Tag: Welcome To The Zoo

The object of his affection

It was bought for Rudy…
the pisspot, the only dog who gets locked in a crate in this house
because he marks EVERYTHING whenever you’re not around.
(I’ve been told it’s a dachsund thing)
Rudy loves the soft squeeky toys made of that pliable but
not easily broken rubber stuff.
The cupcake was his new treasure.
Frasier covets the cupcake.
When Rudy is not in his crate, Frasier immediately sees that as an opportunity
to go steal the cupcake.
I put it on top of the mantle so he can’t take it.
(and rip it up)
If the door is closed.. he tries to pull the blanket through the crate
to get to the cupcake.
He does this even when Rudy is IN the crate.
It’s an obsession.
Sometimes when I’m not looking,  he succeeds.
…..Houston… we have a problem.

  And don’t ya think I’ve already thought to buy three more @%#$! cupcakes?…
and I can’t find a one.  Not a one.

Good morning!

..and it is a glorious one here in New England.
I plan to enjoy it to the fullest…
a walk with one of the dogs in the State forest
to kick start my fitness project (that would be myself)
and later some pumpkin muffin baking with
The light was so beautiful as the mist burned off this morning
that once horses and chickens were fed I ran inside to grab my camera
  to capture some of the awesome glow.

The horses are still munching on crab apples off the old apple tree in their pasture…
and I take the extras out daily, fighting off the bees…
as we don’t want them to have too many.

New chicks and old are getting along fine…
Notice my year-olds look like a hot mess, being smack in the middle of their first “molt”.

This is Dorothy, currently outside the coop as punishment
this morning for mercilessly picking on the newbies.
I’d had enough of that crap and threw her featherless butt out for the morning.
She’s not quite sure what happened… I’m hoping it stirs up the pecking order some.

This look means:
Mom.. I ripped my new sheet already..and it’s been over a week.
Please get me a new one, my nails keep getting caught in the rip.
Love you lots though, really, BEN.

Have a great weekend, all – we’ve made a pact here at This Old House.  
WE… aren’t going to talk politics.
Ever again.
ever.

Fall rolls in

 
       The light has changed, a golden slant, earlier in the evening now.    Woodburning smoke curls through the air and in through open windows.  Heavenly, the scent.    Leaves crunch under foot as I make my way to the barn  and coop for early morning feeding.   Sleep comes easier on these cool early autumn nights.   The Mr. insists on an open window as I heap on another blanket.     The stew and soup recipes come to the top of the pile and maple cream cookies fill the jar.    We have yet to stack wood outside the kitchen door but I eagerly await the first fire in the fireplace.    Fall has indeed come to This Old House.    How does the season announce itself in your neck o’the woods?

Anniversary flowers!


Randomocity

   Did I just make that word up?
Did you watch that ABANDONED program  about the vacant Johnsonville
that I heralded last night?
It wasn’t all the great. They didn’t highlight half of the village’s appeal,
nor did they discuss much of the history of that oddly wonderful vacant village.
If you did see it, the fellow that was haggling over the prices of “stuff”
with the shows host… was the guy who I bumped into when I went
trespassing on the property to take pictures. 
 He was reluctant,but then allowed a few shots…keeping an eye on my whereabouts.
That school house that was purchased on the show still stands..
so if they really bought it for the reported $5,000., they haven’t taken it yet.   
The show was mostly about junk hunting, which  disappointed me. 
Frasier wasn’t impressed either. 
This is a bouquet I picked from the backyard gardens before the storms the other night.
Even though these flowers are all out there for everyone to see…
ALL SUMMER LONG…
the husband and child  thought they were store bought,
shocked that they came from our own yard.
For a minute I think they didn’t believe it.
Now why would that be shocking?
Every morning I’m up at 5:30 am… the dogs go out,
then the dogs come in to be fed. 
The manchild is awoken, much to his chagrin,
and then I head up to the barn and coop  to feed..
while she takes him for a walk..
…in rainboots.
Keeps the ticks off in the tall grass, didn’t ya know.
***
Warning:  If you’re easily offended, look away now.
Finally, a few words about politics and living in a house divided. 
It ain’t easy.
Enough said.

What says HOME to you?…

    I’ve been dreaming of “home” since I was a very young girl.  Many years ago we would walk with  my grandmother after Sunday night dinner and admire the gardens, the decor, peer in the windows of other peoples spaces, collecting ideas.   
   My vision of what I had hoped I might be able to call home some day has not changed much over the years.  I grew up in a borough of the city, but I knew that was not my destination.  While many of my friends were excited about the hustle and bustle of the concrete jungle just across the bridge, I longed for country roads and wide open spaces.  I wanted land and a barn for my -someday- horses, a yard for my -someday- dogs to roam, a house with big windows to let in lots of natural light (my favorite kind) with big old trees standing guard. Plenty of space for my -someday- children to play and entertain friends, too.   I would decorate this home with lots of candles and ivory linen overstuffed couches. There would be strands of beads to walk through in the doorways… do you remember those?  I’d become a good cook and there would always be a candy dish full of something sugary.
  I did outgrow those hippie beads, and the ivory linen couches will never be practical with dogs and kids… but we were able to pull the rest of it off and for that… every day… I am grateful. 
  Below are a few pictures here at this old house.. things that make this place “home”.  In the comments section below, list five things in your surroundings that make it home to you.  Family is a given.  If you’re really feeling chatty, tell us how your childhood vision of your someday home compares to what you have created over the years.  I’m not talking about material things or stature, but the things that really make a house a home to you. 

Dads Swedish Meatballs
(these are awesome)
Recipe found HERE.

It’s a farm life

Although by a real farmers standards…
a Hobby Farm.
 That’s OK by me… even Hobby farms are a lot of work.  
Walking around the farm with my camera this weekend..
I took note of a few things.
This is what Basil looks like when you’ve let it flower and go to seed.
The aroma is heavenly, but the remaining crop spent.
We’ve given up the garden for the year, harvesting the last of the peppers
…and tomatoes!  Even a barren waste land of tomato plants will still
produce a few gems if left to their own devices.
Ok, it’s not a gem. But look at the color!

Have the leaves begun to turn in your neck of the woods?
We have the occasional tree beginning to color and shed
The grass is still growing.. amazing consider the hot dustbowl this summer produced.
25 year old Max filled out nicely because of it.
I’m hoping to keep the weight on him through the winter.
The manchild still mows regularly, and still refuses to let me take a decent picture.
This was a hasty retreat as he spied the camera.

The original hens and new hens still  choose to stay separate
except for when I close them in the coop at night.
The old girls, taking a  dust bath before the rains yesterday
under their favorite pine tree, which we have trimmed,
much to their chagrin.
The new girls barely venture out into the coop yard.
Henrietta
Raven and Snow
Andie
I am now fully aware of how the terms
“Hen Pecked”
“Pecking Order”
and..
“Don’t be a Chicken”..
came to be. 
The garden still blooms… 
If you plant nothing else next year,
sow some Zinnia seeds.
They are the flower that just keeps giving and giving…
And don’t be afraid of roses..
there are many hardy varieties out there.

I hope you’re enjoying the weekend
in whatever way brings you happiness.
A lesson I think I’ve finally absorbed..
When someone’s giving you grief in one way or another
and it befuddles you because you know you don’t deserve
or understand  it … instead of letting it gnaw at you and fester..
do yourself a favor and realize ... that 99 percent of that kind of behavior..
has nothing whatsoever to do with you. 
And then let it go.  

The Girls have arrived!

A few days ago I got a call from the post office…
My chickens had arrived and were making a racket!
Well, you would be too if you had been cramped into these boxes
with a “cell mate” for 24 hours.
I won’t buy pullets through the mail again,
although they are fine now and where they came from is a good farm.
I just don’t like the method.
Two in each.

These two are Cochins.. they have feathers on their feet!
Kinda looks like they’re wearing bellbottoms.

The black one semi-hidden is an Americauna (Ameraucana?)
They lay blue eggs…

And this sweet little hen is an Andalusian..

So far my original remaining five hens stay mostly outside the coop
and the new ones stay inside.
Not sure why the standoff, but eventually they’ll mingle more.
I won’t let the newbies free range until they fully understand
where home is.

Have I told you lately how much I love my chickens?

A whisp of Blue on Saturday morning…

  It’s a grey mist kinda day so far… and on my way up the driveway with a gator full of horse and chicken manure I came across an injured bluebird.   Sad to see it… knew there was nothing I could do for the fella… so I picked him up and put him in a nearby bluebird house.

Have I told you lately how much I love this dog?
So does the very macho teenager of the house.

I’ll spend some time today riding Opie…
and clipping those whiskers, apparently…
…While K gets ready for tomorrows horse show, the last of the season with Beemer.
This is not Beemer..
We are now at the point in the road where Beemer will not
be able to take Kristen to the next level in her riding skills..
He will continue his training with his owner.  
The dilemna is finding the right horse and situation, AFFORDABLY…
to get her where she wants to go.
Coop News! 
I finally gave up on trying to find someone in Connecticut who would sell me
four pullet hens.. not chicks, which I can get in 100 places.
I don’t have the coop space to separately raise chicks, keeping them safe from
getting picked on or killed by my adult hens.
Sooo.. I found a woman in NY state that will ship four six month olds to me
as soon as the heat dies down and they can tolerate transit.. Parcel Post!
I’ve got two cochins, an Ameraucana (sp??)  and an Andalusian coming…
This is sort of what the flock will look like,
although chickens vary.. especially the Ameraucanas….
The cochins have feathery feet!

I’ll let you know when they arrive…
Have a great weekend, all  –

Part of my day job….

…is picking stuff. 
And getting dirty doing it.
A girl could have it worse.
 While we’ve lived on small horse farms for all of our married years..
The Man didn’t get into big time vegetable gardening until a few years ago.
I have to say, I’m grateful.  It’s alot of work,
but the rewards we reap are well worth it.
It’s a great feeling to know where your food’s coming from,
and that it’s not loaded with chemical crap. 

If all you’ve got is a deck off a condominium or apartment,
I recommend you atleast put a few pots out there
and grow just a wee bit of your own produce..
Tomatoes, herbs  and even cukes do well this way!
There are few things more gratifying
then sitting down to a  homegrown salad,  cobbler or jam.

Frasier couldn’t care less.
He’s got more important things on his mind…
Like –  don’t nobody mess with my angrybird

….and  Mamma won’t let me get that bunny!

I feed that baby bunny every day.. carrots, blackberries.
He no longer runs away when I open the door to toss the berries out to him.
Is this a bad thing?
I do love this old house.