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animal kingdom / DAILY FARM LIFE / family / life on thomas run
I've been covering for Emma while she's been away at camp this week. I have to admit, I've really enjoyed taking over her usual morning tasks. She often rises before anyone else in the house and heads outside to work her way around to all the animals. All is quiet outside until the animals hear the tell-tale slam of the mudroom door. Then the whinnying and maaing begins. The barn kittens swirl around feet as you scuffle your way to the shed for their food. The pony stomps in her stall and chews impatiently at the fence.
The 4-H lambs have learned my routine and wait at the gate to be let out for their grain, which they get outside the pen. They need to grow, my other sweet girls, need to watch their waistlines a bit.
Birdy has become my righthand man and before I can even give her direction she's picking up green feed pans and trying to hook them on fences. Walking to the stone barn for a slice of hay. Trying to pry open the can of chicken feed. Climbing the coop steps to throw out the eggs for me. Oh yes.
Tonight we'll pick Emma up from camp. She'll hug her baby sister and carry her around on her hip, showing her off to all her friends. She'll most likely be flippant about missing us. But tell me how much she missed her pony and how are her lambs doing? When we get home tonight, I'm pretty sure I can bank on the fact that she'll make the rounds just before bed.
Everyone will be happy she's home.
I've been covering for Emma while she's been away at camp this week. I have to admit, I've really enjoyed taking over her usual morning tasks. She often rises before anyone else in the house and heads outside to work her way around to all the animals. All is quiet outside until the animals hear the tell-tale slam of the mudroom door. Then the whinnying and maaing begins. The barn kittens swirl around feet as you scuffle your way to the shed for their food. The pony stomps in her stall and chews impatiently at the fence.
The 4-H lambs have learned my routine and wait at the gate to be let out for their grain, which they get outside the pen. They need to grow, my other sweet girls, need to watch their waistlines a bit.
Birdy has become my righthand man and before I can even give her direction she's picking up green feed pans and trying to hook them on fences. Walking to the stone barn for a slice of hay. Trying to pry open the can of chicken feed. Climbing the coop steps to throw out the eggs for me. Oh yes.
Tonight we'll pick Emma up from camp. She'll hug her baby sister and carry her around on her hip, showing her off to all her friends. She'll most likely be flippant about missing us. But tell me how much she missed her pony and how are her lambs doing? When we get home tonight, I'm pretty sure I can bank on the fact that she'll make the rounds just before bed.
Everyone will be happy she's home.
animal kingdom / from Mary
A post from Mary:
Little known fact about me: I used to have an elaborate dead animal collection. Mostly birds. It was part of my dowry, and the frozen brown paper bag traveled from the homestead to the rental home when we married. I had collected it over the years, often finding perfectly intact specimens on the bridge at the end of our farm lane, most likely traveling the freeway of the stream and getting hit by cars as they flew over the bridge. I would identify them and tag them with the date and where and how I came to have them in my possession. Then in the freezer, in the brown sack they'd go. A budding naturalist. Maybe a slightly unusual collectible. But, when we moved to our home, I decided to toss them. Some of them were pushing a decade of age. It was time.
I give you that background information about me so you are not shocked when you read ahead…
It is a nice day. I go for a jog. I find a perfectly wonderful dead bat on the road. I must bring it home. I am only about one mile from home. My hands are sweaty, but I can carry it. The kids just must see this fellow.
Bats tend to evoke scary thoughts and images. But have you ever really seen one? They are incredibly intricate, beautifully made little flying teddy bears. I don't think I know a softer fur. Tiny little faces with little snouts and pricked ears. Silky, but super tough wings.
So we got out the field guide. I knew what kind it was, but I wanted my gang to go through the steps and figure it out. We examined, measured, mapped. A male Red Bat. Lasiurus borealis.
And when we were done, guess where he ended up? Bagged, and in the freezer. Maybe the beginnings of the next generation of dead animal collections.
A post from Mary:
Little known fact about me: I used to have an elaborate dead animal collection. Mostly birds. It was part of my dowry, and the frozen brown paper bag traveled from the homestead to the rental home when we married. I had collected it over the years, often finding perfectly intact specimens on the bridge at the end of our farm lane, most likely traveling the freeway of the stream and getting hit by cars as they flew over the bridge. I would identify them and tag them with the date and where and how I came to have them in my possession. Then in the freezer, in the brown sack they'd go. A budding naturalist. Maybe a slightly unusual collectible. But, when we moved to our home, I decided to toss them. Some of them were pushing a decade of age. It was time.
I give you that background information about me so you are not shocked when you read ahead…
It is a nice day. I go for a jog. I find a perfectly wonderful dead bat on the road. I must bring it home. I am only about one mile from home. My hands are sweaty, but I can carry it. The kids just must see this fellow.
Bats tend to evoke scary thoughts and images. But have you ever really seen one? They are incredibly intricate, beautifully made little flying teddy bears. I don't think I know a softer fur. Tiny little faces with little snouts and pricked ears. Silky, but super tough wings.
So we got out the field guide. I knew what kind it was, but I wanted my gang to go through the steps and figure it out. We examined, measured, mapped. A male Red Bat. Lasiurus borealis.
And when we were done, guess where he ended up? Bagged, and in the freezer. Maybe the beginnings of the next generation of dead animal collections.
IN MY KITCHEN / life on thomas run / MOTHERHOOD
I just dropped Emma off for a week of 4-H camp. The house feels remarkably empty without her. And my chore load has suddenly tripled because of all the daily work she does caring for the animals. She's a good little farm girl. And now I'll be picking up the slack while she's away.
The ease with which she kisses my cheek, waves goodbye and melts into a crowd of campers is a bit overwhelming for her mama as she drives away. She's a brave one. I am proud.
The other girls are standing beside me as I type this, anxious for a trip to the craft store where we'll be stocking up on art supplies for a week of prep for county fair entries. This is so unlike me to be organized so soon.
But the real reason I am here is to tell you that if you are swimming in cucumbers, as I am, then you must must must make this recipe for refrigerator dills.
The recipe could not be simpler. And in 24 hours the pickles come out crisp and fresh–with the perfect balance of garlic and dill.
So good!
Alright, my friends. The weather has broken here in the mid-atlantic, and I am looking forward to a week of refreshing weather and finally some productive energy.
Happy Monday!
I just dropped Emma off for a week of 4-H camp. The house feels remarkably empty without her. And my chore load has suddenly tripled because of all the daily work she does caring for the animals. She's a good little farm girl. And now I'll be picking up the slack while she's away.
The ease with which she kisses my cheek, waves goodbye and melts into a crowd of campers is a bit overwhelming for her mama as she drives away. She's a brave one. I am proud.
The other girls are standing beside me as I type this, anxious for a trip to the craft store where we'll be stocking up on art supplies for a week of prep for county fair entries. This is so unlike me to be organized so soon.
But the real reason I am here is to tell you that if you are swimming in cucumbers, as I am, then you must must must make this recipe for refrigerator dills.
The recipe could not be simpler. And in 24 hours the pickles come out crisp and fresh–with the perfect balance of garlic and dill.
So good!
Alright, my friends. The weather has broken here in the mid-atlantic, and I am looking forward to a week of refreshing weather and finally some productive energy.
Happy Monday!
