The Farm Report

  • We are clearly hibernating

    We are clearly hibernating

    I can’t get the kids to leave the house. All they want to do is stay in their pajamas and hang out at home. I suppose this is what happens now that they’re all in school for at least part of the week—they value their time at home. Although their pajamas are getting a bit stinky (we try to change them at least every 24 hours), I’m thrilled they want to be here. I can’t imagine having children who want to be anywhere but home.

    Yesterday they built this massive fort in the basement. (Which I really need to document.) Today I set up a whole table of pouring and transferring activities, splooshing water from one container to another. With all that water out, suddenly Neko had the critter container where Leaper the toad spent a good deal of time this summer. With spring on the horizon, she decided she need to clean to cage.

    Soon she and Ellery were scrubbing and cleaning. (As promised, they washed and dried all the dishes they used to accomplish this, which was, um, a lot.) Then Neko turned the whole thing into a jellyfish aquarium, drawing on Ziploc bags with Sharpies and filling them full of water. It was eerily lifelike, bobbing around.

    By afternoon, Mary Beth and Nancy came to visit, bearing cake pops, which lasted about 4.6 minutes after they walked in the door. (Delicious.)

    And that’s not even half of what went down. Someday I’m going to take one day and record every weird thing we do from dawn to dusk. And you will all die from either boredom or exhaustion. But I feel compelled to do it just so my children know why I yawned my way through their childhood.

    011711_02
    011711_03

  • 365 Things

    I want to declutter, but it’s so overwhelming. I pull everything out of a closet, and just as I begin to rearrange, someone needs me. Fast forward three months, and I’m still tripping over the innards of my closet.

    Big projects are clearly not going to happen in the near future.

    So I have new plan. I will get rid of 365 things this year. One for each day. But I don’t have to do it every day. Say I clean out my closet, and get rid of 15 things—I can be done for two weeks! If I fall behind, I can pull a bag of stuff together.

    I’m contemplating the caveat that if I buy something for myself, I need to get rid of one thing as well, which would be in addition to the 365 things. This may be too complicated for my tired brain, so I’m still mulling it over.

    I’m going to keep track of my things here. I know. Yawning can commence…NOW.

    365 Things
    1. A big blue ceramic bowl that matches nothing we own.
    2. A shall-remain-nameless children’s book that causes nothing but trouble every time we read it
    3–5. Three books I have read which were mediocre at best.
    6–14. Nine kitchen utensils I hate that make our containers overcrowded and unusable.
    15. One bag of chewy pencil tips I ordered when Neko wouldn’t stop chewing on everything (but promptly lost).

  • Dinner with Anne

    Dinner with Anne

    Tonight I met Anne for dinner in the Big City. I had pre-trip errands to run, and it was just days away from her birthday—the stars were aligned.

    I adore my old friends (meaning we go back far—not chronologically, of course). I love that we fall right back into old and new conversations like no time has passed. They already have the backstory and the context. They understand my heavy sighs and eye rolls.

    Now adding to the 2011 list: seeing more of old friends. It’s silly we live so close, yet the visits are so infrequent. You, sitting there? I’m talking about YOU.

  • And so it begins

    And so it begins

    Shep is now able to follow the directions in the Lego manuals. Moments after he assembled this creation, he tore it apart to begin on the airplane.

  • Chickens 101: Molting

    Chickens 101: Molting

    I rounded the corner to the coop the other day and was greeted by a terrifying sight. James had virtually no feathers on her head.

    Did you know that chickens molt? Apparently, some worse than others. Some can lose a bunch of feathers, and simply look a bit scraggly. But others can molt so badly that they’re one step away from looking ready for the rotisserie. So far, James’ molting is only really apparent on her head, but, sheesh, she looks a little scary.

    I suspected this was coming. I had noticed recently a whole lot of feathers in the coop, all black and white ones. I fear that streak of 50° days made James think it was spring. Time to lose feathers! Little did she know, we’d still have single digit weather ahead.

    I brought her inside today to give her a thorough once-over. I wanted to make sure we didn’t have a dire disease on our hands. She ate and drank, but not ravenously. (She only did that later when I served up some mac & cheese leftovers after lunch.) Although her comb and waddle looked a bit pale, I suspect she is just molting. That pile of feathers Ellery has in her hands in the third photo are what she left behind after being in our house for just 20 minutes. Yikes.

    Of course, this is all happening just in time for me to leave town, dumping it all into Tom’s hands.

    Bonus photo of Princess Ariel, chicken feather hand model.

    011511_02
    011511_03
    011511_04

  • Annual ski date

    Annual ski date

    In January the school district has a teacher in-service day. It’s a day that few other schools in the area have off.

    Last year I decided it would be the perfect day to take Neko skiing, as I figured the slopes would be pretty empty—and I was right! Nancy and Mary Beth came along, and we had an amazing day.

    This year, Nancy had to work, so Neko and I went solo. Someone had a small anxiety attack shortly before we hit the slopes, and almost refused to go. Thank goodness, Bill the Amazing Ski Instructor was there to greet us, so I slipped Neko into his class for the first hour.

    After the class, she was ready for the green hill. After we skiied the green hill a few times, she decided she was ready for the blue hill. We switched between three different blue runs for the rest of the day, and now my seven-year-old is a better skiier than I am.

    Parenthood—it is nothing if not humbling.

    We capped off the day with a few trips down the tubing hill. As we sailed down the hill, I thought to myself how wonderful this was. I miss those little baby snuggles, but what a joy to have this whole person to hang with for the day.

    Sadly, I committed the cardinal photography sin, and forgot to charge my camera battery. It died on the first photo, so all I have are these photos from my phone. And someone refused to let me take her photo close up, so you’ll have to just look at that little speck of her in the second photo and trust that we were there.

    Special thanks to Barb and Kendall who took care of Shep and Ellery today, and to Tom who helped with transportation. It was a bit of scheduling gymnastics to make it all come together, but so very worth it.

    011411_01

  • There’s an ostrich in our bathroom

    There’s an ostrich in our bathroom

    No, that’s not a euphemism. And it’s not like an elephant in the room.

    There really is an ostrich in our bathroom. It’s been there since we built the house. About a month after we moved in I noticed it. I looked up one day, and there she was. I think she looks a bit gouchy, but I suppose if you spent your whole day just inches from a toilet, you might be grouchy, too.

  • Skeletal

    Skeletal

    Once a month I volunteer at school in the science class. It’s a mixed K/1/2 class, so an extra set of hands is always a bonus.

    Today we talked about bones. At the end of the experiment, kids were given some time to pore over the school’s extensive bone collection. One boy found this tiny skull, and we spent some good time speculating on what it might be.

    Any guesses?

  • Reindeer

    Reindeer

    Neko has been pretending she’s a reindeer today. Although we managed to convince her to wash off her black reindeer nose, she insisted on going to sleep in her antlers.

    You have to appreciate her commitment to her craft.

  • Late night friend

    Late night friend

    Once the kids are in bed and I’ve tackled the most fiery parts of my TeuxDeux list, it’s late.

    I should go to bed.

    Most nights I do.

    But other nights I stay up too late. I check in on friends. Popular culture. Write long overdue emails. Watch dumb television.

    Tonight I watched Dan in Real Life (unexpectedly pleasing despite commercials) and contemplated what breeds of chickens to add to the flock this spring (my current picks are one of each: Australorp, Delaware, and Easter Egger). Moving myself one step closer to becoming that crazy chicken lady.

    Tom is trying to catch up on his sleep, and wisely went to bed early. As a couch-warming replacement, Daisy hung with me all evening.

    Good dog.