Tag Archives: farming

Excitement…

…of various sorts has been ours lately.  I’ll have to come back to the posts on the road trip, but here’s what’s going on more recently.

Lucy has finally given in and decided that she is, in fact, old enough to poop on the potty.  We are jubilant.  And it’s consistent, it’s been only one diaper since we got back from Fargo.  We even tried sleeping without diapers for a couple of nights (at her request), but that went less well.  Apparently if she sleeps in a diaper, she waits until she gets up to pee, and if she doesn’t, well, she doesn’t.  But maybe soon.

The Trip, Part 1: Hospitality

I’m pretty sure this will take several days to explain, in part since my writing time is now divided by a number of thank-you notes which must be written with all haste.

Which seems like as good a place as any to start.  We were very, very blessed by the generosity of friends and strangers on our trip to Fargo, ND, this past week.  We were gone from Tuesday morning to the following Tuesday night, and only spent one of those nights away in a hotel.  So pending the thank-you notes, here are the people to whom we owe our very awesome, very long trip.

Home at Last

Well, it’s been 3,200 miles, but we’re finally home again.  And we have lots of stories, but it’s bedtime, so here’s just a little something to spark you interest.

We had the privilege of staying at a Catholic Worker farm the other night, and when we got up in the morning, I told Lucy to look out the window at the chickens.  She said,

“Look at that bird singing (=crowing)!  That’s the one we’re going to milk!”

You’ll be happy to know we straightened a few details out for over the course of the morning.

More to come.

Chicken, anyone?

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mommies out there.  I hope you have a peaceful, love-filled day.  Here’s a Lucy quote to brighten (or not) your day.

Lucy: “Tell me about the chickens.”  (By which she means, the slightly gory story of how a chicken goes from the farm to our table.

So I do.  And I ask, “Does that make you want to eat a chicken?”

Lucy: “Yes!  I want to eat a chicken.”

Me (prepping her for the *eventual* move to a farm): “Would you like it if we raised chickens and killed them and ate them?”

Goats?!?

There are goats living down the street from us.  Not on the end by the freeway, fortunately for them, but on the other end by the convenience store.  There are two of them, and they wear collars.  I’m not sure who the belong to, but I saw them a few days ago on one side of the street grazing in an empty lot, and this morning on the way to school I had to wait for them to cross the road.  It was a little surreal.  I was wanting to move to a farm, and it seems that the farm has come to me!  (We also have a chicken next door, whose purpose is termite removal.)  More details on goat sightings as they become available.

Food for Thought, and Thought for Food

I’ve been thinking a lot about food lately.  I like to spend time in the kitchen, making good food from scratch (or close to it).  Unfortunately, that often means something else in the never-ending list of house and school chores is being neglected.  As much as I know I would miss all my kitchen comforts, some days I envy women whose work for the day is almost exclusively involved in preparing food for their families.