Or, maybe not. Lest you have too idyllic a vision in your head about farm life, I thought I’d give you a small dose of our reality. Wipe out all those Thomas Kinkade pictures from your head, all those red gambrel-roofed barns with black and white spotted cows gently grazing on fresh green grass, with the farmer and his wife on the front porch in matching Cracker Barrel rocking chairs.
Insert instead our last couple of days.
It started Monday morning when I noticed we had a sick chicken. I sequestered her into her own cage so she would hopefully not infect the rest of the flock. I fretted over her all day, researched, tried to feed her, and generally wondered what I’d done wrong. I realized by the afternoon, I was going to have to make some changes to the coop and bleach the heck out of it.
Monday afternoon, I took apart some old lumber to make a raised flower bed in the front because our dogs would never stay out of a level bed. I flung huge beads of sweat all over our front lawn as I worked. The sun beat down since we have no shade to speak of, and it was a beautiful, clear, 95 degree day with around 50% humidity. I grabbed the weed-eater to begin preparing the ground, but couldn’t get it started for anything.
So I then headed out to the garden to put compost around each of our baby vegetable plants. Our land was farmed conventionally just 7 short years ago and our soil has a lot of recuperating to do. Our garden was stagnating, so I put compost around half of our plants before I ran out. Well, that half nearly doubled in size in just a week’s time, while the other half still sat there piddling along.
Monday night, Sassy woke with a start, very upset. Turns out, she had pinworms, suggested by intense nighttime itching of her bottomly region, evidenced by a quick flashlight in the dark. I sat up until 2:00 a.m. doing online research on pinworms to see if I’d have to drive her to the doctor (an hour one way).
Tuesday morning, I woke to a dead chicken. Jeff burned it in our fire barrel. I resisted the urge to crack a joke each time I went outside: “Hey, why does it smell like KFC out here?” (It did, too.)
Apparently, Jeff found the potential joke as unsavory as I did, since he’s usually good for stupid jokes, even if they’re a little off-color. I guess we can only go so far.
After we burned the chicken and I spent an hour cleaning their coop, the pinworms sent me on an impromptu trek to purchase pinworm medication 30 minutes away, in our truck with nearly 20 loads of tainted laundry packed in the back. I stopped at the Pharmacy, then headed over to the Laundromat. Of course, I lugged both children with me throughout the tasks. While the laundry was tumbling, we went over to Big Lots since we’d lost Magpie’s pacifier somewhere between the truck and the truck. Your guess is as good as mine. It was present when we ventured into the pharmacy; gone when we ventured out. Big Lots had nothing to speak of in the pacifier department, so we bought a few snacks and headed back to load our wet laundry into the truck.
This long, long trip landed us back home at 7:00 p.m. I hung as much laundry as I could fit on the lines outside, then weeded some of the garden before it got dark. When we came in, we had no bedclothes to speak of – they were all on the line -- so we drug out blankets and laid them on our beds with uncovered pillows. I still had not found time to bleach the bathrooms and this bothered me. I also hadn’t eaten dinner, so we made grilled swiss on salty rye, put in the movie Elf, and I fell asleep at 11:00 nursing my Magpie.
Wednesday morning (today), I knew I HAD to bleach out the chicken coop, but in my research I’d come across an idea to make a droppings pit for the chickens. I loved the idea, and could see how it would help me keep the coop cleaner. So, first thing this morning, I went out and dug a pit under their roosts. Then, I drug all of their stuff out of the run. Their nesting boxes, their roosts, their water container, their ladder. I dumped them all out, then bleached them all out. I loaded all the soil I dug up from under their roost into a wheelbarrow to use for my raised flower garden. Sadly, the torn apart lumber is still sitting outside my front door, warping in the sun.
Jeff had to leave for work the
minute I finished this task, so I didn’t get a chance to hang more of the wet laundry. I put Magpie on my back in a backpack carrier and started hanging laundry. The sun was just all full of itself again today, practically bursting like a barrel-chested fitness freak, and I knew poor Maggie was getting too much sun, even with her hat. I brought her in to see her arms starting to redden, so I had to let the rest of the laundry wait. I put a load into the dryer since that was the best I could do.
I nursed her down for a nap, started a batch of kefir, and ate a very late lunch. I bleached down the master bathroom, nursed her again, cursed myself for losing her pacifier, worked on the bathroom more, nursed, cursed, bleached. She wouldn’t sleep. She is officially a paci addict.
My dad came around 3:00 p.m. and took Sassy to buy a new bike she’s had her eye on at Tractor Supply. When he returned, he sat with my Magpie while I took down and folded dry laundry, hung all the wet laundry I could fit, lugged in all the dry laundry, fed the dogs, and put the chicken coop back together. At 9:00 p.m. we all went out for a nice treat of ice cold water. Because we’re living with only a dorm fridge and a chest freezer and we have no ice.
And we have clean water that is rather annoying to reach. I have a nice expensive filter that dad bought me for Christmas, but I had to put it in before I had a chance to put in a spout – our water normally tastes gross so I was in a big hurry – and without a spout, you have to get in under the sink, hold your glass (or pitcher) next to the water filter ready for the spurting water that will follow, and literally turn the cold water valve that runs to the filter to “on.” You wait until your container fills, then turn the valve off.
My deer-shy dad drove, if you want to call it that, to get our H2O treat. I believe it was probably more like “cruised,” or maybe “inched.” We returned home at 11:20. Yes, that’s right. 11:20. We went 15 miles away.
I loaded the dryer, put Maggie down to sleep. Dad had bought her a new paci so she finally got her fix and dropped out. I had a snack of potato chips, followed by Macadamia Nuts and a Dove chocolate bar, then
finally decided I’d take the Pin-X medicine myself. I hadn’t been able to decide since I’m still nursing exclusively.
At midnight, my dad had to leave and Sassy was ready for bed. This was an unusually late night for her. But I still had to dress the bed with new bedclothes. I didn’t want to sleep on its nakedness another night!
I forced my poor tired child to wait while I returned her mattress to its proper condition, then finally let her lie down. She was asleep after one “hand-hug.” I dreamt of Thomas Kinkade farms and how I need to get me one of those.
Personally, I think famers are far too busy to sit on their porches at all. That’s why those Cracker Barrel rockers stay so pretty and nice.
Nobody gets to use them!!!Now, for a couple addendums.
First, Jeff and I have been talking about big plans again. We’ve decided we don’t want a mortgage at all, so if and when we build, it will have to be mortgage-free.
Instead, we want to travel more and have this nice wiggle room in our budget that had become so unfamiliar. Next year, we are thinking of taking one of those all-inclusive vacations to Costa Rica since Maggie will fly free all next year.
And finally, I’ll conclude with the
Top 5 Reasons to Get Pinworms in the Family#5: It’s a good way to quickly figure out what your priorities are when everything else gets crossed off your agenda.
#4: Recent research shows that having pinworms at an early age can reduce your risk of colon cancer. (really, true fact)
#3: Your bathrooms are clean and sparkly from copious amounts of bleach.
#2: Nothing teaches humility like having to announce to your group of friends that your child might have infected their children with itchy butt worms.
#1: The laundry is finally, finally
all caught up!