Now, y'all may be scratching your heads here...wondering how on earth I can be chatting with livestock when I haven't any cattle or sheep or goats here--you know those animals typically considered livestock. 

*insert a snicker*

Well, I have chickens and bees. Both livestock. Sure, they may not have four feet and chew the cud, but they are live stock. 

I'll let you in on Racheal's method of livestock keeping...

First off, I tend to be the lazy keeper kind. The way I see it, critters can pretty much handle themselves and since they did before domestication, I consider that they will be stronger and healthier if I don't pamper them. That being said, I am not a careless livestock owner either, nor do I abuse my animals. I most definitely see to it that they are fed...and since it has warmed (and dried!!) up, I attempt to clean the chicken coop once a week--that is, when I am feeling up to it. If I don't, well, those birds can keep right on living on week old+ straw and you know. They really don't seem to mind, but then again they do kind of like the new straw--if only because they scratch through it and find whatever lurking wheat berries might still be in it. That's a chicken for you--put down a nice layer of straw and in an hour you can see the mud again. 

Second off, I talk (sometimes goofy) to my animals--chicken and bees. I can talk chicken fairly well, but understanding the bee's humming is summing I haven't quite gotten the hang of yet. I imagine it's kind of ridiculous, but I stand with an elbow on top of the hive, my ankles cross and say nice, encouraging things to my bees. I ask them questions (I know, I sound like a dope)...for instance, "How's your Queenie doing?" and stuff of that ilk. Naturally, they don't answer me, but I enjoy my idiocy, even if they don't. This serves a double purpose--comfortableness around bees and so, perhaps, they get to know me as something other than a threat. I don't know...but it's an interesting question: can a bee tell one human from another? 

Oh, and speaking of livestock, I should be getting my meat birds (finally!) tomorrow morning. All one hundred peeping baby birds. Now, that's a racket for you! I do look forward to it, for, as stinky as chickens can be, I rather enjoy raising the noisome, nosesome critters. I also, I must confess, thoroughly enjoy eating them as well...and it is rather hard to get emotionally attached to any in such a dramatic number as 100. Cows, perhaps, but not chickens. While it is true that chickens do have different personalities, cows are so much more personable--and more easily distinguishable from one another--maybe, if you don't have a pure bred herd--which has never been the case with our cattle as far as I am aware.

Hopefully by tomorrow I shall feel good and full of energy (unlike the past two days) and be all properly enthusiastic, as well as having the brain power to do something useful. I need to make more rompers...but that's another subject for another time.

Here's to hopes that all my chickies make it alive! 

I say that rather tongue-in-cheek since I don't really feel so messed up...and I didn't really have too much that needed adjustment when I went to the chiropractor yesterday morning with Savannah. 

However, since then, I have done some Grandpa lifting in addition to some other things (we'll get there in a minute). Anyway, Grandpa is going through "med-adjustment syndrome". The dear old guy is so dreadfully susceptible to medications...he gets knocked off his head nearly every time he either goes on a new one, or even if he runs out of something and has a few days off. By this evening, he seems to be leveling out some. He spent the entire afternoon in bed and we just recently got him up. He did most of the transfer himself. Maybe by tomorrow evening he will be able to transfer safely on his own. I hope so! 

This afternoon, I tackled a job that caused Grandpa to turn up his nose when I told him what I was fixing  to go do. I cleaned the chicken coop. I should have taken before and after photos--or not. I would then have shown off what a dirty chicken farmer I am. The long and the short of it is that I cleaned out all winter's build up out of the old coop. The first wheel barrow load was a bit too much for me and I ended up accidentally tipping it over. Almost half of the stinking mess then sprawled all over the ground in front of the door--so I did my best to clean that up. After that, I stuck to roughly half full barrow loads. It is interesting how heavy wet chicken "stuff" is. It took probably an hour and a half to do the scraping and shoveling. When I got done with that, I put the hose on the most firehose setting I could get out if it and washed the coop down from ceiling to what is currently mud floor. 

Once it dries out (probably tomorrow), I will go in and put clean straw down (making a mental note to do a little chicken coop clean up at least once a week), prepare all the 'furniture' (water can, feed bucket), and then run the girls from the newer coop on in. 

Then, oh joy! Another coop to clean. Unfortunately, the second one is rather mite infested (more evidence that I need to work harder at chicken farming). Once I get that cleaned up I will organize it to my liking as a brooder coop. I am looking forward to getting peepers soon! Chickens may stink when they are wet...but I rather like the insane birds.

Savannah tells me supper is done...and am I ever ready for it!! 

Bye y'all!  

Most of what I did yesterday (time wise) was in one way or another connected to an engine. 

I started out the day (pre-breakfast, post-coffee and "dirt" [detoxer]) butchering another chicken. I finished the job this morning with butchering the very last one and slipping "Blackie" in with the Golden Comets. Now I can clean the old coop (though I seriously doubt I have the energy to do it today) and move the newer birds in. Once I do that, I will need to clean the OTHER coop and THEN I can get my meat birds! 

We have been eating the old birds which I have been killing off on at a one a day rate for a little over a week now and they are rather tough. Could be worse though flavor-wise. Due to the single-chicken at a time routine I have been following, I have just been skinning them out rather than taking the time to heat water and then pluck them. I'm getting pretty familiar with the best way to skin out a chicken...

Shortly after breakfast yesterday, Mama and I took Grandpa to a doctor's appointment. The heart doctor is Cuban. He walked into the room and started speaking and I thought, "Cuban. He sounds exactly like Desi Arnaz [aka Ricky Ricardo from I Love Lucy if you didn't know that... ;]."

Grandpa is doing pretty good, so he doesn't need to go back for another six months according to Dr. A. He did put him back onto one medicine that he had taken him off of, but not all three. It should help the swelling in his feet as well as lower his blood pressure just a bit. (A desired effect.)

We stopped in at a garden/hardware store on the way home and picked up some more green bean seed, a pretty plant (I forget the name), and some parsnip seed. I like parsnips, even if Grandpa doesn't. :)

When we got home we ate lunch...then I went out and check on my bees. Katherine took some pictures...

From there I went into a "diagnostic" on the car. The passenger floor board has been getting wet, so Mama talked to Daddy about it (he's in Dixie right now) and he told her something and when she relayed it to me, I got a little mixed up about what had been said...so I'm particularly glad that after perusing the book I gave him a call. (Oh, by the way, the issue is assumed to be connected to the A/C unit.) I learned the difference (more or less) between the A/C compressor and the A/C evaporator--which I never did actually lay eyes on, but anyway...

Tying up my hair like Rosie the Riveter, I started out by lifting the hood and peering into the depths of the engine while reading in the book. Then I called Daddy and changed tactics. I crawled into the front floor board on my back (which I didn't know I was capable of doing) and unscrewed this and that and developed a general idea of where what I thought I was after was located. Daddy had said that perhaps I could get to the drain from the inside. No go. I did manage to help clean up some of the water from the carpet though. The back of my shirt got quite damp.

Daddy had also said that if I couldn't get to it from the inside to put the car up on the ramps. So, I went a-searching for them, thinking I knew exactly where they were--which I did...more or less. They were within the same vicinity, but just so happened to have the little VW Rabbit on them. Hmph. That isn't going to work. So I crawled back into the floor board to replace the screws and called Daddy in that position. He suggested something that made me say, "That would be interesting..." and I heard Aunt Terry (who is also down in Dixie at the moment) laugh. I had already tried crawling under the car, but as it is closer to the ground than my bed (which I cannot get under), I nixed that idea in a second.

The next part of the day is that which Savannah quite enjoyed telling on me about. I walked into to the house and declared, "I have a request (Savannah would put the accent on the "re" which would probably be accurate)...I need you to drive the car over me."

Before you start gasping in horror, let me explain that I wasn't asking her to actually run over me, but to drive the car into the garage, over the well pit--with ME down in it. Who knew that a well, in the garage, would double for a grease monkey pit? Maybe it wasn't such an...interesting...idea after all. 

So anyway, I crawled down in there (with two ladders--one to get in and the step ladder to actually stand on down there--though I actually stood on both of them for the most part) and felt a little nervous as Savannah drove over me. (As Daddy had kidded, "You can pretend to be a GI in the foxhole while a tank drives over you." Not really a funny idea, particularly when I recall that two young soldiers actually did get run over and killed by a tank during training back when we were stationed at Fort Polk. I guess if your foxhole is deep enough and you were hunkered down a tank could drive over the top of you safely.)

I flashed my light up into the engine compartment identifying this, that, and the other...and trying not to bump my head on the tranny. Not spotting the evaporator (which according to Daddy looks something like a small radiator), I asked Savannah to go get my computer and look up the location of the A/C evaporator in this particular make and model of vehicle. She did, and sliding my computer where I could see it, showed me a diagram she had found. After peering at the diagram for a bit and looking over my head a little more, I determined that I couldn't actually see the evaporator, but those "tube thingys" with a rubber elbow protruding under them was what I was looking for. I had Savannah hold my flashlight (she had to lay on her back and stick her arm under the car, over the pit) while I went to work. The elbow itself popped off fairly easily and then I took the coat hanger I had been supplied with and snaked the drain. I cannot say whether or not I actually unblocked it (assuming it was blocked) because it was dry as a bone in there as the A/C hadn't been run for several days (aka, the last time it was out). Daddy had told me that I might get a snoot full of water if I unblocked it, but my logic (which could be faulty) thinks that any water that might have been in it wasn't any more because it was a) in the carpet and b) the vehicle hadn't been run (except to back it out and into the garage) for several days, giving ample time to both drain and evaporate. 

Savannah backed the car out and I emerged from the well pit, hands blacked from the axle and engine components. All in all, despite the attempt at a crick in my neck, I rather enjoyed the escapade and felt ridiculous that I should have experienced any apprehension concerning the car being driven over me. One sister was driving and the other guiding...nothing to fear there. :)

I went in, washed up--to a degree--took my final "killer" for the day, grabbed an apple out of the fridge for later (I ended up eating two in the next few hours), put my sandals back on, and strode off to the barn. There I inserted my ear plugs and greased up the mower. Soon she roared to life and I took off to mow the front yard and the road. I left the back mostly un-mowed because, after all, I am feeding bees and that clover that is beautifully dotting the landscape (and feeding nitrogen into the soil) is part of their food. (I actually startled Mama later in the day because I was up at the top of the rise, down on my elbows and knees watching a bee working a clover blossom and she didn't know I was there; so when she walked up the row in the garden to see me in the tall grass, I gave her a start. I have a bad habit of that...)

Yesterday was one of those full, dirty days in which I am particularly thankful for hot running water at the close of the day. 

Soo....let's see if I can make this interesting.

I started out the day with a serious head-washing. It was time to drop the lye soap for a wash and switch back to my favorite, baking soda and vinegar. There was only one problem with that...the vinegar spray bottle has gone AWOL. I'm wondering if it isn't sitting on the bathroom counter at Granddaddy's house... Anyway, pouring cold vinegar out of a pint jar isn't necessarily my favorite way to go about it, but I was bound and determined that my scalp and attached hair would thank me in the long run. 

So, with clean hair, I find out that I'm going to help clean out the chicken coop. :D Seriously, I always seem to have just washed my head when something potentially nasty comes up. Anyway, I braided my ponytail and looped it up on the back of my head, tied a scarf over the top, and put on the respirator (I have elevated mold levels, so we're trying to be careful with me on that front.)

Oh, by the way, maybe I ought to mention that the reason we were doing the chicken coop today was that it was actually above freezing (I believe it hit 41 today!) and Katherine really wanted to get some of the straw/chicken "stuff" build up out. She was actually going to do it, but Davy called and told Daddy he wanted to go ahead and get the rest of a tree they started on last week, so she went with Daddy to help. 

Mama and I headed for the chicken coop and  forked and scraped and pounded away at frozen chicken poop...but that was after we (and Katherine, they hadn't left yet--obviously) chased the chickens out of the coop and into the snowy run (they hate snow) and managed to free up a frozen gate (I broke it in the process, but it still works) to block them out. I got so hot doing that that I striped my heavy duty denim coat off and never put it back on. 

Anyway, we got started sometime around noon (we ate breakfast late, which turns out was a good thing!) and didn't get done til around 2. Believe me, I was pretty hungry by that time! 

To be completely honest, it felt good, to a degree, to get out and work like that. My upper body strength is still lacking, but worse than that, my left wrist was killing me. I astounded myself at one point my lifting this huge hunk of frozen straw and being able to pitch it into the back of the go-buggy...but man, did that hurt!

When we came in, I went right ahead and ate (I have that prerogative since getting too hungry a) seems to cause my Lyme stomach issues to flair and b) I tend to get rather grouchy) before everyone else.

After lunch, Mama did the dishes (I intended to) and I went straight to my stitching. I did not quite get the bodice finished on the dress I'm working on, but I feel like I did a good job on what I did get accomplished. Trying to learn from my mistakes you know...like being in such a state of excitement that I plow ahead instead of double-checking everything. That was part of the problem with the Harlequin dress.

Anyway, in the middle of this post, Savannah started playing "My Southern Soldier Boy" and I got this incurable itch to get my cello out and play along (we used to play that one together in Florida, but haven't done so since we've been here, I don't think). I am really rusty...and my wrist hurt (of course), so you can imagine that I didn't sound overly amazing, but with Savannah on the piano, Katherine on fiddle, and me on cello, I think the piece might have some potential if we actually played it at all frequently. I think I would play my cello more if it wasn't of necessity stored in the case...if I had a stand for it where all I had to do was reach out and pick it up (like my guitar), I think I'd so. :D

Ah, well...it seems like today was busy with various interesting items...

Well. With that clumsy title, I shall strive to detail (in an interesting fashion) my busy, full day for you.

I woke up (of course...or I wouldn't be writing this). The time was more or less normal ('round 7 a.m. give or take 10 to 20 minutes). 

I drank my coffee and read my Bible and by 9 a.m. I was dressed and booted...and scrounging about in the brooder coop setting up for the chicks that I expected to arrive this morning; only I didn't put the bedding in. All before breakfast. Believe me, I was ready for my eggs, onions, and left over Navy bean mush mess. It was delightful...Bear with my food raptures...I haven't had supper yet and it's practically 8:30.

The morning was spent in various activities readying folks for the market this afternoon. That and rushing around to settle my chicks who did come this morning, without prior warning from the Post Office (last time they called first). In other words, I had to put the bedding in with a box of loud peepers making a racket in my ears. Sometimes I think my ears are more sensitive than they used to be to loud noises (Lyme maybe? Dunno--the thing on the symptom list is "decreased hearing"...) It really, really got loud after I took the lid off the box and had about half of them in the brooder where the "cheeps!" echoed off the walls adding to the din.

I counted 53 birds. The packaging said 51. So I'm happy. So far, I haven't had any dead ones even though...well, that's a story for later on. 

Among the other things I did this morning was trying to keep up with the dishes, making some pie shells (those pies squeaked out of the oven literally as folks were walking out the door), throwing up a quick, short, blog post, sticking labels on honey and hot blueberry jam, packing the truck, straightening a few things in a few places, eating a quick snack to pack down my irritation (I get irritable when too hungry), and all around trying not to stroll around doing nothing and being in the way.

By the time we ate lunch (2:15 for the three at home), I was ready for it and my coffee afterwards. Daddy kindly washed the dishes after lunch while I straightened my computer area and took some stuff upstairs that really needed to go up. 

I tackled a load of laundry and the bathroom next...the bathroom needed it. While I was cleaning the floor, Sherry (our favorite hospice lady) came and gave Granddaddy his Friday bath. 

{Supper Break}

Ah...Lentils with fresh kraut mixed in is one of my favorite meals. :)

Anyway, back to the details of the day...I poked along and made some more pie shells (trying to stock up for the next two weeks--the last two Farmer's Markets). I was going to try to make enough for all five markets (tomorrow and the four the following two weeks), but I ran out of flour. Katherine made a bread while I was doing that too--we left less than a full cup of flour.

A little later, Mama called to inform us that she had sold both pies...so Daddy cut the pumpkin and I got it stuffed into the Conservo. Then I popped out to check on my chicks.

One was upside down in the water. I thought he was dead, so I reached in, picked him up and was going to head out and toss him into the cornfield. But...he wiggled! So, I held him under the heat lamp for a bit and he opened his eyes and then closed them again. 

Cupping my hands around him (his feathers were still quite warm from the heat lamp), I trundled myself up to the garage where Daddy was running some new piece of machinery he'd picked up earlier in the day. I had to yell at him a couple of times before he heard me over the noise. Anyway, we decided to try to revive the little guy; particularly after he made a little peep or two. I figured that was a good sign.

Daddy found a box and lined it with a piece of paper towel while I kept the chick warmly tucked in my hands. He was starting to squirm. 

You have to admit...he didn't look very good; I still expected him to die.

We placed him next to the still-cooking Conservo where he'd get the heat off of it.

I checked on him on and off for the next couple of hours, in between other things and each time he looked a little better, seemed a little more alert and peeped a little louder. I tried to get him to eat a little, but I don't think that was overly successful; I left a little tiny bit of feed in the box. The next time I looked at him, his face was practically in it, so I don't know as if he ate any of it or not. 

Eventually, I decided that he was hot enough that he probably needed some water. Now, I do know how to force a chick to drink, so I did. I put him back in his box and he stayed on his feet! And hollered...and hollered...and hollered.

I left him there a little longer before re-joining him to the rest of the flock. I hope he's still alive and healthier in the morning. 

Speaking of the rest of the flock, ain't they a fine bunch of feathers?

There is something wrong with the above picture...here it is, fall weather on us (the high today might have reached 60)...and I am running around BAREFOOT? (Besides which my leg looks cocked-eye due to my pants...)

To be quite honest, I started out in socks and boots, but I felt like said socks were sticking to the floor so when I cleaned the bathroom I took them off (we had some pears "leaking" in the mud room; that was the problem) and spent the rest of the day in my bare toes. The ground it both wet and chilly...

I got supper made (it was basically left-overs doctored up a little bit...turned out fine if I do say so myself) and finally got upstairs with the vacuum cleaner. I changed the litter in the cat box and got my room and my sisters rooms vacuumed. Thankfully, Runty didn't pull any of her door-climbing stunts this time. It really is very, very funny to see a black cat hanging sideways and rather bat-like off a chicken-wire screen door, but it's horrid on the hinges--which are already sprung--partly, I think from the wild careening trampoline-jumping stunts of said cats. 

Mama called before they got home to tell Daddy, who handed the phone to me, that Grandpa had called her--he needed tomorrow's pills and they needed a gallon of milk from the fridge in the barn (it's a little too difficult [uneven floor] for Grandma to get it). So I dashed out to take care of things.

Grandpa said something like: "Look, it's Whatcha-call-her. I called You-know."

I laughed, "You-know called The Other Guy and he gave me the phone."

Grandpa continued the play, "It must be a relay..."

Me: "Something like that..."

Anyway, it was funny and one of those special moments of me actually being able to have a come-back to one of Grandpa's funnies. :) He's too smart for me!

Since I've been remiss on the blogging front this week, how about a quick run-down on what I've been doing?

Does this work?

The above are only two of many outfits I have been sewing this week...

Yesterday, my Grandma's cousin Helen had a huge auction; basically an estate sale (she's moved into assisted living) and Mama, Daddy, Grandma, and Savannah went. They bought Helen's couch. It's rather comfortable actually.

Our old couch is now in the barn with black plastic toss over it....

It's now nearing 10 and I have to go take some more pumpkin pies out of the oven, so farewell for now!

P.S. MAMA SOLD A PAIR OF MY SOCKS!!!

As you may be aware both my elder sister and I have Lyme disease...so every three months or so, we make a trip to the Cincinnati area for a doctor's appointment. Thankfully, we had an uneventful (i.e. safe) trip both ways.

Dr. Ritche is pleased with our progress and for the most part so am I...even though some things seem to bother me more. But, in reality, that makes sense because the 'bugs' are being killed and rattled around. 

We both have more blood work to get done.  I will remember to drink a lot of water when I go to get blood drawn this time...

More interesting facts: a) I have an official blood-test diagnosis of "wheat allergy"; not that I really needed it. Getting drunk off the stuff is tell-tale enough for me! 

b) I have a mild peanut allergy. NO!! Well, yeah. Moderation, young lady, moderation. (To be honest, we have not been eating very much peanut butter lately anyway because the organic stuff is so expensive.)

c) I have a mild allergy to egg whites. You have got to be kidding me! I will just pretend I never heard of this. 

We had a great lunch at the Mexican restaurant we like to eat at when over there...the waiter was quite amused when we all ordered double-beans instead of rice! :D

Then we bounced on over to Jungle Jim's...and spent hours there shopping. I do not know what all we bought, but there are two items of extreme interest to me: First, the Linden honey (from Germany). We have Linden trees and I am fully intending on raising bees this next year, so I want to taste what honey from the "bee-tree" tastes like. 

Second....

NON-GMO GRITS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am soo excited! :) :) I love grits......

On the drive home, I managed to get all the way through the decrease part of the kilt hose I'm making...

Ah well, I need to get a move on. Daddy and I are planning on butchering the rest of the hens (ten) this morning.

Bye now!

You heard about yesterday morning's endeavor (and it's happy result)...but I didn't get around to tell you the rest of the story. :)

Sometime in the afternoon, I betook myself out to tackle the re-gaining of the brooder coop--because yes, we have another 50 birds on the way. The spiders (evil creatures!) had taken over and I, procrastinating Presbyterian that I am (a number of you will catch the "Virginia" reference there), I had never squared off with the messy bedding all over the ground in said brooder coop. I fully intended when I moved the chicks from the coop to the tractors to come back the next day with a rake and a shovel and clean up the damp, manure laden corn-cob chunk bedding. Well.....that was how long ago???

I took a scoop shovel, a hoe, and the potato fork and scraped the now-hardened and partly composted bedding off the top soil. I filled up a couple of five-gallon buckets with the stuff and hauled out to the compost heap (next to the compost bins). 

On top of that, I killed spiders...and more spiders. They were all over and in the galvanized water trough we use as a brooder. After killing spiders, I pulled the thing out of the coop and hosed it down until I was happy that it no longer had any spiders wriggling their nasty little legs on it and, more importantly for the soon to be arriving chicks, that the previous batch's dirt had been knocked out of it and washed away. 

I threw away a lovely stack of feed sacks--which would have been fine except that they were now damp--and who knows how many spiders had taken up residence within the dark, cozy recesses of the bags! (Upon further observation...I think Daddy removed them from the trash can...)

I put all the feed and water trays, the jars, and sundry other chick-related items into a five-gallon bucket, carried it up to the house, and filled it full of water. Said items are still soaking, but it is my full, resolute intention to go wash them as soon as I complete this blog post.

I thought I'd step around into the orchard and have a pear before I went in...and ended up with a collection of fallen, bruised, in some cases partially-insect-consumed pears--which I immediately set about "working". 

All in all, I would claim a productive day yesterday.

Today, not so much--but then again, I haven't exactly been "doing nothing"; it may just seem to an outside observer that I have been dawdling.

You see, I have been sitting in much the same position for a portion of the day working on one single project. I promised a friend of mine (who'll know who he is if he reads this) a pair of socks--more specifically, a pair of kilt hose. 

Well, like that good procrastinating Presby I mentioned earlier I have yet to purchase the wool for these kilt hose...however, Mama brought home five skeins of Paton's wool that she picked up at the Goodwill yesterday for a buck apiece (steal!) (Paton's is my favorite yarn to work with, the wool being nice and soft.) Two skeins were cream, one black, one deep purple, and one light gray. I was planning on at least starting a trial pair for myself first before making the gift pair...so this was perfect. My friend and I have nearly the same-sized legs/feet (in fact, only two of the measurements are different!), so I'm using the exact same pattern for both. There really is a good reason for me to make myself a trial sock first; it's not just because I'm selfish and I have been longing to make a pair of knee socks anyway.

You see, I designed the pattern...

And...I have never done that before.

Now, before I even had my friend's measurements, I thought I had this all figured out.

Then I got his measurements...and reworked my previous pattern (for me) to make it match up with his measurements better.

I believe I actually did that twice. Still with no yarn.

Well, when Mama brought home the afore praised yarn yesterday, I decided I'd start on a pair of those socks--for me--to work out the boogers. I figured, since I do not assume that two skeins will work (it takes three to make two pairs of normal socks), that I would make the cuffs, heels, and toes of black with the main "body" of the sock in cream. If necessary, I can even have miss-matched socks.

So....I sat down this morning, did a few last minutes calculations and reminder equations and started knitting. I was planning on a knit 6, purl 6 basket weave for the cuff pattern--but figured out on the first row that that wasn't going to work. Well 4 K, 4 P wasn't going to cut it either (I accidentally had two less stitches than I planned on, but didn't figure it quick enough--not that it mattered, as you will see); K 5, P 5, on the other hand did. 

After three rows, I really got to looking at it and decided that you could put that on one of those creatures that Hannibal led across the alps...

So...I ripped it all out and started over from square one.

I went back to the web-page I had learned how to make my pattern from (thankfully, I had had the presence of mind to bookmark it!) and re-read it even though I had written down all the important information previously. 

I decided that it I had better make a new gauge. You see, the gauge I was working from before I had used the other kind of yarn (I love this Wool is the brand, but I don't love it the way I do Patons) and, I think my size 4 needles--even though I'm using 3's. Yeah, smart...I know.

Well, the long and the short of that is that the difference was one single, measly stitch. But that made ALL the difference!

I reworked the equations again...and cast on the stitches.

Now, doesn't that look less elephant sized? 

I haven't managed to get around to going any further with the project because the AT&T guy came out to fix our internet (I think this is the third modem since we upgraded...) and so, naturally, things went down. I went outside to wash those chicken items previously alluded to in this post and as I was finishing that up, Mama asked me if I would haul down the Victorio and do a pile of tomatoes.

Well, sure! I always did kind of like that messy job, so I heaved to.

Now I need to go feed cats and chickens...and I wonder what we're supposed to be doing for supper?

Good-afternoon! (As it so happens to be already!)

Daddy and I spent the morning butchering the eight roosters that remained in one of the chicken tractors. Next time we will probably clean out the other one completely, four hens and all. There are ten hens left in the tractor we worked out of today. I don't know for sure, but I am inclined to keep them and see if they start laying decently.

Anyway, the dip-net sure makes catching those squawking birds a whole lot easier! I have already gotten fairly proficient with it. :)

We did things a little different than last time. Last time I scalded and Daddy ran the whizz-bang chicken plucker...then we both dressed the birds out. Today, Daddy scalded and ran the plucker while I dressed out the birds. Therefore, I dressed all of them, but one, which Daddy did when he got done scalding and plucking.

I still continue to be amazed at the size of these rascals!

I look forward to sinking my teeth into a hunk of that...

In my seemingly unproductive day (I'm having a bit of an off day. I'm wondering if it isn't because I started new "killers" earlier this week in addition to my allergies kicking in), which really wasn't totally unproductive, the first order of business was addressing myself to the task of assisting in the butchering operation on Daddy's to-do list.

We butchered five roosters. Daddy did buy a dip net, so the catching process was tons easier than it was the last time I was engaged in this particular activity. 

I caught them and shoved them into the cones (we need bigger ones! One rooster flipped himself out in his death throes) and Daddy did the "deed". 

I did the scalding and he ran the whizz-bang chicken plucker. It over heated after the fourth bird, so we started the pluck the fifth one by-hand...but the motor cooled down in time for us to finish him off with the plucker. It gets the little pin feathers out amazingly well. (No singeing required! Singeing stinks!)

Then we entered the dressing stage. I did three birds and Daddy did the other two. I'm still not quite sure how I managed to get three done in the time it took him to do two...particularly since he started first and his hands are stronger than mine...but that's how it worked out.

Turns out the birds all averaged between 5 to 6.5 pounds!! The drumsticks are the biggest I have ever seen (eaten!) on a yard-bird. We had fried chicken for lunch, left-overs for supper, and there is still some left to make a third meal off of! Big and tasty birds. :)

After lunch, I made a doll dress, then got five more cockades made. We were running quite low on them, so my dull-headed afternoon was not wasted. 

Perhaps I can still get something else useful done this evening...even though it is almost 9. 

Hmm...how about doing hand-work on doll dresses? :)

This is just a short post to tell you a funny little story from this morning....

I went out to feed the chickens (as usual) and after doing my usual squawking, clucking, talking-to-the-chickens routine while pouring their feed, I stepped into the brooding coop where I keep the food. 

I heard a rooster crow. 

It wasn't Katherine's rooster either...it was one of my 11-week old birds.

Stepping out of the coop and watching the chicken tractor I knew that crowing young rooster was, I threw back my head and crowed. (I'm kind of out of practice so it was rather non-professional sounding; no eavesdropping please! ;D) 

I waited a minute and then Katherine's rooster crowed...and then one of mine. It wasn't the one I thought it was going to be, and I still am not sure I saw correctly. 

Anyway, I tried crowing a couple more times, but the young one never made another peep after that--but I had gotten the old bird started out there with his hens...and he was still crowing when I came in! 

And yes, he sounds far better than I did!