Farewell Freedom

The new chicken coop requires a few more minor repairs before it is completely winterized: A board near the base needs to be nailed back on. Grandpa's old nesting boxes will have to get hung on the back wall. The two lambing jug gates should get removed and a real roost should get installed in the corner. But for now, all chickens are accounted for and living in the coop.

The chickens are not that happy about it. They seem fairly bewildered by their new confinement. Since May they have had the run of the farm. They roosted anywhere they pleased (always somewhere I didn't want them to.) They laid their eggs in places only the dogs could find. And they made sure the path from the parking spot to the back door was thoroughly pooped upon.

Yesterday brought great excitement for us on the chicken front: For quite a while, two of our hens, (a barred and a buff Brahma) have been roosting in some secret place. Then a few days ago, the Brahma disappeared altogether. We were so disappointed to loose her just when we finally had a coop for more protection. I was heartbroken because buff Brahma bantams are my absolute favorite type of chicken.

Yesterday morning she turned up to scratch with the rest of the flock. A while later, our youngest son called us outside because he had found something special-the Brahma sitting on 13 eggs in a little nest near the edge of the forest. We hadn't lost her at all, she had just gone broody. And our son had watched her carefully until she returned to her nest. With much care, we transferred her and her eggs to a wire rabbit cage that we placed in the new coop. We are really hoping at least some of the tiny eggs hatch out. This little hen has been roosting elsewhere for so long it is possible.

Last night we abducted the rooster and his three faithful hens from their roost just outside our dining room window. (They literally watched us eat our supper every night.) Our plan was to get all the chickens in the coop and then keep them in there. The chicken-napping was successful and we had 5 of the 6 fowl contained. We had searched long and hard for the last barred hen but couldn't find her.

As usual, our kids knew all about her hiding spot. Apparently she roosted in their favorite climbing tree-a cedar in the old windbreak. Sure enough, Clancy and I found her perched clear out at the end of a low limb-perfectly camouflaged. We had walked under her many times and would never have found her if the boys hadn't tattled on her.

So by 7 pm last night, all of our chickens were safely tucked into the coop. And there they shall stay until we get a fence built to enclose the tiny building. No more wild and free chickens until next summer. We were rewarded this morning with our first fresh egg of the year. Hopefully more will follow.

"Chasing Blue Demons"

Clancy had another small show open last night in Bemidji at the Wild Hare Bistro. It will hang through the end of November.

After the reception, where we indulged ourselves with fabulous food created by the Wild Hare (love you guys!) we enjoyed another destination on the First Friday Art Walk: The Bemidji Community Arts Center.

Three incredible women artists are showing at the BCAC. The entire show, in three separate galleries, was so powerful and moving that I don't have the words to express how I felt. Paula Swenson, Susan Kedzie-Webb, and Bridget Riversmith created works that are worth seeing. SO worth seeing. I intend to visit a few more times to soak it all up before it is gone. I encourage others to take time to view this beautiful show, too.

Happy Halloween!

Selena and Sabrina, circa 1980.

Speechless

Last Sunday, Clancy finished installing the maple flooring in my kitchen. This was his birthday present to me, or so I thought.

I got busy vacuuming up the mess because our good friend, Gail, had just called to say she'd be over a little after noon. Clancy and I had decided a while back to hire Gail to build our cabinets, since she is an excellent cabinet maker and we love to have things in our house made by friends. I assumed Clancy had asked her over to take the measurements against the new flooring while he had the temporary sink-cupboard pulled out.

When I switched off the vacuum and walked through the kitchen to say "Hi" this is what I saw:

Gail and Clancy installing the exact cupboards I had drawn sketches of, over and over, for years.

I was undone.

It is a very humbling experience to realize people love you and care about you, want you to be happy, and were listening to you when you talked about your dreams.

This is the new cupboard that will hold the sink. We still have to install the counter top, the sink from the house I grew up in, and the hinges on the cabinet doors. (The first-choice hinges didn't fit because the wood used for construction was thicker than modern cabinetry.)
My dad gave Clancy the wood-gorgeous clear white pine. Clancy successfully conspired to have the cabinets built and he supplied the materials. Gail made the cabinets in record time. And even though I intend to paint them a creamy white, I think they are beautiful already. (the walls are not really electric yellow-more of a butter yellow)

Words cannot express how thankful I am to the friends and family in on the surprise. My mother took care of the boys the whole weekend so Clancy could get the floor finished in time. I did wonder about that, Mom. Selena kept the secret. Gail was absolutely silent. :) And my dear Mom-in-law gave me a new sink faucet for my birthday to celebrate the progress on the kitchen. You are all too good to me.

Even though we've been too busy this week to make any more progress on the kitchen, I sit on the floor in there every day, just admiring the beauty of what is to come. Needless to say, the dogs and their scratchy little toenails are drawn like magnets to the unblemished new flooring. They know they are not supposed to be in this room. But the kitchen does have the best sunshine in the house.

Big Red and the Incredible Hulk

Winter is on the way. Time to get a few things tucked in before the snow flies. As usual, a long series of steps are necessary to cross even a single task off the to-do list...

Objective: Get the chickens into a coop.

Two weeks ago the chickens were advertised for a ridiculous price in the local paper. My own boys and my young nephew were quite excited about spending the potential monetary gain until they realized they would have to say "good-bye" to the chickens. Oh, the tears. A nice young girl called about the chickens. I told her, reluctantly, they were no longer available.

I surrendered the cute little renovated playhouse to the "Save the Chickens" cause. It is the perfect size for a small flock of poultry. My small flock of sheep have outgrown it.

Challenge: Position the coop near the house.

The soon-to-be coop is sitting out in the middle of the sheep pasture. No security, no electricity, no chance I'm walking clear across the farm every freezing winter morning to feed chickens. Built on skids, the tiny building was designed to be portable. It does, however, require a bobcat or a tractor to pull it.

Facts: The bobcat is unavailable this weekend. I do not know how to drive the tractor myself. A hulking pickup truck is marooned in the only acceptable location for the coop.

Solution: Clancy.

Although my husband has plenty of more important things to do, I have reached the end of my patience with the whole chicken situation. I announced Thursday that the chickens would get moved this weekend. I am relatively sure Clancy agreed to my ultimatum because he intended to move some dirt with the tractor for a neighbor on Sunday anyway.

This evening, Clancy pulled the battery out of the old Massey and installed it in the old green Ford he uses perhaps once a year. (It was supposed to be the snowplow truck but the plow broke. So now we use it as our "in and out" vehicle during spring when the road is impassible with mud and we park our daily drivers two miles away at Mom and Dad's place.) Being the primitive beast that it is, the Ford roared to life with a ferocious spew of blue smoke. Temporarily engulfed, it chugged away from it's heavy cloud of fumes to it's new resting spot beside the shed that used to be a chicken coop. Then my dear husband lugged the battery out of the truck and back to the rarely used tractor. Being the primitive beast that it is, the tractor roared to life with a ferocious spew of blue smoke...

Clancy took a run up and down the driveway with the back blade since he had the thing running. Tomorrow he'll crawl the tractor two miles an hour toward the neighbor's house which is three miles away. When he returns, from what he estimates will be a four hour job, he will pull the new chicken coop into position and I will cease to nag him about it. I seriously wonder if he has factored travel time into his schedule. We shall see...

Trumpeter Swans

Since last Friday, Trumpeter Swans have been flocking to Boston Lake. They seem to be gathering together for their upcoming migratory flight.

One pair of swans, and their two pearly grey cygnets, have been on the lake for quite a few weeks. They swim as a family unit distinct from the incoming swans.

On Saturday morning, as I drove past the south end of the lake where the road actually is the shoreline, I counted fourteen swans. They were so close to the road that I held my breath and slowed the truck. Incredible. Eventually they drifted farther away from the shore and I went on my way.

Later that same day I snapped this photo. Unfortunately, I had just adjusted the camera to produce the least-dense image possible. Again, I missed my opportunity to share a really stunning photo of these magnificent birds. But I will never forget the awesome beauty of seeing so many Trumpeters at once.

It's Going to be a Great Day!

I love this day. For the longest time I thought I was the only person on Earth that was fortunate enough to have October 19th be her birthday. My condescending little self felt just a tiny bit sorry for everyone else. The day I discovered that thousands of other people were born on this same day I burned with indignation and jealousy. Obviously, I had a lot to learn about sharing!

I usually dig out my old photo albums the night before my birthday, so I can reminisce over years past. Last night, as I looked back at my childhood photos, I noticed that my mother always took great pains to make my birthday a special day for me. Thank you, Mom.

Birthdays were pretty simple back then, but they were shared with people I loved. Mom always made a beautiful cake. The cake was always served on the very-special-and-oh-so-novel-rotating-cake plate that played "Happy Birthday" like a music box. I got to wear my best dress around the house. Mom fixed my hair and sometimes put ribbons in it. My grandparents were invited over for the evening, as well as my cousins and neighbor friends. And as hard as it was to bear back then, I got to savor the anticipation of opening my presents all day long. The experience was one I looked forward to with delight every year. And even though I keep getting older, I still feel a sense of celebration over the fact. Which is way better than dreading it...I did that when I turned 30 and it was no fun.

It has become a habit to reflect on my life around my birthday. I'm a whole year older. Am I where I want to be? Usually there is at least one glaring problem that I resolve to give attention to in the coming year. This year there are two. (Truthfully there are dozens but I asked God to help me narrow it down into a realistic goal.) One is largely spiritual. The other is purely domestic:

1. Taken directly from Beth Moore's Breaking Free Bible study: "Being created for God's glory means two marvelous truths to those who are called by His name: *God wants to make Himself recognizable to us* and *God wants to make Himself recognizable through us*" This statement fell into my heart and illuminated areas of my life that are sorely lacking in commitment to Christ. I feel very compelled to focus on this in the coming year. I also feel relief, because I knew something wasn't right in my soul, but I hadn't really identified it. I believe God answered my prayer for a clear direction.

2. I must make cleaning my house a habit. When it comes to housework, I feel just like Jonah when he was asked to go to Nineveh: I run in the opposite direction. Last night I listed things I would rather do and (this is gross) treating full blown fly strike on my ram's head wound ranked higher than doing the dishes. Something has to change. I used to pray that I would learn to enjoy house chores. Now I'm just going to pray for the self discipline to DO them. This means I will be singing aloud to my Roger Miller CD at the top of my lungs at least once a day to drown out the voice in my head screaming "I hate this job!" I'll have to employ the CD, because I know for a fact I have never accomplished more than 5 consecutive minutes of house cleaning without it. Hopefully my family is willing to audibly suffer for a more organized home.

So what am I going to do on this blustery October birthday of mine?

I'm going to shower with rose scented soap this morning. Then I'm going to put on somthing that matches the gorgeous scarf my dearest friend, Kimberly, sent me. (Thank you, thank you! I love it!!) After that I'm going to drive to Gonvic to discuss my farm soil's mineral deficiencies with a nutritionist that can provide a custom mineral/salt mix for my flock of sheep. If all goes well, the boys and I will stop for ice cream while we are up there. Back at home I will have to clean house! and get the boys ready to go camping. Drop them off with their chaperons. Then get myself ready to be surprised. Clancy hasn't revealed what his plan is, but he mentioned that I would probably want to put on clean clothes. (Translation: "Please be wearing something besides rubber boots and that nasty barn coat by 5:30pm.") Sounds like fun...whatever it is.