My Father's World

It is nice to go outside at sunset and just enjoy the colors in the stillness of the evening.  The day is done.  The chores are done.  It's time to slow down and just enjoy.  God is certainly an artist.  He created and designed it all and he just wants to share it with us.  We just have to take time out and watch.  Sadly, we often are moving too fast to enjoy Our Father's World.

"This is My Father's World" is a hymn written by Maltbie Babcock in 1901.  Mr. Babcock was a Presbyterian minister in New York, and he died when he was only 42 years old.  As I think about sunsets and enjoying God's Creation, it reminds me of Maltbie Babcock as he definitely took the time to observe His Father's World.  I read IN THIS ARTICLE the following:

"Hymnologist Kenneth Osbeck noted Babcock’s practice of “taking morning walks to the top of a hill north of town where he had a full view of Lake Ontario and the surrounding country.” It was said that he had a frequent expression before leaving for these walks, “I’m going out to see my Father’s world.”  

Here are the lyrics to this beautiful, old hymn:

This is my Father's world, 
 and to my listening ears 
 all nature sings, and round me rings 
 the music of the spheres.  
This is my Father's world:  
 I rest me in the thought 
 of rocks and trees, of skies and seas; 
 his hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father's world, 
 the birds their carols raise, 
 the morning light, the lily white, 
 declare their maker's praise.  
This is my Father's world:  
 he shines in all that's fair; 
 in the rustling grass I hear him pass; 
 he speaks to me everywhere.

This is my Father's world.  
 O let me ne'er forget 
 that though the wrong seems oft so strong, 
 God is the ruler yet.  
This is my Father's world:  
 why should my heart be sad?  
 The Lord is King; let the heavens ring!  
 God reigns; let the earth be glad!

Let everything that has breath praise the LORD.  Praise Ye the LORD.  Psalm 150:6

Benjamin Can See Clearly Now...

He can see all obstacles in his way...  Benjamin is driving a 2000 Toyota Prerunner to college.  First, it was my Dad's farm truck.  Then it became Russ' truck in high school and took him to college for four years.  After he got a job, Russ bought a car and the Toyota became Benjamin's truck.  He drove it all through high school and now he'll take it to college. 

The truck has about 230,000 miles on it, so before he went off to college, we changed the oil, checked the tires, filled all the fluids.  I made a short list of things we needed to repair.  He has a bulb that is burned out - not the headlight, but the light on the side where the turn signal is.  I'll need to change it.  He also needs new windshield wiper blades.  The thing most pressing is his headlights!

They are so dull.  The glass cover is faded, rough and yellowed and oxidized.  The light has a hard time shining through, making it dangerous out on the road.  You need to see where you are going!

Hide it under a bush, oh no!  I'm gonna let it shine!

They make a product to restore headlights, and I selected the one that had the highest rating on the Internet.  The kit cost me about $23.

First, I cleaned the headlights with some Windex and completely dried.  Next, I used some painter's tape to tape off the paint so that I don't damage it.  I'll use a 100 grit sandpaper pad, keeping it wet constantly while I sand the headlight down.  When I'm finished with that, I remove the 1000 grit sanding disk from my hand sander and replace it with a 3000 grit sanding pad.  I'll use up and down motions, overlapping and continuing to keep the sanding disk wet.  When done, I dry the headlights off with a towel.  I repeat on the other side.

Then I pour a nickel sized amount of PlastX to a buffing pad that I put on my battery-powered drill, buffing and buffing.  I add more PlastX as needed and buff until I can start seeing a change.  Then I buff out the other headlight.

Once that is complete, I wipe off any excess with a towel and get ready for the final step.

The final step is to apply a headlight coating with a foam applicator by using vertical strokes until completely coated. 

Then you let that dry for 24 hours.  I thought it did a good job.  These headlights are almost 20 years old.  If you scroll up to the first photo and compare with the last, you can see the difference.  I feel better about Benjamin getting on the road with "new" sharp headlights.  He will be able to see much better and it will be safer for him.  As he pulled out of the driveway, he turned on his headlights and they were lighting his path once again.  Let your light shine!

Another Snake We Won't Kill

We were introduced to snakes back in Genesis in the Garden of Eden.  Vile.  Evil.  Devious.  Nasty.  Scheming.  Lying.  Treacherous.  We hate snakes.  We have snakes around here.  Not talking snakes, mind you, but hardly a week goes by that we don't see snakes.  Mostly garter snakes.  We don't ever kill garter snakes.  They are so prevalent around here.  They'll come inside the house sometimes.  We pick them up and toss them back out in the landscaping beds, so they can go about their business of eating frogs and lizards.

Next we have chicken snakes.  Lots of 'em.  In the past, we'd kill them.  We didn't want them eating our eggs.  We'd kill them with a shovel.  We'd kill them with a board or a pipe or any blunt object.  We'd kill them by placing ceramic and wooden eggs in the nesting boxes.  When the fake eggs disappeared, we secretly rejoiced, knowing that the serpent was going to die of a really, really bad case of constipation.  But then... things changed.

Our rat problem out at the barn got out of control.  More rats than we could count.  I poisoned them.  I shot them off the rafters with a .22 rifle loaded with rat shot.  I used classic rat traps.  I even had great success with a 5 gallon bucket half filled with water to drown the rats.  But the best thing we ever did was to stop killing the chicken snakes.  Allowing the chicken snakes to live paid dividends in terms of drastically reducing our rat population.  Chicken snakes get very large and can be scary, but they are docile and generally don't bother you if you don't bother them.

So today, Russ walked out in the garage and yelled, "Hey, there's a big chicken snake right outside the door!"  Except it wasn't a chicken snake.  It was a speckled king snake!  These guys are our friends.  They eat birds, rodents, frogs, lizards, and other SNAKES.  They kill by constricting their prey.  For that reason, we always set these guys free.  Here he is right here:

King Snake in the Garage

King snakes grow to around 48 inches long.  He was shaking his tail at me like a rattle snake, but he never did strike at me.  The speckled king snake is aptly named because every scale has a yellow-white spot.  It is really quite a beautiful snake.  They are gentle.  In fact, some people keep them as pets.  Not us, we'll get him out of our garage and back out into the landscaping so he can do his thing.

Speckled King Snake

I picked him up with a garden tool.  I think he was happy to be back outside.  Garages aren't their natural habitat.  The speckled king snake actually likes wet areas.  Well, he's in the right place.

I hope he stays around.  We want him to take care of "bad" snakes in our area - snakes like the Cottonmouth and the Copperhead.  Maybe he'll find his queen snake and make a family.

A Walk Back to the Barn In Late August

It's late August and it's very hot and humid.  The mosquitoes are thicker than I've ever seen 'em.  Every animal and human on our little farm is looking forward to fall.  It is about a 150 foot walk back to the barn.  As I walk out in the afternoon, I see a very familiar sight - the cows and chickens are laid up under the shade of the pecan and oak trees.  They'll go out and eat grass in the early morning and then they'll stay in the tree's shade out in the pasture until the sun's course in the sky is overhead and eliminates any shade.  When the shade disappears, the cows head back to the always shady area on the southeastern side of the property.  They'll sit there and pant until the late afternoon.  Then they'll head back out to eat grass when the setting sun casts long shadows.

At this time in the season, the grass is diverting energy toward producing seed heads.  As a result, the grass is less nutritious.  This coupled with the fact that it is just too darn hot for them to eat grass all day has resulted in the cows all have lost some weight.  They'll be okay, though. 

I began to think about fall/winter feeding.  We have around 90 square bales in the barn.  I called the farmer that supplies us with round bales to reserve round bales this fall/winter/spring.  We keep records that show that last year, we used 24 round bales.  I reserved at least that much for this year.  In December, we'll put out a round bale and keep one on hand for them at all times until the latter part of April.

Back in the barnyard, I threw some henscratch to the hens and they begin scratching and eating.  Our flock is getting old.  A couple of years ago, we had over 100 in total when we captured them in the barn and counted them one by one.  We've lost some to old age since then.  I'd estimate that we have about 90 hens now.  In the past, I'd add about a dozen new pullets each year to replace those that died during the year.   We haven't added any new ones in a couple of years.  The hens (mostly) lay their eggs in the red hen house.  Benjamin would always collect the eggs and package them, but since he's  gone off to college, Tricia and I gather them each day, wash dirty ones, and put into cartons.

In the photo above, you can see a new addition to the barnyard - we moved a trough inside the corral.  The water trough is positioned where it catches rainwater off the barn roof.  We watched during a short rainstorm this weekend in which 5 inches of water was quickly collected from the run-off.  This is a good development as the calves are kept in the corral all night and it wasn't efficient to fill water buckets every night. 

How Much Wood Can a Wood Chipper Chip?

About a month ago, we showed in THIS POST how we were embarking on a new gardening method.  We wanted to give a brief update of where we are in the process.  As of our last posting, my wife flagged down some workers chipping up limbs on a power line right of way and had two loads delivered to our house.  The price was right.  It was free!  Well, we bartered and gave the men some fresh eggs in exchange.

Since then, we've received many loads of wood chips - I've lost count!  We were running out of space to dump more loads in the yard closest to the garden, so the gentlemen began dumping the wood chips off to the side.  Unfortunately, they dumped two loads on the neighbor's property!  I'll have to apologize, get busy, and quickly move those piles.  That's on the agenda for this weekend.

We actually had them back up and empty a load in the pasture close to the garden fence, and that was fine, except for the fact that it blocked the path we use to walk to the barn each day to milk the cows.  We also pull a wagon through here with cattle and chicken feed each week.  Tricia promptly went to work with a pitch fork clearing a path.  She's not afraid of a little work.

Our old garden forks bit the dust.  It was a cheap tool that I think I bought for $5 at K-Mart before they closed.  I purchased a better pitch fork at Tractor Supply Company and and after blazing a trail through the wood chips, Tricia gives it the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval.

These boots were made for walkin'....

She also went to work with a shovel.  When the guys backed in the pasture to dump the load, they got stuck in the mud and rutted it up.  They had to call another truck to come pull them out.  Once out, Tricia shoveled dirt back in the ruts and leveled the ground. 

Our project now is to make room for more.  That means moving the existing piles into the very back of the garden.  I'll pile it high and use this area as a staging ground for the decomposing wood chips.  It is slow going.  Each afternoon after work, I've been spending 45 minutes to an hours loading wagons with wood chips and moving it to the garden.  I'm covering up grass and a row of buckwheat.  Over the next week or so this pile shown in the photo below will grow.  "Free" wood chips aren't exactly free.  There is a lot of hard work that goes along with it.  One must be patient.

Some of these piles have been sitting for about a month.  It is 90 something degrees outside.  When I dig into the pile of wood chips with my pitch forks, the pile is very hot in the middle and is smoking.  Amazing!  The bacteria is in the process of decomposing the chips and converting them into soil.

I'm planning to plant the fall garden shortly and then once the seedlings are up, I'll begin mulching around them with the wood chips.  It'll be a first for us, but as we understand it, it makes the process of weeding almost obsolete.  If not obsolete, a lot easier.  I'm actually pretty excited to see if that comes to fruition.  We'll keep you posted.

Blooms in the Garden in August

Spring evokes, at least in me, thoughts of brilliant green new leaves and multi-colored blooms around the garden and yard.  The late days of summer evoke thoughts of dull, tired, sun-baked landscape.  But that is not always so.  Let's take a look at some things that are blooming in the garden.  Below is a row of buckwheat that I planted.  Although I love buckwheat pancakes, we're not going to harvest this row.  Buckwheat is known for sending down deep roots that pull up minerals.  Now that they've bloomed, I'll cover them up as a 'green manure' and will hopefully see the benefits in the spring when I plant something over them.

Blooming Buckwheat

Next in the garden are some Arikara Sunflowers.  These are a native American heirloom.  I had originally planted them back in 2010.  I saved some seeds from the first harvest 9 years ago and planted about 20 of them this year.  I was amazed to find that after almost a decade of storage, I got 100% germination!  These sunflowers grow 10 feet tall and follow the sun.  I'll save more seeds this year.

Decade-old seeds and 100% germination!

The pollinators love these flowers.  It is hard to see, but in the photo below there is a bee in the center right of the flower in the foreground.  I'll likely harvest the heads before they dry and birds get them.  I don't want birds to get into a habit of coming into our garden to eat!

Last year I planted a row of zinnias in the holes of the cinderblock edging that borders the garden.  They grew tall and spindly as the soil was not too good in the cinderblocks.  I let the flowers dry on the heads last year and collected a BUNCH of seeds that I stored in an old vitamin container.  This year I planted a full row of zinnias between the blackeyed peas and the buckwheat.  The soil is rich and the zinnias are giving us a feast for our eyes.  Check out all the multi-colored blooms!:

Zinnias

Here is a muted pink one...

And a bright pink one lined with miniature yellow blooms around the center...

This row is really attracting the butterflies.  The zoom-in didn't work well, but in the photo below, you can pick out a big butterfly in the center left, about to land on a pink zinnia.

I've never been a real big fan of flowers in the garden, but I'm starting to enjoy them.  I always prefer growing things I can eat!  Without further ado, here is the beautiful flower of something you CAN eat - OKRA!

I planted them late this year due to the weather, but they are 8 feet tall now and I've been harvesting every day.  We will be harvesting lots and lots of okra for the next four months or until the freeze knocks them out. 

It's Just Me and You, Kid

Well, on Thursday of last week, we moved Benjamin out of the house and into the dorms at college.  It was a hot, muggy day.  Benjamin's dorm room (of course) was on the third floor and there are no elevators.  It was quite heavy moving the dorm fridge and all his other personal belongings up three flights of stairs.  We learned when we got to his room that the air conditioners in the room don't quite keep up.  We added a couple of fans to the list of things to get for him along with some curtains.  Tricia quickly made his bed and he unpacked and got his room organized.

His apartment-style dorm has six students in it.  Benjamin shares a room with a roommate and there is another student in a single room and the three of them share a bathroom.  All six of them share a den or common area.  There is an identical two bedrooms, one bathroom, and three roommates on the other side of the den.  Benjamin will be majoring in Electrical Engineering and so he and Tricia went shopping for a laptop computer that has the requirements for his major.  He starts his classes on Monday, August 19th.

Benjamin spent the weekend going to "Cowboy Camp," an orientation for McNeese State University in Lake Charles where he learned all the in's and out's of college life.  The university is about 35 minutes away from home.  He's far enough away for him to have his independence, but close enough to home if he needs anything.

As Tricia and I got settled in at home to a VERY quiet house that seemed very large now that there's only two of us, she looked at me and said, "It's just you and me, kid."  This is gonna take some getting used to!

Water Everywhere!

The water trough in the bull pen has been a source of trouble for us lately.  First, the baby goats have been sticking their heads through the 4X4 hogwire to drink water and have been getting their heads stuck in the fence due to their horns.  Tricia was having to go out several times a day to rescue the goats.  They aren't very bright.  They wouldn't learn a lesson.  Using a chicken wire frame that was part of an old brooder and a rusty piece of corrugated tin, I built a temporary barrier that has kept the kids out of the bulls' water trough and thus, out of trouble.

Just when I thought I had it all figured out, I come home to what you see above.  Nope, it didn't rain.  The bull named Astro (because he was born on the night that the Astros won game 6 in the World Series),used his head to knock the float valve out of the trough.  The float valve is fastened to the trough with some wing-nut bolts.  After the bull drinks, the water automatically fills until the float valve closes and stops the water flow.  Bulls are notorious for rubbing their heads on everything and apparently he rubbed on the float valve until it was loosened.  Then he hit it with his head until it was laying on the ground with the water running wide open.  All day long!

We weren't home today as we were moving Benjamin into his college dormitory.  When we came home, we found this.  The water must have run all day as the pasture is flooded all the way to the fence toward the south and west.  I hate to see our water bill this month!  I quickly put the valve assembly back on the trough to stop the water.

Astro stood there in the mud seemingly proud of his handiwork.  I was not too impressed.

Bulls are just a nuisance to have on our little pasture.  When they get this age, they begin using their heads to destroy anything in the pasture.  Unfortunately, this also means us!  They will come up to us, lowering their heads and will push us or hit us.  Today while putting the float valve on the trough, Astro came up behind me and rammed me with his head.  I had to hit him in the nose to make him stop.  Then I yelled for Tricia to distract him by feeding him some sweet feed so that I could re-affix the valve to the trough.  We not only have Astro, but we have Aussie and Clarabull.  Astro's mischief today made me all the more determined to go ahead and get an appointment scheduled for him at the slaughterhouse.

We were previously waiting until the quality of the grass diminishes before sending him, but I believe we'll go ahead and take him.  He's plenty fattened up.  Then we'll move Aussie and Clarabull into the 'bull pen' and wean them both.

Remembering Sunday Dinners

Image Credit

I was reminiscing about Sunday Dinners the other day.  Every family has different traditions.  On Sundays our family would gather sometimes at my maternal grandparent's home for Sunday dinner.  I called them Bumby & Poppy.  Poppy came back from World War II and opened a grocery store.  They lived across from the elementary school.  If you stepped out in the front yard while school was in session, you could hear the creaking of the swings that kids were swinging on on the playground.  You could hear their laughter, too.  If you stepped in the side yard, there was a birdhouse with Confederate Jasmine growing on it.  It was difficult to enjoy the fragrance of the Confederate Jasmine, though, because the birdhouse was home to blue jays.  Those birds would dive bomb your head and attack you while shrieking loudly.  The backyard was a shady spot that had a greenhouse.  Bumby always had plants growing in every pot around.  She had quite the green thumb and the Garden Club often had a sign in her yard, deeming it "Beauty Spot of the Week."  Poppy had a compost pile back there along the fence in the backyard with damp, 'earthy' smelling leaves and lots of earthworms.

However, on Sunday afternoon, you didn't want to be outside.  You wanted to be inside.  Right after church, our family would gather.  Sometimes we would change out of our Sunday best and put on "play clothes," but often we'd stay dressed up.  When you would open the door, a great aroma filled your nostrils and you just knew you were in for a treat.  The scent of delicious food drew you to the kitchen.  Before you went to the kitchen, you had to go to the bathroom and wash up.  Poppy taught us to fill the sink with water and wash our hands.  Never leave the water running!

Bumby would be in the kitchen, directing kitchen maneuvers like a field general.  If you lifted the lid off of a pot, you would be confronted with the business end of a wooden spoon and told to "Git out of here and go to the den.  Dinner will be ready shortly."  Bumby would have an apron on and would point out where items were to be placed on the table.  The dining room table had a white tablecloth on it and all the best china was out with silverware.  Nothing was buffet-style.  We would hold hands, bow our heads, and Poppy would say grace, thanking the Lord for the food we were about to enjoy.  Everything was served in serving bowls that was passed around the table.  You had to ask, "Please pass the mashed potatoes."  There were dishes of pickles and black olives to start with and a salad.  There was always a plate with white bread and butter.  There were cucumbers with sour cream and dill (I think), always sliced, ripe cantaloupe.  Lima beans were a favorite, as were beets and the main course would be pot roast with carrots and potatoes and rice and gravy.  We'd drink iced tea.

There were no cell phones back then and we would sit around the table and visit and laugh and joke.  We would ask each other questions and have good conversation. Poppy would kick off his shoes and he wore black dress socks that had yellow toes.  As a young boy, those socks would scare me for some reason!  The main plates were cleared and pie would be served.  Or maybe a banana pudding.  Bumby would 'rescue' brown bananas from the grocery store that wouldn't sell and transform them into a delicious dessert.  When we were full and finished visiting, we would ask, "May I be excused please?"  We were released and the grown-ups would do dishes and put away leftovers.  We'd head outside to play football or we would gather in the den to watch the Saints or the Cowboys.

In remembering Sunday Dinners, I'm reminded of what seemed to be simpler, less stressful, less busy and more innocent times.  Maybe it wasn't.  Maybe I was just a kid without responsibility.  The meal itself seemed very formal as far as the serving platters and linen, but the family togetherness was informal, relaxed, and the good times were seared in my memory.  After coming in from church where we feasted on the Word of God, we'd go to Sunday Dinners at Bumby's where we'd feast on great food and family fellowship.  Good times and good memories.

It's Rosie's Turn Now

One (perhaps) strange thing about owning family cows is that we keep track of their reproductive cycles.  Obviously, if you keep milk cows, the object is to keep them in milk.  The only way to do that is to ensure they keep giving birth to calves.  A cow's cycle is roughly every three weeks - from 18 to 24 days.  We keep our eyes open for activity.  What activity, you ask?  Well, when a cow goes in heat, the little bulls begin to follow behind them.  The other cows will actually jump up on the backs of the cow in heat.  It gets kind of crazy.

We watch when this occurs for each cow and mark down the date on a calendar.  Then we begin making plans to get our cows together with a registered Jersey bull.  Sometimes we re-breed with some of our own bull calves, but we try to introduce new genetics to our little herd.  We like to have them bred with a registered Jersey bull as a registered Jersey heifer will bring a higher asking price upon time to sell her.

We have a neighbor down the street that has a nice, big Jersey bull.  He charges a $100 stud fee.  I contacted the neighbor and arranged for us to bring Rosie to his house today.  She should cycle by Wednesday or Thursday of this week.  After evening chores, we loaded her into the trailer.

But it isn't just her we're bringing.  We're bringing Aussie, her bull calf with her.  His job will be to keep her nursed down so we don't have to milk her this week.  If we didn't send him with her, we'd have to drive down every day to milk Rosie out.  This is not the safest thing as we don't know the bull and he may not take to kindly with us having access to "his woman" during her time there.  So we got them both loaded into the trailer.  Rosie is good at getting into the trailer as she's had experience from livestock shows.  Aussie has not, but a bucket of sweet feed is a good motivator if you put it up in the trailer just out of reach.  Pretty soon, both were loaded up and we traveled north for about 4 miles.

We unloaded them into the neighbor's pasture after a short drive.  The animals went through a brief session of introductions and seemed to be getting along well.  The bull is big and grey.  He's in the center of the photo below.

In a few days, once the bull has done his job, our friend will call us and we'll drive back over and pick up Rosie and Aussie.  We'll bring her back home and mark the calendar for roughly 3 weeks and we'll watch her closely.  If she doesn't go back into heat, we'll assume she'd bred and will look forward for a baby calf in May 2020.

Running in The Ditch

And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.   Galatians 6:9 (KJV)

Late Thursday afternoon I drove in from work.  It always feels good to be home after a hard day, but on this particular day, it appeared that we had unexpected company.  I like visiting and like company, but I didn't recognize the vehicle in the driveway.  It was an older model, four wheel drive pickup truck, jacked up with big mud grips and it was parked partially blocking the driveway.  I drove around it and pulled into the garage.

I noticed at that point that neither Benjamin or Russ was home - just Tricia, and I got a little concerned.  I went through the back door and there was a young man standing there talking to my wife in the kitchen with a work short with a patch embroidered on it bearing his name.  I read it and looked at the guy's face.  A young face, but one with a beard and yet vaguely familiar.  He reached out his hand to shake hands and smiled and I recognized him.  He is the neighbor kid that lives adjacent to our property in the back.  We hadn't seen the young man in years.  He and Benjamin would get together and play when they were younger.

After shaking hands, the young man said, "Did you see the ditch?  That's why I stopped in.  I wanted to apologize." 

"What ditch?" I said.

"The one in your front yard."  He said.  He continued and told us that because it is rice harvest season, a big combine and a tractor and rice cart were coming down the road.  The combine had a big cutter bar/header that took up the entire road, forcing the neighbor kid's truck into the ditch.  "I didn't realize the ditch was wet and when I pulled out, I realized that I rutted up your yard."  "I am sorry."

I told him that it was not his fault and that the ditch is actually on the other side of the road from our property, next to our mailbox, and that finally, it was no big deal.  We visited for a while and caught up with what was going on in Matt's life.  I told him "thank you" for having the honesty and integrity for stopping by and telling us.  When he left, I told Tricia that Tommy and Dana had certainly raised him right.  Listening to all the division and arguing and vitriol that is in the news every day in our country, has a way of making you feel that people are looking out for themselves only.  Political shenanigans, dishonesty, cheating, lying, and mean-spirited back and forth, gives you the sense that people who are moral and upright, people who have character and integrity, people who are humble and honest are rare, if not extinct.

It was refreshing to see that this is not the case.  In the year 2019, a man who feels he's done something wrong can still pull in the driveway and apologize, man to man, for a mis-deed, even if he was guilty of no intentional wrong-doing.  It gave me hope for the future.

As I thought about this, it reminded me of an event that took place forty-something years ago, but it always stuck with me.  I was riding in the passenger seat of my dad's truck to the farm.  We turned off the main road and were driving down a two lane blacktop road right in front of a neighbor's house near a set of rice bins next to the highway.

All of a sudden out of nowhere a chicken darted out of the ditch and into the road.  Chickens are notorious around the farm for eating the rice that falls onto the road and this answers the question, "Why did the chicken cross the road?" at least around Oberlin, Louisiana.  The chicken was intent on eating and didn't see my dad's truck.  We felt that familiar thump underneath the truck's tires as we flattened the hen out.

Image Credit

Although that isn't the actual photo, that is sort of what she might have looked like if I had a camera on me 40-something years ago.  My dad put the truck in reverse and drove into the driveway of the farm house.  "What are you doing?"  I asked.  "I'm going to pay for the chicken," Dad said.  I remember thinking, "It wasn't Dad's fault.  Why was he going to pay for a dumb bird that should have stayed in the yard?"

It was a lesson that didn't need to be explained.  It was being lived out.  It was doing the right thing.  I've often heard it said that character is doing the right thing when no one is watching.  The neighbor kid that rutted up our ditch could have driven on down the road and no one would have ever seen.  Forty years ago, my dad could have kept on going and we would have been around the corner before the feathers stopped flying and no one would have known what happened. 

Doing the right thing isn't always easy.  When we run off in the ditch or flatten out a chicken, we have a choice.  What we do with that choice, even if no one ever sees, defines us as men.  Even if no one sees, God sees. 

2 Chronicles 16:9  For the eyes of the LORD run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to shew himself strong in the behalf of them whose heart is perfect toward him.

The End of a Long, Hot Day

From the rising of the sun to its setting The name of the LORD is to be praised.  Psalm 113:3

The dog days of summer.  They are sweltering and hot.  And humid.  Just walking outside to go to work, I can feel that bead of sweat running down the small of my back before I'm ten feet out the door.  It is uncomfortable, but relief is on the way.  

Even in the summertime, there are moments in the evening just before the sun goes down that are cool and beautiful.  Often Tricia will look out the kitchen window and say, "Let's go out in the front.  The sun is just right!"  And we'll run out the front door and enjoy God's grand finale.  It's when He causes the sun to cast long shadows across the landscape.

It's a peaceful time.  The day is done.  It's time to relax and breathe in the fresh country air - even if it is still a little too hot and sticky for my liking.

The chores have all been done.  The hens are making their way to their roosts.  The calves are separated and calling for their mommas.  The goats are off somewhere getting into trouble, who knows?  And who cares?  We'll just watch as the "credits start to roll" as we take in the final moments of the day.

From the front porch, you can watch as the sun dips below the trees on the western horizon.  Just a simple way to enjoy the serenity of a late summer afternoon.

And if you are really quick, you can hold the sun in your hand!

Good night, everyone!

A Couple of Late Season Plantings

Still hot down here in August.  Since it was so wet in the spring, we experienced lots of crop failure.  I've tried some things in the garden that I've never tried before, putting in crops in the heat of the summer rather than waiting until later to try to make up for some lost time.  If it doesn't work, it doesn't work

In the first photo below, I started some seeds on the back patio in early July so that I could get them in the ground as soon as I could.  These are pumpkins - New England Sugar Pies and Sweet Dumpling Squash.  I generally try to have these planted on July 4th.  I love pumpkin pie in the fall and hopefully the seedlings you see will produce nice pumpkins that Tricia can transform into delicious pies and cheesecakes.

Our yellow crookneck squash and zucchini squash were attacked by squash borers with an absolute vengeance this year.  Perhaps the fall planting will provide better results.  I've said this a million times, but as many times as I plant, I'm always amazed with the miracle of a seed.  A dead-looking seed is placed in soil, watered, and in a few days things start happening!

The seed pops through the soil with such determination, pushing the soil out of the way and reaching toward daylight.

Finally, the cotyledon opens!

We'll get these in the ground later this week.  In other garden news, we planted a bunch of cucumbers and transplanted them to the trellis bed, the last of the corn is tasseling, the sunflowers are about to bloom, the sweet potato vines are expanding all over the garden, the green beans are blooming, the okra are about to begin producing in massive quantities, the zinnias are blooming, the late planted cantaloupe and watermelon are vining and blooming, the luffa and birdhouse gourds are vining like crazy, the purple hull peas are yielding great and the blackeyed peas are about to begin producing.

We sat outside this evening with an uncharacteristic breeze blowing, talking about how many days until cooler weather comes in.  Wow!  Cooler weather has me thinking about planting broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, carrots, chard, kale, and all those great cold weather plants!

New Life on the Farm

Yesterday we talked about losing a baby goat.  It was odd, because Domino seemed to be the strongest of Annie's triplets.  When he got sick, though, it knocked him down quickly.  We're on the final day of treatment for the other affected buckling, and he seems to be progressing nicely toward a full recovery.  It's always sad to lose an animal you weren't expecting on losing.  That's just the way it goes, however.  Animals are remarkably resilient and time marches on.

As if to get our minds off of the loss of Domino, we looked over during evening chores to see a momma hen come strutting up with her feathers all fluffed out with four baby chicks following closely behind her!  We went from being sad about the loss to being happy about new life in an instant.

We have hens that get broody all the time, but we don't let them set.  This hen got wise and decided she'd go find a hiding place, lay some eggs there, hatch them, and raise her babies without us having a say in the matter.  I looked and looked and finally found her hiding place.  In the bull pasture (that we call the bull pen), there is an old dog kennel under a chicken tractor.  I opened up the end of the tractor so that Buckwheat, the billy goat, can get inside when it is raining.  The momma hen figured she could get inside too!  I found the eggshells left over from the hatched out chicks.  I also found two un-hatched eggs.  Perhaps they weren't fertilized?  We try to have 1 rooster for every 10 hens to ensure fertilization, but sometimes that ratio doesn't work out.

We also found one baby chick that hatched out, but for whatever reason, didn't survive.  This happens from time to time.

At first the momma hen keep her little family far away from us and the rest of the chickens.  Slowly, she began to bring them closer, especially when I threw some hen scratch and laying pellets her way.

She began to teach her little ones how to scratch hay out of the way to expose the feed.  She was a good teacher.  The chicks imitated her actions and soon were scratching, pecking, and eating - just like momma!

I put out a pan of clean water for the chicks and we'll keep a close eye on them.  It'll be fun to watch them grow up!