Vote for this one!

Here he is ladies and gents... my husband the politician. After a long hot walk in the Watermelon Parade and lots of hand shaking and smiling and "How ya'll doin?"----- I feel like we are officially in the race! Walking in a parade as a political candidate is definietly a rite of passage that everyone should do at least once.

The door-to-door visits have also begun and have been quite successful. Yesterday, he met a couple that he called "true democrats." (which in our area is not all that common... ever heard of a "southern democrat"? ) And in talking to them, the husband looked at the wife and said, "Can we vote for a Republican?" Her response was... "We can vote for this one!"

Three cheers for 2 more votes!

HARD TIMES

What have you been hearing all over the news and out of everyone’s mouth? Complaints about high gas prices, high food prices, bad economy, and the sad state of affairs we are in here in America. While these things are “true” I must say, it is getting old. Everyone wants someone to blame for it all, some explanation for it all, and some definitive answer on when it will end. Well, here it is folks: we are all to blame, we are doing it to ourselves, and it won’t ever change. Hard times are here to stay!

Let me explain.

Our food has always been cheap. Our clothes have always been cheap. Our gas has always been cheap. And by cheap, I mean compared to the rest of the world. The “rest of the world” is not a group of people that American’s often think about. The “rest of the world” has never had cheap food, gas, or clothes. They have, for the most part, been 3^rd world countries with little hope of rising out of that. Newsflash: They don’t live like we do. They don’t drive 2-3 cars per family. They don’t live in 4 bedroom mansions. They don’t eat out 5 times a week. They don’t shop at Whole Foods and Gap. They walk to work and school, or take public transportation. They have gardens. They make their own clothes or have just a few outfits. They have very modest homes with kids sharing bedrooms. They don’t eat fast food. They don’t need much.

Oh, but here…. We need A LOT. We need choices! What we want has become what we need. And it has finally caught up with the middle class in America. We don’t think it’s fair. We whine and complain and moan that we can’t get what we want anymore. But is that really true? I still see people pulling their boats behind their giant SUV’s. Now, that gas bill is something that will max out a credit card. I still see people loading up their grocery cart with junk food and imported produce. I still see people wearing new clothes. I still see kids talking on cell phones. I still see everyone living in a beautiful home with a manicured yard and even a pool! How bad are we really hurting?

I was talking to an 80 year old man last night. We were on this exact subject. He said, “I hear people saying these are hard times. These aren’t hard times. I was a kid in the depression. Those were hard times for America. These kids don’t know nothin’ about hard times.” And I believe him 100%. Could you imagine everyone in your neighborhood not having a job? Literally not having any money in your pocket to buy food for your kids? Having one pair of pants and they are full of holes? This is pure desperation folks. And how many of us have experienced something like that and looked around and everyone else was in the same boat? Very few people under the age of 75 have.

All of us complain, but very, very few of us make changes. We simply can’t help it. We have gotten used to a very high standard of living and we can’t come down from it. We want what we want and we want it now. We are actually getting a taste of what the “rest of the world” has been living with for years.

You might be a farm family....

If your daughter names her stuffed penguin, "Penguin Heifer"

If your son says his favorite animal is "my white goat 'Scappy'" (but it's really "Scrappy")

If your daughter can tell you very specific personality traits of each of the 6 chickens roaming the pasture

If your husband runs for the County Commission seat that was most recently occupied by a man named "Junior"

If you get to work and realize that your "clean" shoes have an unidentified brown caked substance on the bottom of them (OK, 'unidentified' really means I'm not sure which animal it came from)

If your daughter says, "We don't ever wanna live anywhere but the farm, right Mamma?" in a major twang accent

If your 2 year old knows the difference between a tractor and a combine AND can identify the John Deere logo

If when your home phone rings at 7:30 am, it is almost always your fertilizer dealer wanting to know what field is next

If any of these things characterize you (like they do me) YOU MIGHT BE A FARM FAMILY!

Just when you think it is safe to go into the chicken coup….

Well, some time has passed since the hawk and coyote incidents (see the Dull Moments posts). And I think I was pretty much over the shock of knowing their are predators in our midst. Until today.

When we arrived home at 3pm, I told my daughter to go get the eggs. I did have a sense that something might be awry when we didn’t see any animals in the pasture when we drove up. She ran back to the house with the same look on her face as she did the day of the hawk incident so I knew something was up. “Mama! There’s a snake!” After much back and forth between us on the exact whereabouts of the reptile, I went out to take a look for myself. There he was, in all his glory, curled up in one of MY chicken boxes with one of MY eggs down his throat. His mouth was open. He looked dead. I couldn’t tell how many eggs he had, since the rest of his body was coiled and very hard to see. I called the husband and told him that we had a snake situation. After much back and forth between us on the question of what type of snake it was, I decided it was a white oak and not poisonous. The husband said I had only one choice and that was to chop its head off with a hoe. Excuse me? I explained to him the coil position and that the degree of difficulty to actually get to his head--- in addition to me being an amateur in snake decapitation—was going to be a little out of my league. So we decided he’d kill it when he got home since the snake was probably too fat to get back out the way he came in. A few more minutes passed and I decided to go back out and see what had transpired. Sure enough that slippery little sucker was trying to escape through the wire mesh side of the coup!

Some of you may know what comes over one in moments like these. Some may not. I assure you; something does come over you to allow you to do what I did. This is not in my nature, nor have I ever had any practice or training in this art of dealing with predators.

I got the hoe. I returned to the scene. I watched his ways. I planned out several scenarios in my head. I decided on the best plan of attack. Slowly I opened the coup door…. Wow, he was long! About 4 feet… I raised the hoe up over his head…. closed my eyes….. and put an end to the egg thief. I had imagined the worse case scenario of the aftermath and it wasn’t even close. There was very little blood but there was lots of egg yolk. I screamed and did the freak out dance and screamed some more. It was just the heebie jeebies of the whole thing, and I was grossed out and proud at the same time. I left the scene, called the husband, called my Mom, and now I’m bragging to you. I saved my animals from the further threat of the beast! And I am not kidding… as soon as I left the pasture, all 7 chickens came running out from hiding and thanked me profusely.

Coming full circle...

I think most of you know where I've come from... yes, the city. I hadn't even a notion of what it took to run a farm. I had not a clue what it took to stock my grocery store. But from a very young age, I have had a very strong affinity for the country life. When I was a little girl, my favorite story book was a National Geographic kids book called "Cowboys." My Mom can attest to this! She read it thousands of times. My favorite animal has always been a pig. I have no idea where it came from, it was just what I was drawn to. Around the same time of my life, I would steal my sister's John Denver 45 record and take it to my room, put it on the player and take my place on top of my bed.... jumping my heart out to "Thank God I'm a Country Boy" -- Sis is nodding her head right now. As a teenager, I adored country music, wore Wrangler jeans, learned to line dance, and pretended to enjoy rodeos. So is it really that much of a surprise that I have ended up where I am? I don't think so. In fact, I so appreciate the Lord allowing me to live out my childhood dreams out here in the country with a farmer for a husband and chickens in the yard. In honor of yester-year, I downloaded that John Denver song a few weeks ago. I played it for my daughter, and yup, you guessed it-- "PLAY IT AGAIN MAMA! AND TURN IT UP!" Gladly my dear, gladly. Here are few lyrics for your enjoyment.

Well life on the farm is kinda laid back
ain't much an ol country boy that he can't hack
its early to rise and early in the sack
Thank God I'm a country boy
well the simple kinda life never did me no harm
raise me a family and workin' on the farm
days are all filled with an easy kind of charm
Thank God I'm a country boy

City folk drivin in a black limousine
A lot of sad people thinkin "Now that's a mighty keen!"
son let me tell you now exactly what I mean...
thank God I'm a country boy!

More Dull Moments

please read the "Dull Moments" entry first...

The morning immediately following the coyote incident started out "normal." I had a morning out planned, so the kids were at a play date and I was home, busy, doing my chores in peace and quiet. About 1030, Stephen and I searched our pasture for eggs. We have to do this daily, since we have free range chickens (don't tell anyone!) and not every gal goes back to the coup to do her business. We brought them in... Just 2 short hours later, my daughter went on an egg hunt. I was putting on my shoes when she had already made it down to the coup. I was yelling her name, because I saw she had left the pasture gate ajar, and the dog just doesn't always behave when she is in the pasture. Daughter didn't respond... then I see her running up to the house screaming, "Mommy! There's an owl in the coup!" I fly down to the gate, tell her to stay there--- not an owl... but the biggest HAWK I had ever seen was in the chicken coup, perched on the wood post where they sleep. There was one of the Rhode Island Red hens squawking up a storm in there, trying to get out, while the hawk just looked on... I let the hen out, and saw a frightening sight. Feathers flying everywhere and another poor little hen, who we admit was the crazy one of the bunch, was dead. I screamed and ran... I was very scared, because there was not another chicken in sight. No feathers, no nothing. Just that other red hen, who ran to the woods when I let her out. I got Stephen, and after some coaxing, got the hawk out of the coup. It wasn't easy. Then the burial. That wasn't easy. Then the thought that we had no chickens. That wasn't easy.... But about 5 pm, sure enough, the rest of the pack showed up at the water cooler! Really! So we still have eggs, and we still have 7 chickens...
Life in the country seems dull and boring to most people. They wonder what I do without high speed internet and satellite cable. They honestly believe that I must have nothing to do during the day. For one, I am a mother, so I'm never bored. For two, people just don't understand that there is always something happening on a farm. Be it a tractor getting stuck somewhere, phone lines being dug up and cut by a tractor, or happenings with animals... dull moments just are few and far between. So for those of you who have been asking for new posts- I hope my dull moments in the country made your city day!

Dull Moments

this is taken from my journal entry on March 3, 2008

Today started at 12:30am. Gannett had just climbed into our bed and was getting himself and his Pooh Bear situated. As I started to try to drift off back to sleep... I heard what I first thought was a dog howl, followed by several other dogs barking. My first thought of what was going on was that the neighborhood dog howl phenomenon was happening--- oh yeah, I don't live it a neighborhood anymore. Stephen LEAPS out of bed and flies to our french doors... Mallory tears through the house barking. I said, "STEPHEN!" He immediately responds with, "Honey, its OK." How did he know that when I said his name in that terrified voice, that is what I needed him to say? He ran to our front door and said one word that sent my heart racing--- "Coyotes."
We have 3 precious baby goats that we are raising to be Sweetums' (the jersey calf) buddies in the years to come in the pasture. Esther and I bottle feed them 2x a day and she carries them around our yard all day. They follow us everywhere. My heart was pounding because coyotes are the #1 predator of baby goats in our area.
I stood at the french doors of our room watching Stephen run out in his boxers with a lantern to see what exactly was going on. I tried to comfort Mallory, but her Wyoming instincts knew what was out there. The howling has stopped. In the lantern light, I saw Sweetums walking up slowly to the gate ... then I saw each of our 3 babies all coming to see what Stephen was doing at such an odd hour. He pretty much knew at this point the coyotes had been some ways off from our yard. He put the babies in their kennel and locked the door for the rest of the night... I wouldn't have gone back to sleep otherwise. We got back in bed, Gannett snuggled down close to me... my heart rate began to come down, and I fell back asleep knowing all was well on the farm..... for then at least. (see the next post)