26. How is it the Middle of December Already?
Time is flying and I’m trying to catch it with little luck. At the very least, I can give a little YIP of joy because I’ve finished grading finals, and won’t have to think about courses or content or assessment for the next couple of weeks (when it starts all over again at the beginning of January).
The last three weeks have seen some changes worthy of sharing at the farm, or at least, news I’m happy about.
We finally got our stimulus check, which means we can afford to finish our floors. Woot, double-woot-woot! How quickly that install will be completed is totally up to the Hubs, and while I’m excited that we can finish, I’m not in a rush to get it done, so I hope he doesn’t feel too pressured. He did, however, get a portable table saw out of this work deal, so at least he’s adding to his tool arsenal through this renovation. He’s also amassed a circular saw, reciprocating saw, Dremel tool (oh the attachments alone are enough to make a man swoon), and an impact drill.
I had a birthday, and am now middle-aged, I guess. At forty-one, I will most likely hit eighty-two (based on my family’s genetic inclination toward longevity), so there’s that news. I don’t feel what forty+ seems to be in our society, but then again, I’ve always felt a little behind my age as far as development and milestones are concerned. I feel like I’m closer to eleven in my emotional maturity, and maybe thirty physically, but heck, what do I know?
With my birthday came two new additions to the farm: a little kitty-pants appeared with lots of mucus and meows, bony-skinny, with a round belly. The vet confirmed it is filled with worms, not babies. Lucky break for all involved, and while she is very small (a mere three pounds!), we were informed that she is not a baby, but instead, three or four years old. Regardless, she is a cute one, very affectionate, talkative, and trying to win over Carl and Lenny. So far, Carl is on board, but Lenny thinks she has cooties. We’ve named her Midge. She is a tiny weirdo, so she fits right in around here.
The other new addition is a clutch of eggs to hatch. I’ve decided to try my hand at hatching out some chicks since I have three broody hens itching to be mothers. For the uninitiated, “broody” is the term used for when hens signal they want to make eggs turn into babies. They do this by “setting” in the nesting box with a glazed look, not getting out, and protesting loudly when moved only to quickly scurry back to their nesting spot. If the weather is especially bad, this behavior can be dangerous since they don’t move for a couple of weeks: no eating, no drinking, only setting. My aim is to stick some eggs underneath them, and hope that in 21 days, little peepers will emerge from underneath all that incubated fluff. Since I have roosters, they have been mating almost all of the hens (minus the matrons, since those old birds won’t have any of the roos’ hanky-panky) have been mated. Each hen can set about a dozen eggs, but I’ll let them each have three or four. Once the babies hatch, the mamas will keep them warm, teach them about eating and drinking, and fight off any advances or unwanted attention from the rest of the flock (including those idiot boys). So I guess I won’t have to buy day-old chicks any more, or at least, for the time being, depending on how this experiment works. I will also have to begin killing my roosters, since I’m sure the hatch out will result in even more of those showy turds. While I may luck out and only get one or two, I could also only get roos, so I have to be prepared to deal with the eventuality of having too many roosters, and steel myself for making them meals.
I haven’t eaten chicken since I began keeping them, so this will certainly be a new experience, and one that will completely change my orientation in raising poultry. No more names for these guys, I guess, unless I’m okay with sentences tossed across the dinner table like, “Doesn’t Gregor taste succulent?”
Oh, poor Gregor.
Additionally, the Easter Eggers have finally begun to lay at six months old. As far as farm efficiency goes, that’s no bueno—the other babies began laying at four months, so these free-loaders have had two months of nothing but eating food, chasing each other around, and looking cute. The lousy bums! But I have to admit, the color of their eggs kind of makes up for it.
So that’s all the news that’s fit to print, as they say, and as December winds down, January will give way to the 2021 growing season, one that I hope will benefit from my failures of 2020. I hope we can all benefit from our failures this year, otherwise, what’s the point?
I’ll be looking forward to the coming planning months to solidify the work for 2021, and hopefully, transition to NOT working off farm. But each project in its time—I need this on repeat.