twenty-one

I want to thank you for taking time out of your day to listen to me. crow is up to 21 "official" followers, aka readers. Most of you come from facebook and get an update of a new post and do not need to be all official-like, and others have come through blogs or searches and perhaps from the Circle of Moms.


Some of you I have known. Some of you I hope to get to know. I the meantime, I  do know you are here and I am grateful for the company. I have somebody to talk to, and somebody who is really, really, good at listening, and so accepting of my whims and wonderment.

I spend my days mostly in solitude. Sometimes in a meditative state of blissful nothingness and sometimes with a head full of ideas and thoughts as I work my little farm. I wish there was some sort of brain -                  cinematographer/biographer/photographer taking note of all that flows in and out of my noggin. For easy reference, perhaps a book. I have come up with some amazing art, stories, designs, theories, reflections and plans all in my head. From how to alleviate the poverty here in WV, to painting a portrait of Earl, to enhancing the sense of permaculture here on my little farm and everything in between..

I did not grow up here in WV. People here have stacks and stacks of family and friends living in this same area. A police officer once told me that people around here are very clan-ish. That is not the Klan with a K. I think he meant that people stay in their own circles and are very loyal to those within their circles.

I am a strange woman who "doesn't have an accent". I am seen walking my donkey and heard talking to my ducks. Pass by, and you will probably see me dirty and digging or just sitting on a log and looking toward the west. I do not belong to a church, which makes me somewhat suspect, as well it should. I am a stranger in an area where the people have the same surnames as those who first struck out in this area. With the exception of my children, I have no bloodlines here.

So I talk to you here, to my friends who listen so well, Speaking to you most nights, of my little triumphs, my hopes and dreams, and sometimes of my past. At the same time I talk to you, I talk to myself. The stuff that flows through my brain and spirit I believe does get recorded. Some here at crow, and the rest tucked away in my subconscious.

I write with abandon, (what you see is what you get}, depending on the day. I have nothing to lose. Which reminds me of Janis;

Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose,
Nothing don't mean nothing honey if it ain't free, now now.
And feeling good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues,
You know feeling good was good enough for me,
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee.

You see, you 21 followers (plus) are my very own Bobby McGee-s.

La da la la la, la da la la la la la
Hey hey hey Bobby McGee yeah

I hope to make connections here in WV. I hope to have a bunch of Bobbies to share my tomatoes with and to drink wine and eat cheese and play with the goats. But if I don't, it will be of my own making.

For all of what I wrote tonight... is truly all in my mind.

~crow

egg

Somebody new here laid an egg. I found an extra today. I am so excited. The great mystery hunt begins! She laid it down by the duck swimming pool. She is part of the President Day chicken group. Those chicks were my first hatch ever, inside my birthday gift, the incubator. Now, in the coming months, one by one I will find a new count of eggs.

It may sound silly or boring to those who may not have an interest in farming or have farmed so long the joy of your hens laying their first eggs is way past. I get that. But to those of us who care for our animals and see the next generation into this world, it is quite amazing to witness. I am a farmer lady! 

This was my facebook status today (for those of you who aren't connected to me there.)

Did some heavy house cleaning today. ::cheers, balloons, parade::   I would rather be in the garden or doing outside stuff. I like the stereotypical "men's work" better than the stereotypical "woman's work." It feels to me like I did something of value when I do outside stuff. hmm... value and worth issues.

So washing dishes for the umptee-umphth time really gives me no sense of "Hey look what I accomplished!" it is just a silent chore. Nobody thanks me, but I sure do hear it of we are out of forks. But with the chicken raising, or the gardening, somehow I feel like I did something of value. Why is that?

I got an extra egg today  and I cleaned the front porch, kitchen, bathroom, dishes, washed three loads of laundry, swept and mopped the floors.

Awesome day. Forkin' A

~crow

shoes

Why do I always like the Halloween backgrounds?
hmm...


Today, while out running errands, we passed a few garage sales on the way out to town. My neck wrenched leaning to peer out the window towards a garage sale on the corner. My driver, surprised by my interest (a very suspicious reaction) looked and said,  "It is all shoes". Then we flew by two more sales, probably more shoes. I wonder how common it is that somebody has a "shoes only" garage sale or that there would be three in a row! On the way home, I got my driver to stop at that same sale on the corner. It was now probably two to three hours later. We had just been to tractor supply looking at the rabbit food bowls and I said, "I can buy ceramic bowls at garage sales for twenty-five cents." My driver agreed. So, on this premise we stopped at the shoe sale. Imagine if we had stopped earlier. gah! This is what I found for two bucks, total:

two large vintage modern/retro barkcloth curtain panels - value $25.00 to $50.00

vintage Glassbake yellow bowl with pour spout - value $10.00

ceramic blue bird of happiness - priceless

I wonder where should I put my bluebird shoe?




While I gave that some thought, I did more weeding and planted cucumbers, my last three Summer squash and yet more tomatoes plants. Then, it rained. I was hoping it would. I love to plant, then watch nature take over so nicely. A perfect rain too. It wasn't a wash out. It was a nice quick downpour followed by a light sprinkling.

We all sat on the porch and watched the rain come in. I love when I can hear the rain before I can see it. It gives me goosebumps. There is something quite magical in that pause. It is like taking that deep breath in and making a wish right before you blow the candles on your birthday cake. Where anything seems possible in a fleeting moment. Like you are in the middle of right now and a second later, at the same time. It is the moment between moments.

Tomorrow, batter goes in the bowl, curtains in the fabric stash, and that little happy bluebird...
Stay tuned for where it goes.

~crow

eleven...

again.

Another black pullet/hen came out of hiding from the dog attack. Now there is eleven. And the dog is gone. Guilt. Guilt? I thought he killed them, but now it seems he only injured two of the eleven. But that dog was a ticking time bomb. So I shouldn't feel guilty. Right?

eleven

The Lesson:

1. Do not forget about hope.
2. Don't count your chickens after a dog attack.
3. Bella (the beagle) and I are Super Heros.

While I had my camera out, I thought I might take a picture of my Goat herding chair.

So far, goat herding is very much like watching TV.


Meanwhile, these little darlings have no home. They can't be in the barn with the President Day chickens, they can't be in the coop with the ducks and the second batches. I have turned their old home into a rooster jail. So now they live under the jail. Benefits: free food, teasing the killer above, living life adventurously. They seem to be doing well. They are super cute.

brown leghorn couple

rooster jail

Lesson:

1. Don't be afraid.
2. Adapt to change.
3. Travel in pairs.

More views from the beet farm:

Blue Topaz two surviving kits in the nest.

My eleven ever growing ducklings

freebird-s

Got Milk?

sling blade and the tale of the missing tail

sling blade on a hot day

Lesson:

1. You made your bed, now lay in it.
2. Maybe I like my mucky bed.
3. Be a good bed maker.

That's all for today.
Wild and Wonderful WV crow.

soul garden

It as been so hot here in the mountains. The Summer Solstice has yet to arrive and we have been near 90 degrees. I spend my days making sure the animals are comfortable and have fresh cold water to cool them, shade and frozen water bottles in the hutches.

Yesterday late afternoon into evening, I went out planting again, pushing past my swollen knees, the still sweltering heat, and my mind begging to quit. But I didn't quit. I planted three more rows of tomatoes and weeded the bush beans.

I find that when I do push past the discomfort, It is the predominately the mental I have to overcome. The "I can't do this" tapes, instead turn it into, "I am doing it" album. I get into a new zone in my being. With the body and mind now working together, something quite beautiful happens.

Digging into the earth, loosening the soil with my hands, I ready the tomato's new home. Touching the earth brings me to a grounded place. Literally and figuratively. As the sweat is dripping from my face, slightly stinging my eyes, I work in the heat that I now consider my personal sauna. The earth is still cool, deep under the top soil. Dark organic clay dirt, the kind you might make use for a facial. I run it through my hands playing with the dirt like a child, then placing a precious plant, which I grew from seed. Each plant, is filled with the love and nurturing from the sun, water, soils and my hand. They each have a network of tiny white baby roots reaching for more. I carefully place each in a hole and crumble the cool moist earth around it with both hands, giving myself a dirt manicure.

My higher self watches and I witness an extraordinary earthly creature, along with the others, potato bugs, earth worms, and the robins happily pecking on the far side of the garden.

I have talked about this before, but I stands repeating, mostly for myself.

Who I am is holy.
Where I am is holy.
What I do is holy.

An epiphany in my little farm spa and resort. On my natural mountain high.

hole-y plastic with tomatoes

~crow

six-six

Sophia, my just turned 11 year old, (and youngest) had her birthday today. She has been counting this day down for months, at least. I always worry about such hype becoming anticlimactic. But for Sophie, it was everything she hoped for. Probably everything, with the exception that she still had to take a shower and get ready for bed. :-)

Sophia had school today, which might normally stink on one's birthday. However, at her school, the lunch ladies butter your nose on your birthday. How cute is that? Sophie's friends were very excited and happy for her. She even got a present from a boy. A necklace that looks like an Native American arrow head on black leather-like(?) cording. Sophia has never received a gift from a boy, so it was pretty special. I tried not to make a big deal about it, but me asking, "So how did that all go down?" was met with some vagueness, but I did get that he had it in his pocket and gave it to her. ::sigh::

Gosh, I love small town America.

Yes and I AM small town America. This is who met Sophia at the bus-stop:


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earl with green hair paint and purple flowers

Earl, the miniature donkey told me he wanted to dress up for Sophia's Birthday. I felt obliged to carry out his request. He also said he needed extra sweet feed, which I was happy to give him for being so thoughtful and keeping a sense of humor about himself. He is just like me. I know I say it all the time, but... I adore him!

Oh my, what a day! I found a President Day chicken that I thought was in chicken heaven, due to that dog attack. I found, him, Obama, in the trash building, hiding, dehydrated, hungry and injured, but alive. So, thankfully, or perhaps not (it is how you look at it) we are down only to one lost chicken, a hen, her name was Ring Tone Two. Her sister Ring Tone One (shh.. I am not sure who is who!) is still with us. Sophia's chicken.

Miracles do happen. Having a baby is a huge miracle. But there are others, some more quiet and unexpected. All you have to do is color them green and stick flowers on them, or look in the trash. You will find them, they are there waiting for us. Nothing to do really, but acknowledge that they happen everyday and every second we take a breath.


From Wild and wonderful WV,
~crow

coexistence

One of my favorite quotes:

"It does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are twenty gods or no god. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg."

- Thomas Jefferson 

I believe in coexistence, and in religious tolerance. I believe If you can't do anything good for a person, at the very least don't do them harm. I believe we, as a people, need to look at the similarities instead of the differences. I believe that is enough. It is enough for peace. Wars in the name of religion start from within yourself. As Mothers we need to be teaching our children acceptance and peace. It is in our hands.

Here is another simple quote from one of my favorite Presidents:

"When I do good, I feel good.  When I do bad, I feel bad.  That's my religion."

- Abraham Lincoln

~crow