The Garden

We’ve been busy lately, getting things ready for spring and getting Becca into her own apartment. Boo hoo! Its not like we saw a lot of her anyways, and I hear from other moms, that they see more of their kids after they first move out, we’ll see. I hope so. Gas was just too expensive since she is working 2 counties away from ours, she opted to pay rent and move close to work. Its not real official, she isn’t changing her address or anything, giving it a few months and is keeping the door open to move back in if it doesn’t work out. She’ll be sharing an apartment with a friend from church. It’s a pretty new complex in a good part of town and since she works with the police department, she had the inside scoop on where the safest complexes are. I see a sense of satisfaction and independence in her that is pretty cool. Time to try her wings.

Here on the homestead I’ve been working on the garden. I have changed proposed garden spots several times, but finally settled on a spot up the hill behind the house that gets a reasonable amount of sunlight. I had seen part of a foundation and a set of steps up there and assumed a barn had previously resided there. However as I began to dig I suspected it was a house and sure enough after inquiring of one of the longtime neighbors I learned there was an old mining shack there. It housed some miners in the area. I suspected there is a mineshaft nearby as we have lots of bats every summer around the house. The UPS guy mentioned an old copper mine just down the hill a ways. I have to ask the neighbors about that and see what they know. I know there is an abandon shaft near the firehouse at the bottom of the mountain. Josh has been in it, says it was a hang out, evidenced by the chairs, card table, and numerous beer bottles.

Anyhow, I dug up some interesting but worthless artifacts where the shack was. Tons of nails and glass, part of a spoon, a couple broken medicine bottles, the sole of a shoe, furniture parts, buttons, scissors, belt buckles, an arrow head and tons of empty rife shells. I dreamed of doing an archeological dig when I was a kid and loved the school field trips to Fort Atkinson to see the museum and dig there, so this was pretty cool even though it wasn’t of much value. I got enough items to fill a gallon pail from just a 2x3’ square. I figure at this rate it will take me years to dig it all, so I decided to go ahead with the garden as planned and just dig a bit more of it each year.

A tree was growing up right in the middle of the spot, so that was removed. It was pretty close to the house and I think when they dug out the hill to build the house they cut into its drip line. Last fall it breathed its last breath. Josh & his friend cut it down for me one day last week. They assured me they knew what they were doing. I tried to remember that as it fell directly toward the house. I had the camera out and ready, documenting the work, but ya know when it fell toward the house, taking a picture of the fall was pretty much the last thing on my mind. Way behind things like “OOOOH CRAP!!!” “Steve’s gonna kill me,” “and the insurance company isn’t going to be too fond of me either” “Oh look there goes Josh hanging onto the rope sliding down the hill” and a host of other random thoughts all flashing through my brain at lightening speed in the second or two that it took to hit the ground. I am happy to report that it managed somehow to miss the house by just a matter of feet. The UPS guy just happened to be delivering a package, so he stopped and watched the whole thing unfold and got a good chuckle out of it, equally impressed that it missed the house.

I spent the rest of the day clearing the visible stones from the 18x33 garden space, creating 2 piles, one on each end of the garden, both piles about 5’ across, along with lots of sticks and tons of grass that I’ll compost and turn back into the soil in a year or two. I’ve got some chain link I’ll put up with some hog panels welded over the top to keep the deer out. Still lots to do for sure.

The 6 chicks that hatched late January were moved to the coop today. I put up a fence to get them used to the big guys but yet keep them safe. At night I’ll move them back into the garage and in a few weeks they should be safe enough to release in with the rest.

On a sad note, the roos killed Hopper the one-legged chicken. I thought she was finally safe. She just started coming out when I fed the rest of the gang and didn’t seem to get picked on or chased away any more, but one afternoon when I went up to gather eggs I found her dead in the chicken yard. It was sad as she used to follow me around and hide from the roosters behind me. Survived a bobcat attack, but succumbed to the roosters. My newest roos are more aggressive...well, were…they are in the freezer now.


Josh with the chainsaw....here goes. Behind the lens, I'm kinda hoping he knew what he was doing.

Knocking out the chock with a maul.

For some reason, this picture makes me laugh. Surveying the damage so far and figuring out how to proceed from there. I think the concensus was "hmm, we got a long way to go."


There goes the tree, just missing the house, draging Josh behind it. I laughed, "Did you think you'd hold it back?" He laughed, "I just was hoping to sway it to the side a bit." It actually fell slightly to the side and in doing so missed the house. Maybe next time he'll take my advice and tie it off somewhere behind. But then again, I guess his way worked.


Cutting up the spoils. We'll appreciate the wood next winter.


The new garden spot, now to get it tilled and get a fence up.


My new clothes line I had him put in too. I used to use a rope tied across the back porch.

The Town Clinic

As my sister is fond of saying, I live in "the middle of nowheresville.” The closest town is 10 miles away and consists of oh, I don’t know, maybe about 200 inhabitants. Although at any given time only about 5 can be seen wandering aimlessly around town. And in reality those are probably either tourists or local cyclists. So “town” may be too big a word. Maybe it’s more like a village or perhaps a large extended household. Guess that should have been the first indicator.

Believe it or not, there does happen to be a clinic in town, right next to the local tavern…ummm, ok, second indicator. Well, I figured I’d check it out on something of a minor nature. You know, see how they do, compared to the big town further away. The Dr, after all, had privileges at the main hospital in the next town and it would be handy to not have to travel 50 miles for medical attention. So I called and made an appointment to have a mole removed. I have this crazy mole on my lower eye lid that I had when I was a kid. I was so self conscious about it growing up, assuming everyone was staring at it as they talked to me. It’s size is less than half a grain of rice, but it may as well have been neon and blinked. I had it removed when I was about 19 or so and for some random reason 20 some years later it decided to grow back.

So I call and set up an appointment to have it removed. Mind you it’s the size of a pin head, but still, I haven’t outgrown the self-conscious nature of it, so ya, its going bye bye. The receptionist asks in great detail its location, size, how far in on my eye, which eye, etc. I felt we had covered more than enough aspects in regards to this thing. Oh, by the way, I tell her, I have another one on the top of my head, may as well take both off at once.

Well, I arrive at my appointment to find out the Dr. is on vacation. A nurse practitioner will do the dirty work. I guess the Dr. didn’t tell the staff he would be out? Indicator three. So I’m in the procedure room waiting and looking around. Ok, this room is quite disorganized and is doing triple duty; it’s a linen room, equipment storage room, procedure room, maybe even the lunch room….indicator four.

The nurse walks in to take my blood pressure, “So you have a wart were removing?” Uh, no not exactly, it a mole…guess that would be indicator five. “Oh where?” I show her my eye. She continues to take my vitals. “Ok, the nurse practitioner will be right in.” So after several more minutes of thumb twiddling and fighting off the temptation to play around with the equipment in the room, in comes the nurse, peanut butter sandwich in hand…na, not really. She was nice, but articulated the same question, “So you have a wart we’re removing?” Ok, so I figure I have two options, run or run fast. I answer again “Um no, actually it a mole and there are two of them” “Oh, where?” “Here on my eye-” at which she quickly responds, “Oh, we don’t do eyes here,” Gee I guess someone didn’t notify the receptionist of that before she scheduled me. I’ve lost count of indicators here. “But I can take care of the one on your head.” She proudly continues.

I’m feeling the guinea pig type today, so I agree. She takes a few squirts with the freezing thing and is done in about oh, two seconds. “Now, if I didn’t get it all, I have the name of a great plastic surgeon in the city that can make sure it’s gone.” Ok maybe you can give me my 20 dollars back then? I fantasize asking. Because you didn’t use enough freezing stuff to make an ice cube for a flea.

Well, I learned a lesson that is worth the $20 I threw away. Don’t go to the clinic in town with anything worse than a mild hangnail. Good thing they are located so close to the tavern, I needed a stiff drink after that. Ok, well, I don’t drink. I gave it fleeting consideration, but had to leave the clinic straight for the dentist’s office. He was equally skilled.

The trip to RMNP

It seems the weather has decided to give in to time’s forward march; days are becoming slightly warmer and the sun comes out much more often, warming the farmstead with its rays. The chicks have graduated out to the garage. They were in a box in the master bath till they realized life exists outside the box. I could no longer keep them contained to their known world, so they are in a 12’ swimming pool in the garage. Freedom has expanded their feistiness; I managed to capture a nice picture of a couple of the roos sparring. The Chicks I hatched last summer from my sister Julie’s hens’ eggs have started laying, the tiny pullet eggs are so cute. I think I ended up with only 2 roosters from that batch, what great odds!

In a nearby town there is a renowned goat dairy, their cheese used around the world, a secret blend of seven different breeds’ milk. Through a relative of a friend I may be privileged to purchase a couple of their does for the farm here. I have wanted to find a couple of nice milking goats so fingers crossed, it may happen soon. If so, I will put a door in the chicken coop and wall off a portion for them, with a pen on the outside and plans to tie them out during the day to graze. I’m looking forward to the opportunity to make butter, cheese and soap.

Steve had Monday off, but the kids had to work, it was turning out to be a pretty nice day, so we took Em up to Rocky Mountain National Park with plans to do a bit of hiking. Turns out temps were in the low 20s with winds near 40 mph there, so we didn’t get much of a chance to hike. We jumped out here and there to snap some pictures and try not to get blown away in the gusts. Although it was too chilly to hike, it was still a fun time. At one point a gust came up just as I was taking a step, I was literally blown off my feet. The Christmas classic echoes through my head, “Good thing bumbles bounce.” My neck was sore for a few days from the snap as I landed, but otherwise I walked away unhurt.

I met Melissa & Rae for Breakfast today, returning Gato the dog to them. I still laugh at Rae’s sense of humor in her choice of names. My faith taught me you don’t call the cat if you want the dog; however I guess this is an exception to that rule. Our pastors Mickey & Scott happened to drop in for a cup of coffee while we were there, so we got opportunity to chat for a few moments before heading out the door and back to the day’s tasks.

Taxes are almost done; we’ll be getting a refund, hot dog. Last year we owed quite a bit, but this year we have the mortgage, so that softens the tax blow a bit. However, I’ll dance a jig the day we have the place paid off, I can’t see paying the bank a dollar to get .25 back from the government. A nice barn is on my short list of improvements as soon as that happens, but unfortunately that’s a ways down the road.


Em posing on a rock between gusts


The effects of the wind on the snow caps, a beautiful sight.


I'll never tire of the beauty, its just incredible.


The newest rooster chicks setting up pecking order.

The Elk

Well, its been a while since I've posted, but that's mainly because nothing is happening around here these days. I guess I could have posted.....cold and snowy, cold and snowy, cold and snowy. I keep reminding myself that spring is not too far off. In my mind, it seems every year the current winter is the longest winter ever. No different this year. Why does summer seem to fly by yet winter drags on?

We had some great weather Tuesday and Wednesday. I shouldn't complain, it actually got up to 68 on Wednesday, that was before we got totally slammed with 5" of snow and 25 degree temps just 6 hours later. Like I said, cold and snowy....

Wednesday was just too nice a day not to get out, so I took the girls and we headed up to Estes for a bit. The elk were out on the golf course, I got some great pics of them. They are so used to people, that we were able to get within about 15 feet.

I got another of those great unexpected gifts in the mail this week. Mom sent me a very cool book, "MaryJane's Ideabook Cookbook Lifebook for the Farmgirl in all of us. I highly recommend it. Along with some beautiful pictures its got lots of great ideas and how-to's for the homesteader. Its full of recipes, sewing tips, gardening ideas and many lost-art how-to's, like darning socks and making aprons.

The best part of all was the inscription inside the front cover."To my very own sweet little farm girl. They can take the girl out of the country, but they can't take the country out of the girl." Those are words I've heard my mom echo at every turn; when she saw my first extensive garden complete with 9 different fruit trees to my pantry full of 12 cases of peaches I had canned one summer, to the time she found out I had 28 chickens in my suburban back yard. And, she is right, all those years of city living were pure torture to the farm girl in me. I finally feel at home for the first time in a really long time. I awaken still in awe of the beauty that surrounds me and thanking God for the blessing of living in such a serene place and for the opportunity to take it all in.


Another incredible sunrise from the front porch.


Elk cow, pausing for a second to gaze up at us


Elk on the golf course. The ground was covered in.....well, you know. I bet the golfers hate that.

The Weekend

Friday I met Melissa & Rachael for lunch. We had a nice time. I then took Rachael to the thrift store for a quick shopping trip. She wanted to go with me to the airport to pick Uncle Steve up from his China trip, but I talked her into the thrift next door to the cafe instead. She was excited to find a dish set still in the original box and shrink wrap. It was a deal at .99 so I gave her some money and she paid the man and proudly brought it home.

Saturday I picked up some heirloom garden seeds from a guy off Craigslist. I'm excited to get my garden started.  I got 19 different varieties of seeds from watermelon to squash to green beans, carrots, leeks, tomatoes and a few things in between. I've got a lot of work ahead of me between now and harvest. One of the first items on the list is to get the garden area marked off and put a fence up around it to keep the deer and rabbits out.  I've got another connection from Craigslist for a pretty unlimited supply of composted manure to get a good base going. The ground has a dozen or more boulders sticking up a foot in the air, and I'm sure it's just the tip of the boulder so to speak. I will have to do raised beds if I plan to grow anything. It's still a little early at this point. I'd like to start a few things indoors, but I need a heat mat or similar to keep the seeds from rotting. I've thought about just using the heating pad, but I think its best to wait till the time is right. 

Steve has been slow to recover from jet lag, he slept a bit today. Hopefully tomorrow he will feel like himself again. We hung out at church this afternoon and watched the first half of the Super Bowl. Em wasn't feeling well today, so we came home at half time. Tomorrow its back to school and work for everyone.  

The Gift

Well, much to my surprise, over the weekend the chicks hatched. I had some trouble with the incubator and was unsure of their outcome. I think I just keep it too cold in the house for the incubator to keep a constant temp. During the day, the sun heats the house up nicely and then in the evening it gets downright cold. Anyhow, one day in particular I had trouble keeping the temp up even with the incubator wrapped with towels, so I turned it up several times over the course of the day and then by morning I awoke and it was 104.2. I was pretty certain I had done them all in, but much to my delight, 6 of them hatched. I do feel quite bad about the rest though. They were just 2 days from hatching when they got overheated. Some were duds, but most were developed. I feel like such a bad chicken mommy. Once it warms up a bit more, I plan to get both incubators running and hatch out a bunch.

We picked Josh up from his Tulsa trip yesterday and used some of Steve’s hotel points for a hotel stay just for fun. We had such an enjoyable time together. Steve has an élite status from staying so often that they furnished our room with complimentary candy bars, snacks and drinks. Also we enjoyed the manager’s hour and had a light dinner on the house, as well as a free appetizer at the restaurant. We sent the kids off to swim while we enjoyed our time over some delicious Bruschetta. A nice hot breakfast awaited us this morning, and then it was back to school and back to the real world. It was fun while it lasted though.

I got a surprise package in the mail today. You know that special person in your life, the cheerleader who always remembers birthdays and gets just as excited about your life as you are? That person is my Aunt Sis. She is technically Steve’s aunt, but I claim her as mine. The kids can always count on a birthday card from Aunt Sis. I can hardly remember my own birthday; how she remembers and gets cards in the mail on time is truly remarkable.

Well, today I got a box from Aunt Sis with a really wonderful gift inside. What is it about an unexpected gift that makes it all the more special? Of course I tore the paper off the box like I was 3 years old, tossing shreds of it around the car. Did you think I would wait till I got home to open it? I opened the box to reveal the most beautiful afghan, and an equally wonderful letter from Aunt Sis. She said it was a prayer blanket that she had started long ago. And that she prays while she crochets, first that it would actually resemble a blanket when she is finished. I must say she did an absolutely wonderful job; resembled a very fine blanket to me. She also prays that the person she gives it to will be happy and healthy. She said she started it simply because she loved the colors but knew from reading my blog that she was to finish it for me. What an honor to receive such a blanket, one fashioned from love just as much as from the yarn that went through her fingers. She wanted me to be reminded of the coming of spring and of her love for me and my family. She didn’t know when she started it that spring is my favorite season, and pastels, my favorite colors. Also, I doubt she remembered that the orchid and purple were our wedding colors, orchid being my favorite color. It was as if God himself chose the yarn. When I opened it the colors spoke to me, the purples of God’s love and commitment to me like a marriage, the pastel greens of his promise to lead me to green pastures and the pastel yellows of happiness and warmth. I cherish the gift of that blanket, and I cherish the gift of Aunt Sis in my life.

I love it when God sprinkles people into our lives. There is the cake, and the icing on the cake, and then there are the sprinkles. The sprinkles are those that God flings into our lives for the shear purpose of making it more meaningful, more significant, and more beautiful. I thank God for those He has chosen to sprinkle into my life.


A chick hatching


What a bunch of fine looking chicks.


A close up of the beautiful afghan Aunt Sis crocheted. The picture doesn't do the rich, vibrant colors justice.

A pattern here

Well, I've noticed a pattern here. Every time Rachael comes to visit I can't blog for days, sometimes weeks. I was on a roll and then, wham no posts for a while. Rae is visiting Granny and Papa for two weeks, ha, not sure why I find that funny, but I do. Of course she Skypes me every day and was utterly thrilled to find out that I have a camera now and can see her. I had to watch her dance, jump, hop, skip, stick her tongue out and make faces. In fact at her request and much to her amusement I joined her. "Okay hop now aunt neice, okay freeze, okay hop, now freeze. Let me see you stick your tongue out" It went on for 30 minutes at least, it felt like longer. "Do you see me twirling? Now what am I doing?" Oh the joys of technology. Of course I had to go to the garage and bring Hopper the one-legged-chicken in for a camera appearance. She was beside herself when Hopper talked to her. Oh to be four again.

The only other thing she wanted from me besides doing crazy stunts before the camera was to explain to her over and over and over how to take care of chickens. She is pretty sure she will be taking some chicks home to live in her bedroom. "Should I just make a glass house or a metal house for them? I think I can just teach them to talk and also to go potty on the toilet, wouldn’t that be a great idea aunt neice?" She didn't like my recommendation for little chicken diapers; I thought they would fit nicely in the "little chicken suitcases" I convinced her were necessary and talked her into making, maybe it will give Granny and Papa a break for 20 minutes. Her face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning when I told her that the eggs in the "inking bator" as she calls it, wiggle when they are turned over. She thought maybe we could just crack one and look at it. She returns home Saturday, the same day the chicks are supposed to start hatching, oh boy. I see a visit from her in my near future. If my posts slack off, you'll know she was here.

On another note, Josh leaves for Tulsa tomorrow. He is going to Winter Retreat at the church we used to attend there. He was told by several of the youth that it was announced at Wednesday youth service that he was coming back and the room erupted in applause and cheers. What a great feeling that must have been he had so many friends there and was greatly missed when we moved. I'm happy we could send him back; it means so much to him.

It’s been cold lately, dipping down below zero last night. It’s so beautiful here, but I am ready for spring. I admit, I'm a wimp, enough of the cold and snow already. Think I'll start my tomato seed soon, maybe tomorrow. I plan to grow them in pots on the upper balcony this year. The deer and rabbits find them too tempting. Some day I'll have a nice fenced in garden, but for now I have to keep them out of reach, kinda like the eggs in the inking bator.