little chickens

Our chicks are not yellow fuzzy, down-covered balls anymore, but are skittish, gawky birds with cinnamon colored feathers coming in and huge feet. After buying a full sized galvanized waterer and feeder, I took them out of the box brooder and let them out in the coop, blocking off the doorway with a board so they won't fall out when someone opens the door. Will and I made a small outside enclosure for them and let them explore the great wide world for a few hours each day. However, they are skinnier than I anticipated and can escape through the crack between the stake and the coop wall, as well as over the top of the 3 foot high fence, so my design needs to be improved significantly. 

I am finding the birds to be soothing, they make good company when I need to escape from the barnyard atmosphere of my house with 6 children bickering and cackling constantly. The chickens are also amusing to watch, I gave them a scoop of cottage cheese (part of our winnings at the Garelick Milk Run) and after a short period of hesitation, they began to peck and run off with curds to the corners of the coop to gulp down. They stepped in the white mound, pooped in it, and when I came back in 30 minutes, the paper plate was completely bare. The chicks startle easily, instinct against predators means that any noise, be it the door opening, a scrape of the stool against the floor, or a loud burp, sends the creatures into a deep freeze, not moving or making a sound for 10 seconds or so when one bird gets tired of standing at attention and goes back to the regular business of eating, drinking, pooping, and scratching in the litter.

Originally I wanted to name all the birds after flowers, but since they all look exactly alike, I think I'll just call them all Buttercup and be done with it. 

I guess this is living in Maine

It is the day after Memorial Day and not only did we have to wear coats to Mass on Sunday, sweatshirts outside on Monday (luckily it finally stopped raining), we woke up to see frost coating the grass this morning. The corn and tomatoes still have to be planted so I didn't lose anything, but it is disconcerting, knowing how short the summer season is here. 

Our chicks are doing well, their little wing feathers are growing and they all seem to be happy and content little birds. We have tried to give them a few little things to supplement their crumble feed and to entertain them, but so far the only thing they really enjoy are worms. Since it was raining for 3 days straight, it was easy to walk along the driveway with a bucket and scoop up worms who attempted to escape the soggy soil. They were dropped one at a time into the brooder, where one chick would pick it up and run around and around with the worm dangling from her beak. Other chicks would join in the chase, tugging and stretching the helpless worm in an attempt to snatch it for herself. Finally, the creature would be pulled into smaller chunks and swallowed. Out of all the children, Timmy thought this the most hysterical and could have sat there for an hour watching the chick's antics. I hope this experience does not transform my most gentle child into a bloodthirsty maniac, but I doubt it. It wasn't as if he fed them worm after worm after worm, I think 8 was the limit for the entire day after I warned him that too many would make the baby birds sick to their tummies.      

we're real farmers now

Yesterday, while a friend brought the big kids home from school and Charlie was at his piano lesson, the two little kids and I drove up to Holden. The feed store had called an hour before to say, "The chicks are here! Do you want 5 extras?" Our 17 new baby Golden Buffs were put in little boxes for their transport home, each child carrying one carefully by the handle and base as we walked across the wet field. We had the chicken coop placed on the far side of the garden because that was the most level spot and wouldn't be upwind from the house, but it is a long trek, as I'm finding out. We lined the box with paper towels and shavings, filled their waterer and feeder and gently placed each bird in their new brooder under the warm light. 

Today's weather is a repeat of Friday: cold, windy, and rainy- more reminiscent of late March than the cusp of June. However, the children didn't seem to mind as they pulled on rubber boots again and again to run out and see the chicks every hour. So far Julia Ellen has been good, but a little demanding that she get to hold the baby birds. I will hold the door key to their coop in reserve if she disobeys and goes out to "visit" without me. As I told the little ones, the chicks are only 1, and now 2 days old and are very delicate. 

I too, am very excited about our new acquisitions and was worried last night if they were too warm or too cold and what I would find this morning when I went to change the bedding and water. But my fears were relieved, when at 5:15am, they were all cheeping and busy eating and drinking. Who knows what we are going to do with the eggs from 17 laying hens, but since I won't have to deal with that for months and months, I won't fret about it now. 

time keeps on ticking

One of the things that I recall every time I feel a little guilty about not blogging often is that since the big kids have started going away to school, 2 hours of every day is now spent in the car. That is 2 hours I previously spent quilting, reading, blogging, cleaning, and playing with the kids. Every day now is as regimented as a new Army recruit: wake up, get ready, get kids ready, drive to school, come home, homeschool the boys, run, shower, get big kids from school, ferry some kid to piano, make dinner, bathe little kids, read aloud, say prayers, and finally put the kids to bed. 

So, what has our family been doing for the past few weeks? Well, Timmy, Charlie, and I did the Flattop race. The boys did great in the mile (Charlie 7 min, Timmy 8 min) and I did terrible in the 5K. The weightlifting I had been doing to improve my strength left my muscles so worn out, despite a 4 day break, that I could only barely manage to stay on my feet. Yesterday I did run the Bridge the Gap 10 mile race and did quite well: 1hr 20 min. I ran the first 8 miles with my friend Lisa at a 8:30 pace and felt as fresh ending it as I did starting. I've been going out way too fast and crashing at mile 2, so this was a good learning experience. It was much more fun to pass people, especially on the hills, than to get passed while gasping for breath. 

I've been quilting up a storm since I finished all my obligation projects: a tshirt quilt for an online friend and a brown bag exchange in our guild. I applied to submit this quilt in the state quilt show for judging and have until the middle of June to get it finished. After several weeks, I've now finished all the colored strips and have to connect it all with white sashing next. I'm not really looking forward to working with 34 floppy strips, all 2" wide, but now I have to get it done, and do it well, since I don't want to look foolish next to all the really talented quilters in our state. 

Will was accepted to the fancy high school so I can release the breath I was holding for several weeks. Our other option was to bring Will home for 9th grade and send Charlie to Catholic school a year earlier than anticipated. Now it is unlikely that I will be spending the next year in prison for killing my child because Will and I are at odds so often these days and the little boys will have each other to be best friends with for another year. I didn't think I could go back to more than 3 kids at home during the day, Timmy has made such progress this year without the drama of trying to get the older ones to do their work. I've actually had, despite the loss of 2 hours a day, more time this year to work with him on his studies. 

Julia Ellen is now officially potty trained, or housebroken as my Grandmother calls it. I am happily doling out m&ms as reward for not having to daily wipe a yucky bottom for the first time in 15 years. 

What is next? More quilting, more races, the arrival of our first batch of Buff Orpington chicks in a few weeks, and planting my garden. Spring is late in arriving to northern Maine, the ground is still frozen 4 inches down and there are still patches of snow here and there, but today there is a warmth in the air that hasn't been there before and the snowdrops in front of the library were blooming this morning. Happy Spring!          

all in one house

Tim finished up his last day of work down in the southern part of the state and starts his new job next week. So, for the first time in a decade all our family is residing in one location all year. No more deployments, no more admitting "summer people" status, no more waving goodbyes on Sunday afternoon. I can't recall all the times over the past 10 years when I thought I packed an item and realized too late that it was 1000 miles away in a drawer, or a piece of music for piano lessons was left behind, or I couldn't remember if I had enough pillowcases and needed to pack more. This morning was the first nippy day of the season, chilly enough that I had to pull out a wool blanket to cover myself at 2am. 

My box room with its neatly organized bins for kid's clothes was raided for Julia Ellen's fall wardrobe instead of the usual September scramble as I forgot to pack enough larger warm clothes for the smallest child. She is now adequately prepared with 5 pairs of footed pjs, long pants, and a half a dozen turtlenecks. It is so comfortable feeling that if I need an item it is somewhere in this house and all I have to do is unpack the rest of the boxes to find it.   

our last packout

Yesterday, the same day a year ago we packed out to come to Maine, the movers arrived in a big orange truck to box up and wrap in blankets all our possessions. So far the house hasn't sold, despite the picture-perfect views of the mountains and brand new granite countertops, we haven't even had a showing in over a month. But it is clean and free from everything we own now except for a few camping items and Tim's coffee pot. He has another few days of work this week and then the last week of August before he starts his new job. For 12 years I have been alone during most of the summer, shlepping kids to camp and lessons, making them clean and find stray library books, getting them ready for Mass and buying doughnuts afterwards for good behavior. And, yes I organized the packout yesterday alone as well, arriving the evening before, making sure everything went as smoothly as possible and running up to Food City for some lunch for both my crew and the movers since my husband has been living off of Stouffers frozen dinners, coffee, and ice cream. 

But now we are back at the farm and once more I need to get into high organizational mode for they will arrive tomorrow to unload the truck and I have to have this place ready. Today I have to disassemble one set of bunkbeds and pray that they will fit back-to-back with their matching bunkbed in the boy's room. Timmy is too old for a toddler bed anymore and he has been switching between sleeping on a mattress on the floor and bunking with his brother. The girls get another set of bunkbeds with drawers underneath for Julia Ellen's clothes, space is more of a premium in their room with all the dolls, stuffed animals, and such that they accumulate. The double bed in the apartment has to be taken down to the garage to make room for the queen bed from the Auburn house. All the excess beds, dressers, and kitchen items we have accumulated over the years living in two places needs to be taken to the trash and treasure building at the dump. 

Did I mention that at least some of the unpacking must be accomplished by next Thursday when Tim's sister and her husband come for a visit?  I'm not going to panic or stress out, for this is our 10th and last packout in the last 16 years of marriage and I have all the time in the world to rearrange our stuff. 

fly away little birdies

A week or two ago the little boys pointed out a bird's nest on our farm. A barn swallow mama took advantage of the fact that one of the very last things to finish on our house is the porch ceiling and flew under the eaves to raise her young in our garage. 

We have been watching the baby's growth via binoculars, which is interesting, but Tim was grossed out by the sheer volume of bird poop 5 birds make on our garage floor. He scrubbed it out with the hose, but after only 24 hours the floor was a mess again. 

The only solutions were to take down the nest, killing the babies, or just wait it out until they learn to fly and leave the nest. Since he is such a softy the birds stayed and will likely be gone before the ceiling is installed in about 2 weeks, blocking their egress. 

The other critter problem didn't end well. When I went over to the garage apartment last week to take some boxes upstairs I found water dripping from the second floor. Turns out after 2 trips from the plumber and 1 from the builder than we had mice living between the floors during the winter and they had eaten a hole in the hot water line. The pipes and the drywall will be replaced soon, but something permanent will have to be done about invading critters. It is almost humorous to be discussing how best to discourage/kill the mice in our buildings at the same time we tempt Butter and Cream, Mary's pet mice, with special treats for their enjoyment. 

Looking at aerial photos from the early 1900's and today it is worth noting that 100 years ago 85% of our area was cleared for farms and today only 15% is still open space.  Between our little animal control issues and trying to keep the edges of the fields free of tree seedlings, I understand the old farmers who say that living in the country is a battle to keep what we have created from turning back to its natural state.  

for better or worse

Tim has accepted a job offer that will allow us to live on our farm full time. It will be a long commute for him and I will be having to set the alarm clock for the first time in many years to get 3 children to Catholic school, but I think for the long-term interest of our family it is the best thing to do. This was a very difficult decision, leaving a job that Tim really enjoyed after only 1 year, leaving behind the only opportunity to attend the Traditional Latin Mass, leaving a vibrant Scout program, and leaving a house we only bought last summer. But once the guilt begins to fade a bit I think we will be able to look forward with optimism about the future. For so many years we have been living here for 2 years, there for 1 year, never in any place long enough to make lasting ties. For our friends and relatives this seems to be the moment to pick up the Sharpie marker and write our information permanently in your address book, no more of this writing lightly in pencil stuff because you know it will just be erased and changed shortly. I love our farm, our piece of Maine and I think and pray that we will finally enjoy settling in and making our house our permanent home. 

packing...yet again

Hopefully, hopefully, this might be the last time I have to sort and pack the books we will use next school year before we have finished the current one, and do the same for clothes we will wear in the cool fall weather while currently it is 85F. I won't say anything more than that, since I don't want to jinx it, but currently I am organizing things and starting to stack up boxes throughout the house.
The children and I leave for Maine in about a month, ready to leave suburbia and get to the farm. The little boys are asking twice a day now, "How many days until we leave for Maine?" They are looking forward to riding up and down the driveway, making bike jumps out of scrap lumber, climbing up to the treehouse in the big oak, and helping Mommy gather rocks from the garden beds after Tim tills them with the tractor. I am looking forward to seeing my 99% completed home and am dreaming of landscape designs, "How far out should I plant that perfect specimen cut-leaf Japanese maple on the corner of the front flower bed?"

But while we are looking forward to lazy summer days of sitting on Adirondack chairs and sipping lemonade, we must focus and wrap up our current life here. The final piano recital is tonight, and guild competition is this week, ballet pictures and recitals are next month, and Will is being confirmed toward the end of May. In between all the activities and intensive schooling will be the on-going list making and taping up of boxes all directed toward rooms that barely had the paint dry the last time I saw them.

house progress

On Sunday afternoon as I was mowing the grass and the kids were all outside playing, a strange car pulled into the driveway. The girls rode their bikes up to see who it was and a man said, "You have such a pretty place here that I wanted to take a picture." I have to say that I agree, but it seems a little strange to stop at someone's farm, especially when the house isn't finished yet.

The inside painting has been progressing along. We changed the color in the foyer from lemon meringue, which turned out to be waaaay too bright (the juxtaposition of the deep green and the yellow made me want to start singing the College of William and Mary fight song, since those are their colors) so I decided play it safe and use all historic colors for the first floor and went with a lighter buff color. The master bedroom is a deep brown/grey which looks very rich, while the schoolroom in the basement is a bright green that pulls your eye right out the windows to the grassy field. Next to be painted are the children's rooms in Honolulu blue and amethyst mist and the music room in a delft blue. It will be so lovely to live in a house where I picked the colors rather than living in rentals where someone with no sense of style decided that bubblegum pink is a good color choice.   

agonizing about color choices

I have been ripping out photo spreads out of Better Homes and Gardens, scouring home decorating books from the library, studying the Benjamin Moore paint cards intently, and painting scrap pieces of drywall in anticipation of this week.

When we first arrived in Maine back in June the interior of the house was framed, but since then we have slowly seen the drywall crew install, sand, and prime the walls, watched the front porch become a reality, and marvel at the engineering involved in installing our new furnaces (to combat Maine winters we have decided on both a wood boiler for cold days and a propane boiler for shoulder season when the temps get above 30F. This from a southern girl who didn't know that it could get much colder than 30F!).

Having mostly lived in rental housing, I have never gotten to chose colors for a home, put shelves on the kid's bedroom walls for all their dolls and trophies, or have enough wall space in the schoolroom for maps AND a chalkboard. And, since Tim hates any change to his surroundings, once the walls are painted and the furniture placed they will be there for the next 30 years, I better choose well the first go-around. 

I have narrowed my colors to 12, repeating some in several rooms (for example the boy's bath, the music room, and the basement bath are all light blue). The builder bought the first two colors and put the first coat on today, turning the house from a white shell to a preview of what it will look like in less than 2 years with all our furniture placed inside. I'll post some of the rooms with color over the next several weeks, not only to share with friends, but also with my husband, who has left the selection completely up to me. For some reason I can post pictures here with not too much trouble, but attaching pictures to email is an impossibility using dial-up.

Here is the living room/kitchen and front hall (the bottom portion of the walls will be wainscoting in glossy white to match the trim and windows):