Bad Habits

Everyone has bad habits of one sort or another.  It's usually not a serious matter if your worst habit is biting your nails or squeezing the toothpaste tube in the middle.  But when you have bad habits in your caring for your animals the results can be disastrous.  Thankfully, ours have only been surprising and silly.  For example, we (alright, it's me!  I confess!) had gotten in the habit of just pushing the door to the rabbit's pen closed and not shutting the bolt.  This had never been an issue until we got the goats.  The goats are curious and pushed on the rabbits gate.  Unfortunately they did this when we were out, and we came home to find the rabbits hippity hopping about the backyard.  Twice.  

See, that's the thing about bad habits.  Even when you see that it's a bad habit it's hard to stop it.  But I swear, I will always bolt the rabbits pen from now on. Pinky promise with chocolate sprinkles on top.

Note To Self

                          
                            Friday night at 10:30 PM is a bad time to start making bread

That was the last note to myself that I wrote.  So, tonight, trying to make good decisions, as soon as dinner was off the table I started proofing yeast.  It was 6:58 PM.  I set the timer for 10 minutes.  An hour later I checked on the yeast and it was good.  So, I added the flour and salt and two duck eggs and butter and lots of love and elbow grease.  I put it in to rise.  I set the time for an hour and this time exactly an hour later I checked on it and it was good.  Craig had the honors of punching the dough. (New Note to Self:  Hint to Craig that he does not have to punch the dough so hard that he hurts his fist.)  At 9:24 the two loaf pans went back in for the second rise.  I hope that everything goes according to plan and the bread is done by 11 PM.  If not, I see yet another Note to Self in my future. 

Goats 2, Chickens 0

If what is happening in my barnyard could be compared to a competition, the score would read Goats: 2, Chickens: 0. 

The Goats took over the entire chicken house yesterday when it rained.  The Chickens huddled under a tree, getting drenched.  Goats:  1. 

The Goats very happily went to bed on their side of the house tonight.  Three chickens tried to roost anywhere but inside the house:  One on the gate, One on a ladder, One under the back stairs on a stray 2x4.  Goats:  2.

The worst part is the Goats are blissfully ignorant of the trauma the chickens are experiencing.   Ronny says the goats care nothing about the psychology of chickens.  Perhaps I should find the appropriate book and read to them while they ruminate?

Image from Tom Chambers Photography.

Housekeeping

Well, my OCD was busy tonight.  Good Enough Farms tags/labels were out of control; Evidence of an unorganized mind.  So OCD called Housekeeping and they spent some time making categories and trying to Declutter. 

We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you, but hope that it will make it easier to navigate by category from now on.  Pledging to stay simple, I bid you a goodnight. 

C'est Pression Barométrique ou des Hormones

Dear Reader,

I am sure you will share my shame at my confession:  I ate an entire box of Fiddle Faddle and a Hostess Chocolate cupcake today.  Some people I know would say that my body had some need for the nutrients in the Fiddle Faddle and that is why I ate it and I should not feel guilty.  But I feel confident in saying I did not need the whole box.  I can accept the Hostess cupcake.  It was, after all, chocolate with cream filling. Confession being good for the soul, we can now press on to other matters.  Thus-.

On a lighter note, after the rain let up this afternoon, I took the goats out for a walk (without leashes).  They were beautiful things in the woods, nibbling here and there.  Nutmeg has a fondness for pine needles and yellow leaves.  Echo ate the flowers off a tall weed and then the leaves, one by one, leaving just the slender stalk behind.  We strolled along companionably, and like magic, after about 20 minutes they ran back  home and in through the gate. 

After they put themselves away, Craig and I went on an Archaeological Expedition for the deer skeleton that should be laying in the woods where I saw (and smelled) the carcass this summer.  We couldn't find it, leading me to think something large dragged it off.  Not wanting to contemplate what exactly would do such a thing, we began to retrace our path, and heard Nutmeg bleating  "Come Ba-a-ack".  I know that was what she said because Craig told me so.  And seeing that he is fluent in Goat, I was not surprised when he shouted, "We're coming!"  This did not reassure Nutmeg, however, and I am forced to conclude that she does not speak People.  A great impediment indeed, but if Craig can so easily master Goat, I am certain she will quickly grasp the rudiments of People. 

Lovely Weather For Ducks

It's Raining Cats and Dogs.  In harmony with the long standing wisdom that goats dislike wet weather, Nutmeg and Echo have taken over the entire House.  Unsure of their Large Companions, the Chickens are huddled under a tree.  The Rabbits are sleeping in their hutch oblivious to everything.  And the only one who is happy is Mrs. Duck.  This is especially notable since Mr. Duck found a new home yesterday with Susan, the Goat Milk Lady, on New Chapel Road. 

We would sing a sad song for Mr. Duck, but he has gone to a new wife and a battalion of Roosters who shall keep him in check where the ladies of the hen house are concerned.  

No sooner had I thought things had settled here at Good Enough, Ronny announces plans for shed construction.  A Goat Shed just for the goats and a Tool Shed.  I suppose life never stands still. 

Goat Cart

While it had not crossed my mind when I first brought the goats home, it has since come to cozy up in my brain that a goat cart would not be a bad idea.  And I will tell you why.

On Sunday afternoon I clipped their collars on and with a leash attached to each goat--it seemed like a good idea at the time--I took the goats down to The Meadow, which is the long strip of meadow under the power lines.  I wanted them to get a feel for the place and have the opportunity to sample some of their future dinners.  This worked quite well until Nutmeg decided it was time to go home.  Off She Went Like a Missile Out of a Silo!  Echo followed, Thank Goodness, and they went up the hill back to the house dragging me behind like a lunatic!

Some people never learn, or have more in common with goats than they like to admit, and so today we repeated our exercise in stupidity goat walking, and it went much better.  For about 20 minutes.  Then, like a horse at the track, Nutmeg was off again!  This time I was prepared and they didn't drag me up the hill.  Much.

But now they have me thinking.  If they are this strong, could they be trained to pull a cart?  To carry a pack?  I'm not sure why I would want to do any of these things, but give me time.  I'll come up with something. 

image from bobbydobby

Homeopathy

My interest in homeopathy began when Craig was about two.  There was a generous and loving sister in that Kingdom Hall who had observed Craig for a time and felt that she might be able to do some things to help him.  She kindly volunteered to do what she could in the area of alternative medicine.  It was through her that I became aware of herbal medicine and homeopathy.    

I have always relied on the homeopathic/herbal expertise of others and that was fine when I lived in an area where I was confident in the knowledge of the people I asked questions of.  Now I don't feel that same security when I ask a salesperson a question.  I always wonder if they really know what they are talking about.  What are their qualifications?  Do they have training in this area?

Thus, when I recently found a homeopathic remedy and bought the strength recommended by the Materia Medica, I was still at a loss because I did not know the appropriate dosage.  (Dosing is the most difficult part of homeopathy as far as I am concerned.  How much, how often?)  Can you imagine my relief when I found a website where they give really in depth information about the particular remedy and then--a Consultation Box!  You can actually give the relevant information to a Homeopathic Doctor who emails you back with the proper dosing instructions.

I was quite excited when I received his instructions this morning in my email, as well as his request that I contact him in 10 days with my observations as to the efficacy.  So, if you are into homeopathy but would like the partnership of a doctor, check his site out.

Looks Like.....

 Is it just me, or do you think Nutmeg looks like Alfalfa, from Our Gang? 

http://www.thisdaytrivia.com/content/alfalfa.jpg

Sheep and Goats

Yesterdays speaker at the Kingdom Hall was a guest who hailed originally from Turkey.  He had become acquainted with The Truth through one of our local brothers, Morgan Chewning, who had served as a Missionary in Turkey in the 70's.  He has resided for years now in the Rockville, Maryland area and told a funny little story about some sisters working rural territory years ago.  It seems they had gone to the house and knocked but no one answered.  One sister said to the other, "I really need to pee!"  She noticed an outhouse in the back of the property and indicated she was going to take advantage of the opportunity.  Before she went in, however, she thought, "Maybe the householder is in there!  I better knock first!"  So, she knocked and a deep voice answered, "You guys don't miss a single door, do you?"

Earlier, while researching online, I came to a strange discussion about liking Goats over Sheep and what that says about a person's faith  Obviously, Christians know that the Bible compares certain types of people to Sheep or Goats.  Sheeplike people would be meek, teachable, led easily by a shepherd.  Goatlike people would be rebelliously inclined, wanting to go their own way, bucking the leadership of a shepherd.  So, the question:  why would a Christian prefer the company of goats on their farm? 

First of all, you will remember that after Jehovah created things, at the end of each Creative Day he 'saw that it was good.'  That includes goats.  There is nothing inherently wrong with goats.  They are reflections in some way of God's qualities, or how could he have made them?  And secondly, just look at that little cuddle bug of a goat up there.  All she wants is a good head scratch and some attention.  She doesn't seem to be inclined toward butting or bad behavior.  She's just a goat.  So, remember, the Bible looks badly on Goatlike People, not goats. 

Which is good, 'cuz just look at that face: 

Goat Obsession

Dear Reader, I will try to control my Goat Obsession, but let me get these things off my chest first:

It's my Family Favorite, Chicken Pot Pie, with a dough goat's head on the crust.  I know.  It's an illness.  I'm working on it. 

And, the only existing photos of the goats in the backseat of the Malibu were taken by Craig on Ron's cellphone.  But I can't download them because it's a Tracfone and all the cool features are locked.  So, I took a picture of the picture. 

 This is Nutmeg on the seat next to Craig.  She's the dominant goat, so she had the highest spot possible in the car.  

And this is Echo, the lowly one.  She happily sat there while I put one hand back between the seat and the door and played with her head. 

Okay, I'm done for this moment.  Now I have to go outside and rake up some acorns because I've read they can be toxic to goats if they are unaccustomed to them.  The squirrels will just have to take it on the chin.  Their hoard is going bye-bye. 

Page Two of the Halloween Worksheet

WHERE DO HALLOWEEN TRADITIONS COME FROM?

The Jack o’ lantern
When the Irish immigrants arrived in America, they brought with them the tradition of carving-out turnips or potatoes and placing coals or a small candle inside of it. These were then displayed on doorsteps at Halloween to ward off evil spirits. However, the Irish quickly discovered that it was much easier to carve out the pumpkin and this was soon a basic tradition of the Halloween festivities.

The belief behind the Irish tradition of this carving is based upon the myth called “Stingy Jack”:  Stingy Jack was a miserable, old drunk who loved playing tricks on anyone and everyone. One dark, Halloween night, Jack ran into the Devil in a bar where Jack tricked the Devil by offering his soul in exchange for one last drink.
When Stingy Jack eventually died several years later, he went to the Gates of Heaven, but was not allowed in because he had spent his whole life lying and drinking. So, Jack then went down to Hell, but the Devil would not let him enter.
From that day forward, Stingy Jack has been doomed to roam the earth as a ghost with only a turnip that he had stolen, hollowed out, and with a coal from the fires of Hell inside of it to light his way.

MAKE YOUR OWN DECISION:
1) Are Jack o’ lantern’s just “innocent fun”?

Trick or Treating
Trick or treating started as leaving food and wine for roaming dead spirits and ghosts. The custom was referred to as "going a-souling" and was eventually practiced only by the children who would visit the houses in their neighborhoods and be given gifts of ale, food and money. It was believed the spirits of the dead returned to visit their old homes during Halloween and, in ancient times, people left food out for them and arranged chairs so that they would be able to rest.

MAKE YOUR OWN DECISION:
1) Is trick or treating just “innocent fun” as some people claim?
2) Read Genesis 3:19 and Psalm 146:4 and tell me, what really happens to someone after they die? Why does this make the idea of trick or treating even more disgusting to a worshiper of Jehovah?

Costumes:
On Halloween, when it was believed that spirits returned to the earthly world, people would wear masks when they left their homes during the night hours. In this way, they hoped they would avoid being recognized by the ghosts and be mistaken merely for fellow ghosts.

MAKE YOUR OWN DECISION:
1) Why do you think that Satan tries so hard to get people to dress up on Halloween?

Witches and Cats:
The use of witches and cats (together with ghosts) in the celebration of Halloween comes from the belief that on Halloween night evil spirits come back to harm the living. It was a common Celtic belief that cats (particularly black ones) had once been human beings who had been transformed into cats as punishment for their evil deeds or through coming in contact with bad magic.

MAKE YOUR OWN DECISION:
1) Read Leviticus 19:26 and you decide: Why does Satan try so hard to get people to practice magic?

Halloween Parades:
In ancient times, pagan Celtic priestesses would roam the countryside, chanting songs in order to frighten away the evil spirits thought to be out on Halloween night.
MAKE YOUR OWN DECISION:
1) What are the reasons that you do not want to participate or even watch a Halloween parade?

Happy Homecoming!

 
Today was a big day here at Good Enough.  After a good morning out in the ministry, Craig and I came home, changed into suitable farm attire, ate lunch, grabbed Ronny and piled into the Malibu to pick up our goats.  We crossed a county line four times:  Campbell to Appomattox to Campbell to Charlotte.  Whew!  But when we got there our goats were waiting in the yard with Mrs. G from Providence Farm.  I jumped out with a bag of Campbell's Soup cans and discount cards for Northern Tools, because you have to give something in exchange for goats.

We wandered out to where our babies were and I tried to bribe interest Nutmeg with a carrot, but she declined.  We literally collared the two precious gifts and led them into the sheet covered back seat of the car with Craig.

Craig got Nutmeg to sit down on the seat and Echo followed suit on the floor.  I was able to bribe interest Echo with a bit of carrot, and she happily chewed away.   The trip home was very peaceful, with only one sweet little bleat.  I wanted to take pictures of them in the backseat of the car with Craig, but my camera batteries chose that exact moment to die.  I would have kept them in the car while I found new batteries, but we already had some "goat beans" in the car and we didn't want to take any more chances.  Thankfully nobody peed.  (Not even me!)

                                                


There is Nutmeg, in her new surroundings,  checking out some bedding and deciding whether to eat it or lay in it.  I think eating won out. 

And here is Echo.  After she followed Nutmeg around for a while copying her every move,  she was parched and needed a cool beverage.  I am happy to say that no one ate anything inappropriate, although all objects of temptation were promptly put on the other side of the fence. 

The rabbits, ducks, chickens and Kitty all took instant flight at the sight of the goats.  We have not seen Kitty since. I believe his sense of his own importance has taken a serious hit and he needs time to recover.  The chickens hied to the other side of the fence and the goats lost no time in unintentionally intimidating the ducks.  Finally, the ducks have someone bigger to put them in their place!  

So, at the end of the day, here we are at Good Enough Farm:  Home to chickens, ducks, rabbits, and at long last, goats.  My livestock wish list is complete.  Now I just want a tool/feed shed, raised beds, and an extended deck on the back steps.

Halloween Study Worksheet, page one

 Two years ago I found a Halloween Study Sheet online.  There were things in it I had never heard before.   I wondered if maybe you were unaware of them as well, Reader.  I am using  page one for my blog today. 

            The Facts Behind Halloween—Ancient Night of Terror

It is the last night of October. By the light of the moon, a small group of costumed figures move from house to house stating their demands with dire threats. Guarding some doorsteps are grimacing pumpkin heads glowing with burning candles—made from human fat. Other doors drip with human blood. It is the night of Samhain, Celtic lord of the dead.

 

Perhaps in no other holiday does Satan so obviously honor himself and honor his war dead. The writer J. Garnier suggests that celebrations of suffering and death can be traced back to the ancient destruction of all of the Devil’s human followers,as well as the giant bully sons of fallen angels, at the time of the Flood. Cultures the world over have festivals for the dead, “held worldwide on or almost the exact day on which, according to the Bible, the Flood took place: the seventeenth day of the second month—the month nearly corresponding with our November.”—The Worship of the Dead, by J. Garnier.

The Druids were no exception. On October 31, Samhain was said to release the spirits of the dead to mingle with the living.  Druids roamed the streets with lanterns, and on coming to a house, they demanded money as an offering for Satan.

Halloween is a major satanic ritual day. “It’s a religious holiday for Satan and the Demons, with satanists performing sacrifices and witches quietly celebrating with prayer circles or meals for the dead,” according to a USA Today article. It quoted Washington witch Bryan Jordan as saying, “[Christians] don’t realize it, but they’re celebrating our holiday with us.
. . . We like it.”

Anton LaVey, author of The Satanic Bible and high priest of the Church of Satan states, “Satanists consider Halloween the most important day of the year. Satanic, occult and witchcraft powers are at their highest potency level…Satan and his powers are at their best that night.”

Traditional Halloween activities continue Samhain's spirit of celebration in the face of frightening thoughts of death and the supernatural. These include: scary movies, haunted houses, ghost stories and Ouija boards to contact the demons and the spirit realm.

MAKE YOUR OWN DECISION:
1) Read Matthew 22:37 and you decide: Would a worshiper of Jehovah have ANY part in a celebration that is designed to honor Satan the Devil?
2) Read Ecclesiastes 9:5,10 and you decide: Would a holiday that honors “spirits of the dead” as if they were not dead but ghosts be something that makes Jehovah happy or makes Jehovah mad?
1) Read Deuteronomy 18:10-13 and you decide: What are the reasons that you do not want anything to do with Halloween?

Coincidence?

Take a look at what came in my mailbox!  How did they know?  Are they spying on me?  Am I that obvious that people hundreds of miles away can sense my Goat-Longings? 

Shh, It's a Secret

How do you recommend a blog written by a relative writing under a pen name without revealing their identity?  I don't know.  Do you?

Oh, well.  Check it out.  http://confessionsofasamplelady.blogspot.com/2010/10/in-begining.html

And if they hold matches to my toes I won't tell who she is. But I will give tell them she lives in the Continental United States.  And give them a sonogram picture to identify her.  After all, I'm reasonable.

Guess

This is the second book purchased for the Library at Good Enough Farm. It sat on the shelf, rejected by The Man of the House, but cuddling at odd hours with She Who Wants Goats.

 In a recent blog entry I threw out to the world my dream of a goat herd.  It came back with a phone number and email attached.  The email was read.  Breath was held.  Hope was stuffed in the closet while He Who Makes Decisions pondered.  More emails crossed the invisible highway of The Interweb.

One of them looked like this.  That is Nutmeg on the right and Echo on the left.  If you are not in love right now I advise you to go see a doctor.

Although one is counseled on the matter of counting their chickens before they are hatched, these are goats after all and they don't need hatching, just fetching.  In anticipation of the felicitous event,   Essentials were obtained and set to the side like Baby Shower gifts in the Nursery.  

 

I can hardly wait!

A Day With My Daughter

This is a day old photo of my son, my daughter and myself.  She came over from Bluefield for an overnight visit.  We went to Taco Bell for lunch and bounced up and down on the seat in typically infantile public behavior.  We explored the new Dollar General Store in Concord and bought imitation Thin Mint cookies, Extra butter microwave popcorn and other essentials for her visit.  We came back home and she watched a movie with her Daddy.  Yes, it's an exciting and adventurous life we lead here at Good Enough!

She slept on the couch because the batteries on the inflatable mattress were bad.  What a good sport she was to be thrown on the couch with a quilt and a sad little pillow.  I served her "breakfast on the couch" the next morning:  French toast made with homemade cinnamon raisin bread and sausage.  We watched "Woman of the Year" with Hepburn and Tracy and discussed whether their marriage would really work in the end. 

With a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a cup of coffee tucked inside, we said goodbye to each other and off she went, back to her own life and her own hubby and her own little home.  You know, she turned out really well, and I have to give the credit to Jehovah, because she's certainly a better person than I am. It reminds me of the words to one of our Kingdom Songs:  "Precious gifts from God our children are, but to God they do truly belong."

Isn't it neat to look at these people that we have produced from within ourselves and recognize that they are fully their own people?  What an awesome miracle our children are!

Anybody See The Resemblance? (Update)

Separated at birth, maybe?

(Some have asked me who the lovely fellow in the lower picture is.  He is Nosferatu (Dracula) from the 1922 silent film, played by Max Shreck.)

Who Knew?

While looking through the furniture listings in craigslist, I found two unique items:  A Chesterdrawers and an Armed Chair.  While the Chesterdrawers sounds relatively harmless, I would advise caution around the Armed Chair.   Although now that I think about it Chester might come looking for his drawers....Best pass on both. 

Chickens Are Very Photogenic

Tracing the Path

My father always had a great appreciation for "The Country."  Although we lived in the suburbs, we had access to The Woods at the end of our block.  If we really went wild we could go all the way down almost to Rock Creek Park and hunt for crayfish in a stream down there.  My family went  camping many times I am told, but I have no recollection, probably having been traumatized by fears of bears or monsters or having to walk to the latrine in the dark.

At the end of my first decade of life, my Father purchased land in the mountains of Virginia and built a simple A-frame cabin.  It was approximately a two hour ride from our house and all eight children would be stuffed into the station wagon til we were hanging out the windows and driven out to The Cabin.  (I can still smell the Wrigley's Spearmint Gum that my Father would chew all the way there.)

 

Imagine:  Eight Heathen Children Sprayed for Insects, Armed with Large Hiking Sticks, and Set Loose in The Woods somewhere in the vastness of the Blue Ridge Mountains.  Standing on the porch you could see the Shenandoah snaking away in the distance.  Off we would go, seeing all kinds of things that our Suburban Woods never hinted at.  Salt blocks in the meadow for deer.  Milkweed pods with their fluffy seeds dancing off into the breeze.

Mushrooms and toadstools and all sorts of parasitic growths attached to Great Trees.  Strange colored tuberous growths poking out of the dark, rich forest soil.  Deer, walking calmly and quietly through the deep shadows.  Small Waterfalls and the deep pools below them. 

I determined that one day I would live in the quiet, stress-free Countryside. Preferably the Woods, where I would live off the land.  This remained nothing but a child's dream for the most part, although I have been privileged to live in The Country for the better part of my adult life. Time passed, Children Grew, States of Residence changed.  Now in middle age I found myself living in the woods, suffering a severe case of Empty Nest Syndrome.  I needed something to fuss with, to nurture, to save my sanity.  Since I had an Empty Nest, I stuck some chickens in it. Chickens were joined by Ducks, Ducks were joined by rabbits.  One day I hope to have a herd of goats placidly browsing in the clearing by the driveway.  It is strange the journey we take in life.  How we get from here to there, never dreaming that we really will.

http://farm1.static.flickr.com/227/483500787_172167630f.jpg

Three Eggs and Tylenol

Today Squeaky went over the wall.  I was washing dishes and I saw her sitting on the gate into the duck's area.  She brazenly flew in and went into their pen, looking, I suppose, to lay an egg in there. The Terrorists were having none of it, however, and blocked her every move.

At some point she flew out to the safety of the chicken yard and joined the other hens in hunting and pecking and other fun chicken activities. 

At dusk when I went to put the ducks away I half expected to find a Squeaky egg in there, but there was only a duck egg.  As I stood from searching for and finding the pesky ovoid I banged the back of my head on the propped up doorway.  What do you know!  There were two eggs in the duck's pen after all:  one duck egg and one goose egg.

Rubbing the aforementioned goose egg vigorously so as to confuse the pain receptors, I made my way to the chicken coop to shut their little door and found Squeaky's egg all alone in the corner.

I took my three eggs into the house.  I washed and refrigerated two of them. I gingerly patted the third and made an internal application of Tylenol.  I think I'll pass on any future goose eggs.

Today Is the First Day of the Rest of Your Life

I had gotten no further than two verses into my weekly Bible Reading when I was struck by the phrase "For Judah himself proved to be superior among his brothers."

Wait a minute, I said to myself.  Judah joined in pillaging the Shechemite city after his brothers had murdered all the males.  He had a share in the selling of Joseph into slavery and the following deception of Jacob.  He married a Canaanite woman, a non-worshipper of Jehovah, and then later had intercourse with Tamar while he thought she was a prostitute!  And he was superior?!

Okay, it's possible I'm slightly judgemental.  But, seriously.  So I pulled up the reference materials and was scolded soundly and readjusted firmly.  It's easy to focus on the errors that people make.  They are more sensational, they make a stink, and they stick in the mind.  But did I remember that two of the aforementioned incidents occurred before Judah was 20?  He was still quite young, and under the influence of older brothers.  His judgment was not fully developed.  It is significant that by the time he was 20 he had moved, leaving his brothers.  Was he perhaps saying by this action "I think I need to put some space between us for my own good.  I don't like the person I am with you."?

By the time that famine had forced the family to go to Egypt for food Judah has grown, matured.  He promises Jacob that he will be surety for the safety of Benjamin.  When valuables are found in Benjamin's bag Judah pleads in behalf of Benjamin and Jacob.  He asks to take Benjamin's place in slavery.  His obvious change in character is so moving that Joseph breaks down and identifies himself.  He had developed qualities of trustworthiness, leadership, reliability.

I reminded myself how glad I am that Jehovah doesn't hold our past offences against us.  He holds out hope for us that we will grow, mature, make better decisions.  Each and every day, each minute even, is an opportunity for us to do better.  Lesson learned.  Starting over.  Again. 




*image from blackchristiannews.com

Childhood Memories

For my readers who do not know, my son Craig is a Special Needs Adult.  I still think of him as a child, as does he.  So, my interactions with him are still mostly the sort you would have with a child.  Who happens to have a beard and a deep voice and other manly type stuff.  Confusing, I know.  Anyway, the point of all this is that when I shave Craig I wet his Italian heritage beard down with warm water and let it sit, then I rub in some shaving cream and do a butchered version of an old Italian children's rhyme.

It always tickles him.  Then I tell the story about how my Grandfather, Goochie Goochie, used to play this little game with us where he would caress our cheeks and say this rhyme to us.  My understanding of it was limited, but I knew it had something to do with going somewhere and having cheese and bread.  The only part that sticks in my mind is the beginning, which sounds like "Moosha Mooshell".

Craig desired me to find a version of it on the internet, and so off I went.  It is apparently a Neapolitan rhyme called "Micio Miagolio."

The particular dialect it is spoken in will change the way it sounds, obviously, but of the several versions I have seen written, this one* sounds the closest to what I remember.

(Italian Dialect)

Micio Miagolio
Vata Vatille
Che Te Mangiare
O Pane e casa
Nu mina Rata
Nu pugalia a mia
Frusti, frusti, frusti!

Actions

Rub the cheeks
On each line
On the last line
tap the cheeks.

(English)

Kitty Cat
Pussy Cat
What did you eat?
Bread and cheese
You didn't give me any
Not even a little bit
Hit, hit, hit! 

Some Italian Grandparents must have taken out frustrations on their unsuspecting grandchildren and slapped their cheeks.  Goochie Goochie just tapped them, maybe with some pinching, but we're Italians and we pinch!

I was also able to find a wav. of it which, although a little different, should give you the flavor. 

Micio Miagolio

Savor them slowly.  Childhood Memories have a faint aroma and need time to be enjoyed. 

*from Mamalisa.com

Odds and Ends

Look at all the feathers!  My hens did not moult last year, but they are making up for it this year.  If you try to pick up one of the biddies expect a shower of feathers!  Egg laying has correspondingly fallen off, but after the Great Egg Explosion of the Summer this is a welcome event.  

Most people would throw out the old clipped off pieces of woven wire fencing.  But you might have noticed I'm not most people.  So I made a glorious sun to shine on the chickens all day long! Chickens don't seem to appreciate good art, however, so I'll probably move it into the house where it can start to fill up the Great White Wall in the living room.

Finally, two successive postings in Craigslist have produced no interest in Mr.  Duck.  Ronny tried again to mix the two poultry camps, but the Ducks are terrorists and cowards.  They will run from the crows and hide while the crows eat them out of house and home, but let a chicken wander by minding its own business and it is "head down and charge!"  So the Great Wall of Jericho will remain standing to preserve an uneasy peace.

Unless you'd like a duck?

Topsy Turvy Table

Since we make most of our stuff here at Good Enough Farm, you might not be surprised to know that I had made our Dining Table.  Just a simple trestle table made with four planks of wood and one 2x4.  But that was four years ago and it was time for a more Official sort of a table.  So, today we visited Lowe's and bought a very nice piece of Birch Plywood and assorted necessities, came home and went to work.

Out of the one piece we cut all the skirting and the top.  I had bought the legs previously, and we debated how best to attach them, and opted for some brackets on the insides and countersunk 2 inch screws on the outside.  Those are some sturdy legs! 

This shape and the grain remind me of those Russian buildings, the famous Onion Domes:

Finally, about 7 PM we had one coat of stain on it and brought it inside.  I'll put a second coat on and then  Polycrylic on the whole thing.  We impressed ourselves tremendously.  So much so that I personally think it is too good for us and we need to give it to someone more worthy.  I'll work on my self esteem issues while I sit at our brand new table and smile.

Secret Fascination

I have a secret fascination with Feed.  It started back when we lived in Colora, Maryland on the hill above town.  You could look straight down into the main street and see the Old Train Station.  On the side was a huge Purina Mills logo, faded and distressed with age. 

The neighbors gave Allison a duckling, and for reasons which I cannot now recall we acquired a goat (a wether).  I used to love going to Southern States and picking up feed for the animals.  The sweet smell of molasses would wrap around me like a hug.

Time passes, the geography changes, but Farm Supply Stores still draw me in like old friends with their worn and crooked floors, ancient bins of seeds and nails, rolls of fencing, stacks of  livestock feed, bales of straw.  When I throw a 50 pound bag of feed over my shoulder and carry it to the appropriate feed bin, pull the tape and pour the beautiful pellets out such a swelling of emotion comes over me!

And the more rustic the bag the better I like it.  The layer ration in white, woven fabric bags with the big red "R" on them, from Rockingham Mill,  proudly declares:  "There's profit in the right feed!"  The Nutrena Rabbit Feed bags are a little shiny for my taste, but I do like the drawings and advice on the front: 

 

I think if I had an old barn I would save feed bags.  I would lovingly smooth them out and stack them in large plastic bins to preserve them.  I would open the bins and sniff the sweet perfume on cool autumn evenings.  But, I haven't got an old barn.  And I'm OCD about throwing things away.  So I'm left with blogging and my memories. That ought to hold me until I get to buy another bag!

Chickens on the Back Steps

I love sitting on the back steps and having the chickens hop up and down around me, looking for a treat.  The only draw back is chicken poop, but that washes off with the hose.