I budget all of our household expenses and we do a pretty good job at sticking to it as there’s not much room for error at the moment. That being said, in the event that I fill a wedding cake order or something of the sort that gives us some unexpected income I usually tuck it away for an emergency or make an extra payment on a loan; something responsible. But every once in a while I blow it on a “want” rather than a “need” and that’s exactly what I just did. I like to think of this purchase as an investment though, it will contribute financially (hopefully) as well as in the kitchen.
“So this is the break and that’s the clutch or no?”
That’s when my dad’s eyes got big, Mike shook his head and they backed up the instructions. The last time I drove a tractor was the fall of 2006 after my grandpa passed away. (rough guess) Grandpa had quite the collection of tractors and to keep them all in working order the family would gather at the farm, everyone hopped on a tractor and drove for a while. A tractor parade of sorts around the farm yard and fields. So it’s been a long time.
We recently attended the wedding of a dear friend. Okay, so we missed most of the ceremony coming from out of town and with kids, but we caught the vows and isle exit. It was a beautiful day for an outdoor wedding and the reception hall was just as lovely. Everyone filed in to the hall to enjoy visiting during a cocktail hour preceding the supper as most wedding celebrations go.
The head table was seated and the guests were called to their tables as the meal was about to be served. It wasn’t too long after that some idiot had to start the glass clinking. Yes, I called the unknown party an idiot. The glass clinking tradition is one of my top three pet peeves.
All the due dates had past and I was thoroughly annoyed that baby was late as well as being incredibly uncomfortable. By chance the midwives were in town and said they would stop up and check on baby and I. Molly offered some herbs that were known to get labor going quickly. It didn’t take me long to decide that “yes, I would love to give them a try.” Black and blue cohash thinned down with some others. With the herbs came a strict warning that I was to let them know if anything happened because they are super potent and work quickly and I work quickly anyways as we found out with the Little Miss.
When asked when I’m due my usual response is “sometime between now and the county fair.” This is sometimes taken as sarcasm, unfortunately I’m serious. This time around I was given four due dates depending on who I talked to. An average “safe delivery” time can be two weeks before or after the due date, which means I have/had about eight weeks of “any day now”. So the no “real” due date answer seems to shock and/or annoy the person asking when. Hmm. How about Mama? Think about how annoying it is to politely answer that for eight weeks or longer?! Not to mention the weeks of comments of “how big you’re getting!” (that’s not a compliment no matter how you try.) The only acceptable thing to say about a pregnant ladies size is “you look great!” FYI.
All that complaining aside, life doesn’t stop because of it. I still mow the lawn each week and do what I can to help with yard work, gardening and so on. It takes a lot longer to get anything done, but it does get done. In an attempt to get this baby out I thought I’d give “nesting” a try. Pretty sure I didn’t do much for nesting with the other two. I didn’t really have time, nor did I slow down as much as I have this time. I washed the baby clothes the last time I had everything dug out of the kid’s closet to put away the out grown and get the next box of hand-me-downs. The house is picked up… I wouldn’t say clean, but picked up. Wash the floors during nap and by the next snack time they’re sticky.
Nesting it is. It was worth a try anyways.
The ducks really only need enough water to dunk their heads but they make such a mess splashing and end up wasting all their drinking water doing so. I had put a rubber feed dish in the run to give them something a little more to splash in. It worked… kinda. They emptied that and the drinking water. The days are warming up considerably and if I want this year’s chicks (who live with the ducks right now) to have water the ducks needed something more again. I think.
When they were in the house we had them in a small kiddie pool. The kids loved it. It was fun but it didn’t take long for them to outgrow the space and make the house smell like a chicken coop. It was time for them to move out. After the flock was in the coop the pool went outside to be stored until the next batch of chicks would grace the kitchen.
Well, my “nesting mother duck” came out and those ducks needed a pond of sorts. I dug out the pool, hauled it to the outside run and scrubbed it out quite nicely… I’m not sure why. It stayed clean about as long as a freshly washed kitchen floor. A short piece of fence post scrap was set by the edge in case someone needed a step in and I began filling the “pond”. While I was watching my handy work fill, Mike brought over the four-wheeler and wagon so I could get the coop cleaned too. I’m not sure what he thought when he saw my project but he didn’t object at least.
“I’m going to go up to Erica Lane and meet Uncle Greg in a bit. I’ll be back in after while.” Mike headed out of the run. By that time I had just about finished cleaning the mud out of the waterer. As I went to leave the pen and shut off the water I had a little bit of an issue… He locked me in.
The hook and eye lock on the outside was too low for me to reach over and unhook. I’d like to think I could still fit through the turkey door in the other pen but once again that wouldn’t do much good because their door was closed with a hook and eye inside the feed room. The idea of trying to climb over the fence…well even I knew that wasn’t going to happen today. The landing might have knocked the baby loose which would’ve been helpful I guess. Luck was on my side this time. I remembered I had my phone with me because I didn’t want to miss my Uncle’s call.
“Hi. I promise I won’t leave the yard if you let me out of the duck pen!”
“Please? You locked me in when you left.”
(Short silence. Then laughter.) “I’ll be right over.”
Only on our farm would mama get locked in the duck pen on the 4th of July.
Once allowed out, I got the whole coop cleaned quite nicely. The ducks were swimming in the new pond. The Ladies were happy with their fresh bedding and watermelon rinds. The nesting boxes are all cleaned and ready for fresh eggs. Baby’s still not here… So much for the “nesting” theory.