This is what happens as soon as a tomato starts to ripen on the vine. I guess I'll try to hit a tin can with the .22, then, if I'm capable, I'll try to hit two roosters. Will I be able to kill anything? We'll see.
Laura doesn't get her fair share of the limelight. That may be why middle children turn out well adjusted, neglect being the key to a happy life. She's moving up to most important helper for the week, though. I hope we'll get some quality mother daughter time, one on one for a change.
Here are two different reactions to Becky's going away. Jodi is having Becky from Monday through Friday as a mother's helper in case she needs to rush to the hospital to be with her father. Then Becky comes home for the weekend, barring any catastrophic events. If needed, she'll go back again Monday next. Katie is bursting with happiness for her sister. No,wait, she's just bursting a water main.
What you see in Fern's bowl is tomatoes which were just starting to ripen. But they were cut off in the prime of life by free ranging chickens. So today we hunt down the miscreants who eat our garden. It's off to Azkabantam for them. I think we might have to get a net, since these are the wiliest of all our chickens.
We like to make the most of being free from suburbia. So we lined up five cans on five fence posts and went at it. At first, we thought things were going badly, but the .22 bullets were actually going through the cans dead center, without even moving the cans. What a fun weekend, sorry it's over. Because now I have to do my own darn farmwork.
Here's happy Wilbur awaiting the trip to Amherst. Fern wasn't on board with the whole idea of going to slaughter though. There was no way she was going up into that truck. Wilbur, on the other hand, couldn't wait. Then he ran down the chute into the holding pen when we got him there. I'm glad that he was happy his whole life. I'm also a little bit glad, and ten pounds lighter from sweating, trying to get her in the truck, that Fern was spared. If I was the boss, she'd get bred to some cool boar for piglets. Fortunately, I'm not the boss 'round here, so we might not be overrun with pigs after all.
Brutha Joe got hisself some Amish treats while he's down here in the country. While he was at the variety store, the Amish lady (the same one who said last year that he's not fat, he's "big and strong") told him he looks like he lost a lot of weight since last November. Teehee.
For the first year in their long history, the butcher may not do hogs this summer. Sure, why not? Because hogs weighing a ton each will taste great next fall.
I got a disturbing email last week that a lady from the area is on life support following a pig attack. Allegedly, she was in the pen, removing a dead piglet, when the pigs attacked her, causing life threatening injuries. Gulp. All I wanted was yummy, humanely treated pork. Now I'm worried about Hogzilla eating us.
And the reason for our trip up north... Da Cohens! From California originally, they did a short stint in Leesburg, which is how we met them. When we heard they were coming to Ashburn, we rushed north to swim for free at their hotel. Oops, I mean visit with them. Betsy looks as young as ever. But not so Alex and Sophie. We had a blast with them, although we missed Greggggg and Olivia. Laura wishes we had taken some photos of the pool at the hotel, where we swam and had a great time. Laura loves to look at pools.
Here's something I can hardly believe people live through. The girls and I went to Northern Virginia for a few days. We saw lots of friends (pictures to follow in the next post) and had a fantastic time. It's a different world, though. These are totally different roads. The top is Warreton, the bottom is Leesburg, heading to Purcellville.
So we're enjoying the ride to Lynchburg in the clean and shiny van. When... it makes a funny noise, then hesitates. Danny was in the City of Staunton, two hours away, without cell phone service. I was with the girls, in record high temps, with no phone, no wallet (although I had stuck my credit card in my back pocket), and no water. All that was in my other van. I turned around to head back toward the mechanic's, and had some luck. I thought I had simply lost overdrive, which would mean a new tranny at some point, but at least I could still drive it locally. On the way down Bull Hill, the instruments went nuts, showing me going 120 mph. At this point I was worried, but we prayed for safety and convenience in a place to break down in. I got right to the mechanic's parking lot and she died. The good news is I just needed a new battery, or, "battry" as my mechanic says. The bad news is when he test drove it, the alternator broke. The good news is the alternator is under warranty. I made it back home, as the mechanic predicted, and now we're on our way to take it back to the mechanic's, with me following Dan. Was your day better than mine? I think this calls for either taking up smoking, or cobbler at the Abilene Junction.
Well, someone found a use for the part of the tree that got killed by lightning! Every morning we're regaled by the mockingbird's routine. He starts with a cardinal, moving through crow, meadowlark, tree frog (!), and then birds I don't recognize, but who have fancy calls nonetheless. I've gotten so used to him and his antics, that I don't know how I ever enjoyed coffee on the porch without him.