The Wool Food Mama

Fail.

It's a very good thing that I'm comfy with failure. I woke up this morning, a nice slow start, lingering over Brian's company and the hot coffee in my hand, then wham! Oh crap, I forgot to blog last night. Fail.

Crinkled nose, several cups of coffee and a chapter on cattle herding later, finds me here. 

I don't have anything flashy or divine to make up for the lost day.  Apologetic of course, but no excuses either. I just forgot.

I'd spent the day with my mom, traveling to northern Minnesota to celebrate my nephew's graduation.  It was going to be a long day in the car (8 hours round trip) but I still looked forward to it;  Mom's company, my sister's quirks, my niece and nephew's hugs.  Delightfully surprised by the attendance of aunts, uncles and cousins that I'd not seen since my father's passing in 1986.  

Strange how time stands still. Auntie Carol, still the tiniest of women with the most enthusiastic greetings. The kind that make you immediately feel missed and loved.  Don, dry and witty, still cracks me up.  Richard friendly, patient and charming. 

I wondered on the way home what propels us to grow up, move away, transplant roots that are already established. 

When I arrived home, I met up with my husband and the other side of my family swilling back their eleventieth pot of coffee, kids running and laughing, and was immediately, and excitedly, "sat down" for a family proposal. 

Hmmmm?  Was this the caffeine's juice at work?  Maybe the arrival of nephews from North Carolina. Or is it South Carolina? I never can remember. There was a buzz in the air and it was most certainly a good buzz.

Brian, with salesmanship poured into his veins, started quietly.  Ah, the soft sell.  Land Kate, lots of land, room for cattle, we'll do it together, all of us.  We have mothers to think about, cousins that should be growing up together, room for every whim and every adventure.... 

I already knew what they were trying to sell. I knew it at "Land Kate" but I still wanted to hear his words, their words for things like intentional community, walking and speaking quietly to build trust, not putting pressure on the family flight-zone, fueling the group instead of feeding a lone ego, strength in numbers, pooling resources. 

They pitched me the building of a foundation herd.

I don't have a (human) model to draw upon, or a handbook to guide me. So this one, I'm willing to jump into.  With both feet and eyes wide.  With the herd. Ready to fail, instead of not trying.  

Graduation

I'll let the pictures speak for my singing heart...

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why the baby deer?  Well, it just seemed to be the perfect punctuation on a perfect day.  New beginnings.  Parent and child. 

There was a "flower ceremony" at the graduation today.  The graduates were to deliver a flower to one person at the ceremony that made it all possible.  While there was an entire row of people there that helped, in some way, to make this all possible, Forrest climbed over a row of seats to brush the petals across my face.  I totally fell apart and was flooded with pure joy for my first born son. I was overcome with wanting to split that bouquet in half because I knew they weren't all mine.  So I quickly handed the flowers to Brian because they were every bit his too, of course. I imagine it's wise for a young man to choose his mother as the recipient of the flowers though.  Especially so he can hug her while she tries to bury her, quite unexpected, tearful jag on his shoulder. 

We did it, Brian and I.  We raised one of the most amazing young men I've ever met. 

And I'm not just saying that because I'm his mother.

I don't really know what I'm trying to accomplish here...

Working at the farm, jonesing for beef cattle, falling asleep with some grassman book on my face, dropping two pant sizes in as many months.

I can't seem to really articulate a goal at all and I'm surprisingly really comfortable in this undefined place. It all just feels right.  My life, without a point on the compass, is clipping along just fine.

If that wasn't enough, I have this incredibly patient husband that is quietly watching. He's encouraging and understanding.  Doesn't really say much, but smiles a lot. He doesn't nudge or press.

Until yesterday.

I happened to be at our shop and he walked in and declared "what perfect timing, there's someone you need to meet. He's here and you're here too. *insert chuckle* What perfect timing!!!" omg, what the heck?

His new friend is the owner of a small town butcher shop. Probably one of the longest family held processors in a 100 mile radius. Federally stamped with the longest waiting list for private processing ever.

*gulp*

It was, hands down, one of the coolest conversations I've ever had. We chatted up breeds and quality and when he was feeling comfy he started sharing "on the farm" processing that he's been doing since he was a child. Old school summer sausage, cold and warm dry aging, the smoke house...processes that he didn't think "city folk" knew of. Lost processing practices because of the high demand needs of 'wet' butchering.

And if that wasn't enough, the "new friend" had his brother in law in tow. The brother in law that has been charged with the re-opening of the poultry processing division. "Let me see this 'label rouge freedom ranger' of which you speak. " Oh geez.

I was in stuttering and sputtering heaven. Brian was amused.

Then, came the buzz kill question. "so what are you trying to do?"

Omg, I didn't want to answer. I actually kind of wanted a little bit of approval before we waded the life's aspiration question and I most certainly didn't want to be that person.  The person wasting their time. In other words, I didn't want to reveal, just yet, how little I know. But I swallowed hard on my ego *ugh* and choked out the abbreviated truth; I don't have the foggiest idea, but it involves beef, a foundation herd of mothers & daughters, sisters & aunts and that makes me 3 years away from anything.

silence. oh sh*t, they just saw my freak flag.

"Well, I get first shot when you're ready."

My husband rocks my world.

Chicken playing possum

Chickens take dirt baths.  Free range chickens do anyway and they take them often and sometimes they take them very seriously.

So seriously, in fact, that twice (maybe three times) I've thought one of my girls had died.

 

Like really dead. Oh crap Harriet died, look around for a shovel, kind of dead

 

Oh for goodness sakes Harriet.

Not dead. again.

Garden surprises

Onion bulbs that didn't make the harvest last year. I'm not really sure what happens when onions bloom, but I can't wait to see it when it does.

An explosion of succulents that I don't remember planting.

 

I didn't know this had blooms!  I thought it was just pretty green ground cover.

 

All sorts of perennials going to seed...

 

Even a peony! I've never had one go to seed before...

New life from a "dead" lilac.

 

Finally.

We wait all year for this season and it's finally here. 

 

 

 

 

 

Awwww, do it again Baby Dane...

 

 

 

Ahhhh....

Baseball season.

Ink

Mama, do you know where ink comes from? 

I love being quizzed by my 6 year old.  I really, really do.  I'm not particularly crazy when I'm quizzed and the quizzer is wrong because she'll argue relentlessly with me until I finally concede to her inaccurrate facts. 

Fortunately, she's rarely wrong. 

So today, she had my full attention because I really wanted to know if the child of a wool dyer has been paying attention. *whew* she has.

"I think I know, but why don't you tell me," I answered. 

"Ink comes from flowers, mama."  Gusty declared and then gave me a visual tutorial.  Actually, she wanted to ink up the driveway. Shudder.  I remember what a dandelion can do to a driveway.  I remember staining a driveway with dandelions and well, yeah. 

"Could we maybe find something else," I pathetically pleaded. 

Thank goodness she's clever.  Rocks never looked so lovely.

 

Who knew geraniums could transfer such a pretty color.

 

If only we wool workers could capture her eye color so easily....

Rain Barrels

I've wanted rain barrels for so long and I was absolutely thrilled when I got a matched set for my birthday this year.

Actually, I collected barrels for awhile, but I never got them converted into rain barrels.  I had all sorts of parts and I just never got them put together.  I happen across a spigot in the kitchen junk drawer, find the washers I needed in the glove box, never did get around to getting a drill bit, bleh, where is everything again? Well, maybe another day.

The parts are still all over the place for the someday barrels. But my new rain barrels are all set up and have already collected rain! Have I mentioned that ready-to-go-barrels are SO nice?  Maybe now that the pressure is off, I can get the someday barrels assembled too, for out by the chicken coop.

Anyway.

I needed a platform so I set about putting something together from little piles of leftovers which are  scattered about the yard.

I made this....

...from mismatched and broken retaining wall blocks, a pile of sand that sat on the edge of the driveway and sample tiles that didn't make the grade for the mud room. Yay!  Three piles gone. 

I should note that the barrel on the right side was too low, so I built it up with 2 old blocks and 3 pieces of scrap wood.  Yay!  Five piles gone. lol.  No photo tho because it started to rain!!!  hahaha

 

The rain source will eventually have a rain chain.  As soon as I make one! snort.

Whew it felt good to get that done.  I just couldn't stand the thought of another rain passing without doing some collecting.

Date night with John Lyons

Not a typical date choice, especially for two townies that have never owned a horse. But our favorite store, Fleetfarm was hosting a free seminar with guest speaker, John Lyons so we decided to go.

 

Brian and I were absolutely mesmerized by this soft spoken, kind of funny, motivational speaker posing as a horseman.    His "break the mold on everything everyone ever taught you and follow your heart" message was just so refreshing. So needed.

You don't have to understand why anything works, you don't need to follow a bunch of models and rules set forth by those that have gone before you. What works for one, doesn't work for another.  A heavy hand never really works, except to stroke your own ego.  Goodness, it just goes on and on.

His "class" was rooted in respect.  But I walked away feeling more learned in trust.  Trust yourself.  It speaks quietly within you...what needs to happen will then surely follow.  Once you trust.

And what follows could very well be a very large horse. Or two.

 

yes, that's a horse sitting on a bean bag chair.  Told you he was kind of funny.  Check your feed shops to see if he's on their calendar.  I promise you, he's worth your time. 

Anti-theft system

I about fell over, last week, when I realized I may actually grow and harvest my own blueberries this year.  I'd had sad and pathetic looking transplants last year.  All of the blooms promptly fell off and the plants just sat.  Like toads, not doing anything.  Not growing, not dying, just sitting.

I figured my soil was unsuitable, so I shook some coffee grounds around each plant months ago and forgot about them.

Well, there's nothing quite like a little tending and a bunch of neglect to set the stage for  promising results.

 

Enter....thieves! Thieves everywhere! Chickens, song birds....deer!  Look at what deer can do.

Suddenly neglecting was no longer prudent and I came up with my best chicken wire, fabric and bubblegum solution.

 

Here's my tester, checking out the system.

Flimsy? yes. But it just might work!  *crosses fingers*