THE GOOD FOOT PROJECT.
We had some of our very first visitors to the cabin a few weeks back - JC and Anastasia of the Good Foot Project!JC and I were able to connect through a mutual relative (and the amazing powers of Facebook). He and Anastasia had left behind their life in Los Angeles, bought an RV and were headed across the country for a year of WWOOFing (volunteering on farms) and learning about sustainability. So, when they asked if they could make a stop in Bugtussle, we of course said yes! And although we didn't make the best of hosts, what with our primitive way of life these days, we were happy to have them - showing them around the farm, loving on their sweet Mattie dog, and staying up waaaay past our bedtime with conversations and beers on the porch.
Follow their blog or Facebook page to keep up with the adventures to come - I have a feeling life has some pretty amazing things in store for these lovely folks.- Hannah.
ROOSTER CULL.
I came around the corner of our cabin to find the youngest Smith child, sweet Olivia, aged three, chasing Favorite Chick, our hellion rooster. Seeing a potentially dangerous situation developing, I called to Olivia and tried to move in quick, but was too late. As Olivia turned around, Favorite Chick pounced on her, swiping at her legs with his talons and splitting the skin before I could grab him. Though not as bad as we'd feared, it had been what we'd feared—Favorite Chick had attacked a child.A month ago we had to put our beloved rooster Ellen down. Ellen had been sick and was in misery. We did what we could, but he wasn't getting better and we hated the idea of him suffering any longer, so I killed him. It was hard, we still miss him, but we felt it had to be done.Ellen's passing, however, meant we were also out a rooster. Hannah and I enjoy having a rooster as we prefer the taste of fertilized eggs (and the potential to hatch more chicks). But roosters also add a little protection for the hens, which is welcomed in our little woody area where predation is a potentiality from all sides. When Ellen was gone, the oldest Smith child, Ira, gave us one of his roosters, who he called Favorite Chick. Ellen was calm, assertive, but never aggressive towards us, and did his job well. Favorite Chick was Ellen's cocky opposite—high-strung, mean, ornery, and had no problem attacking us from behind. Or our guests. Or, apparently, children—children being where we drew the line.We had considered culling Favorite Chick for weeks. We almost did after he attacked me, almost after he attacked Cher, and many times after he attacked Hannah. But we didn't because we wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. And we eventually regretted it. Watching Olivia cry, we regretted not taking care of him sooner. Because as bad as it was, it could have been much worse. It could have been the face. It could have been the eyes. But that is why I wanted to share this story, because Favorite Chick—who I admit had a truly unfortunate name for a story like this—was the first animal I'd ever killed not because he was sick, or even for food (though he did become chicken soup), but because he was dangerous. I'm not looking to justify what I did—I was preventing future attacks on children which, to me, needs no justification—but I'd like to hear what others have and/or would have done in the same situation. Our dear readers, farmers or not, should feel free to shed some perspective or share a story.- Jesse.
ALARM CLOCKS.
Especially this time of year, our days begin at daybreak. And ever since I started farming four years ago, I've loved the diversity of alarm clocks daybreak brings. As interns, when we lived in the barn in the hollow, a Wood Thrush would break the silence of night with its unique dueling vocal chords. Perhaps a Wren would join in, the ducks, the roosters and chickens not far behind. Here at the cabin, we have an Indigo Bunting and a few Cardinals who chatter the day into existence, and a Wendell who often barks a farewell to the evening's festivities.Sometimes, our alarm clocks are more tangible––sunrise, for example, if sunrise could be considered tangible. Or, as Hannah so eloquently summed up hot summer nights the other morning, "As soon as it starts to feel cool in the room, you know it's time to get up."I've found myself looking forward to the the changing of the seasons and the ever-shifting array of wake-up calls. And I've found myself greatly looking forward to the mornings, because I never have any idea how the day's going to start.- Jesse.
THIS & THAT.
Some random photos from the past week.
Trellising the beans with some native cane.
Opal's little chick - named Acorn.
Grilled summer squash.
Our homesite is surrounded by daylilies and wild rose.
Getting the cabin ready for the Fourth.