.

I may have mentioned Barrett's fascination with all vehicles. His favorites word is undoubtedly "truck". "Truck" applies to most things with wheels, though. We are still working on "train", "tractor", "car", etc. We were pretty sure that he would be excited to see some "truck truck"s, or tractors. I don't think that I had ever heard of a tractor pull until I moved to Oklahoma. If you have never attended one, I will give you a synopsis of what occurs at a "tractor pull".
1. People show up with their tractors. By people, I mean men between the ages of 52 and 109 who wear wranglers and baseball hats.

2. They mill about, chatting about tractory stuff while complimenting one another on their 1952 John Deere, or 1960 Case (no, mom, there is no such thing as a Hoight-Clagwell like Mr. Douglas has in Green Acres). There is a big division between brands. We are Case people because we have a Case. ....no arguments. The John Deere people look down on Case people, and the Case people think the John Deere people are snobs. There are a lot of subtleties to this tractor stuff. I won't pretend that I understand it.

3. Once the track ( a 200 yard strip of dirt) is prepared, the tractors get in line to begin the "pull". What do they pull? Something called a sled, but it's really a piece of machinery with a weight on it....I think.

4. The tractors take turns pulling the "sled". The point? Uhhhhhhhh.............

Well, Barrett enjoyed it anyway.

Then we got food. Jason gets very excited about this particular fair, because they serve calf fries from the local high school's Agricultural program. Do you want to know what they are? I'm warning you: it's gross!
Calf fries are the harvested testicles from the male calves from when they neuter them. They batter them and fry them. They resemble fried oysters in appearance and texture. Calf fries are a rural Oklahoma delicacy....mmmhmm.....I guess.

Seriously?

This is my day so far:
Barett woke up in a bad mood at 6:45 this morning. He immediately wanted his shoes, so he could go outside. The raging thunderstorm seemed a small trifle to him, and not a legitimate reason to not leave the house. I told him "no", and he launched into a screaming fit. Once he was over that fit, he proceeded to go steal a toy from his little brother. While I was breaking up the baby fight, the dog stole my toast from the kitchen counter.

I started a pot of coffee. Then I realized that Dan, the dog, had been outside for an awful long time. I vaguely remember unplugging the electric fence last night, because something (it's usually a rabbit that is the culprit) had tripped over the wire, thus dis-engaging it. The fence control thingy was beeping, so I turned it off......then forgot. Dan was on the back of our property harassing a barn cat. I went out to get him, with Gunther tucked under my arm, and dragged him back in the house (oh....did I mention the thunderstorm?). The coffee was brewing into a puddle onto the counter, and then the floor. I hadn't engaged the lid right, and had created a huge mess of "burnt bean water" (I stole the burnt bean water term from one of my sister's friends).

Barrett has also managed to have about sixteen more tantrums since he has been awake. I know why people drug their children. I wouldn't do it, but I do know why.......

Can I just go back to bed? I give up.

Dear Hens,

I don't so much care that mothering is just "not your thing" and that you just lay eggs any ol' where. Could you girls possibly develop an egg-laying pattern, or something? Lay in the horse pen on Wednesdays, the goat pen on Thursdays, the hen house on weekends, and so forth? You girls used to lay in the hen house more so than not. What was wrong with that? Did that become too boring and predictable?

I do not enjoy this "every day is Easter" theme we have going. I have a lot of things to do. You know those little redheaded things that follow me everywhere? Those are my children. I hatched them, and now I must make sure that they stay alive. You may have noticed that you share your area with many other animals. I am in charge of feeding them all. I do not have time to prancing around with a basket looking for eggs. I'm pretty sure that there is a snake out there who is much better at finding them anyway.

I don't think that I am really asking that much. I do feed you, and look out for your general well-being. I would like a few eggs as payment. Have you seen the conditions that most laying hens live in? It's ugly. They don't get to tramp around the countryside, eating bugs and frolicking in the creek. I'm just sayin.....

Audrey, your loving caretaker who would love to know where the goddam eggs are, because she be hungry.....mmmkay?