Bankruptcy Barn

Well, not quite that bad, but you know the old joke:

Q. How do you make a small fortune in the country?
A. Start with a large one.

My thinking, grounded in the economic realities of around 1958, said it can't possible cost that much to build a 10'x15' pole barn if we do it ourselves.

I stopped keeping track of actual costs after about the 5th trip to the lumber yard but all in all this small construction project took at least $850 out of our checkbook even though we applied every frugal trick we have learned in 41 years of living la dolce vita on a budget.

And then we had to fork over the money for

Ivy and Maisie (the ram should be here early July).

We've resolved to put large construction projects and animal acquisitions on hold for now. I think with the garden gone to weed, the pasture overgrown, the large pile of scrap metal in the driveway to dispose of, fire ring to rebuild, firewood to cut, grandkids coming to visit (!!!), and some musical projects of Tom's coming up, we can manage to keep busy and at the same time give the finances a chance to rebloom.

Remind me of that resolution if I start talking pigs. 

May

Her arrival is anticipated all year. We look forward to her charm, her warmth, her liveliness.

When she finally is here, we get all of what we yearned for. But like most longed for guests, we forget the less fun character traits-- the mood swings, self-centerness, messiness, general unreliability.

But that is what you can only expect from Spring.

Our spring started our slowly.

We finally got our garden plot plowed--a month later than I had hoped. Then the rains came back and we had to wait two more weeks for the ground to be tilled and finally plantable.

We did finally get most of it planted. Then something nibbled away at the corn shoots so we've temporarily set-up the electronet fence and Hilda volunteered to stand guard.




Notice the chain in her left hand? She means business!

In the meantime waiting for the garden, we did get our three rabbit does and picked up five guinea keets.

Hiding from the dreaded lawnmower monster.

And we started building a small goat barn. Or should I say, goat and sheep barn. Looking at almost two acres of grass, we decided we needed help keeping it under control. We now have two ewe lambs we'll pick up in June and a ram lamb that will be weaned and ours in July. These are Katahdin hair sheep so we don't have to worry about shearing (we also planted Katahdin potatoes, got kind of a Maine theme going here).

The barn is our first attempt at a pole building. Tom and Cindy manhandling a posthole digger was a sight to see.




Posed shot--it took both of us to work this sucker.



But we did it, got fence panels put up, and pushed this past week to finish the roof before more storms came our way.

We hope to get the sides up this week because it's almost time to get those lambs! I am beside myself at the thought of all that cuteness.

I also discovered I am truly acclimating to southern Indiana; I developed spring allergies. Sneezing and snuffling while planting and building add that extra special dimension to the homestead life. At least it's a change from complaining about my bad knees.

Pass the tissues, will ya?

Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail

After months of moaning around, feeling like nothing was happening, we're springing full-speed ahead.

Got our shiny, new metal roof finished.



The garden is plowed and soon to be tilled*.

And we have rabbits!

I hopped on the idea of the bunny trail during the long days of dreaming and planning during winter.

Rabbits are, supposedly, easy homestead meat animals. They require little space, they're quiet and produce copious amounts of great fertilizer, and they breed like...well, like rabbits!

We started building cages and I began checking Craigslist for some local furballs.

Before I was really serious, I came across an offer on a local Facebook page that I had to grab. Three does, cage, bedding, pellets, the whole shooting match. And the seller was only 11 miles down the road.

After a few emails, we came home with the three nose twitchers.

Of course, there's more to the story.

Earlier, I had gone to our feed store and saw they were selling rabbits. I asked what breed they were; the young man paused to consider and answered "Amish rabbits. We get them from an Amish farmer." Hmm, never heard of that kind before. I wasn't quite ready to buy yet anyway, so I passed on the bunnies reasoning it wasn't a good thing when even I knew more about rabbits than the seller.

Leap forward to the Facebook post which claimed these are Rex rabbits. In conversation with the poster, turns out the husband works for the feed store so these are also "Amish" animals. However, the wife had raised rabbits in 4H so at least had some experience. They looked healthy and happy so we brought them home. The cage doesn't have electricity and they're dressed in black and white and grey so I guess they really are Amish.

We had part of the outside stand for the cages finished but still needed a roof. It took us two days but we got one done that should work.

The rabbits are around 2 months old so in a few months I'll be looking around for a buck. By fall we should have the ingredients for rabbit stew!

Roof, garden, new livestock and warm and sunny days--welcome May.

*For the record: this is the first time in my long history of growing things that I have ever had a garden plowed. We have always hand turned garden beds and small plots. But this size is a bit beyond a shovel and fork; I may even plant some things in rows!

Spring Fever

Spring is a promise.

 A promise of eggs,



red ripe tomatoes,

apple pies,



fantastical projects, 

and warm days in the shade.

Today is a day that I have to believe that spring's promises will be kept.



Just Dishy

 

 

 



 

 

There's a very good reason I haven't posted in the past few days.

 

 



 

 

We're having a new roof put on the house and we found out that not only did the roofer have to remove the satellite dish but that it couldn't go back on a metal roof.

 



 

 

But today the nice folks from 1st Choice Satellite came and, in the pouring rain, installed our dish with an upgrade and, yes, on the pole in the berry garden (see Sod Off  . I knew there was a reason we couldn't get it out of the ground!). So  now we are back in the land of the cyberconnected.

Of course, 90 minutes later the electricity went out but, hey, that's life in the country.



For years I was smart. I recommend pleasant.

Miss Kelly: A white rabbit, six feet tall.
Wilson: Six feet?
Elwood P. Dowd: Six feet three and a half inches. Now let's stick to the facts

I've had rabbits on the brain lately.

We got two cages built and finally a stand for them. I've ordered the third cage; we still need to put a roof over everything and then I need to find some rabbits.

In the meantime, we were blessed to have Tom's sister, Dianne,  and her husband, Rick,  drive out from New York bringing along my favorite mother-in-law, Margaret.

I always have a wonderful time, wherever I am, whoever I'm with.

In the course of a delightful visit, we learned that Rick has never watched "Harvey".

I didn't think it was possible to reach adulthood and not have seen what is one of the most quotable movies of all time. We lost no more of that time putting in the dvd and learning all about...

...pookas,

P-O-O-K-A: From old Celtic mythology, a fairy spirit in animal form, always very large. The pooka appears here and there, now and then, to this one and that one. A benign but mischievous creature. Very fond of rumpots, crackpots, and how are you, Mr. Wilson?" [Inverts and shakes the dictionary] "How are you, Mr. Wilson?" Who in the encyclopedia wants to know?

...families,

Myrtle Mae, you have a lot to learn, and I hope you never learn it.

...and bad psychiatry.
 
Dr. Sanderson: I'm not using psychiatry, Miss Kelly — and let me give you a little friendly advice — that chip on your shoulder stems from a persecution complex that undoubtedly goes back to childhood.
Miss Kelly: Well, thanks so much for the case history, doctor. Now could you tell me what an over-inflated ego stems from?

Funny, witty, and well acted, this movie also fills me with the warm hope that people  can be loving and loved, with our prickles and oddities, even if we march to that different drumbeat and, yes, even if our best friend is an invisible, 6' 3 1/2 " rabbit.

Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it.

If you've never spent time with Elwood P. Dowd and his friends, rent, buy, download, or borrow a copy of "Harvey", beat off those flyspecks and welcome the miracle that is everyday life.

Dr. Chumley: Fly specks, fly specks! I've been spending my life among fly specks while miracles have been leaning on lampposts at 18th and Fairfax!

We made our bed but didn't lie in it.

I want to raise meat rabbits. So, I built some cages*. We decided the north side of the garage would be a perfect place for our rabbitry but we needed to build a stand with a roof to hold the cages and protect them from the weather.

We perused our pile of leftover and scavenged wood; surely there was enough material here for a cage stand.

Nope, no matter how many designs we came up with, nothing was working.

Then we looked up. In the garage rafters was a day bed frame left by the former owners. Maybe this would work and wouldn't it be classy, in a funky kind of way, to have our rabbit cages lounging on a day bed?

In an act of supreme daring-do, Tom climbed up on the stepladder and finagled the pieces down to me. We assembled the ugly thing, only to find it was too small to hold both cages.

We didn't want to take it apart after all that work, but what do you do with a bed frame if you don't want another bed?

I've been thinking that what we need around the property are stands or benches, something to put your tools on while you work or to rest your weary bones. Part of that wood pile in the garage are slabs of beadboard that our neighbor had long ago retrieved from a church being torn down. We'd hoped to use it in the house but it is too brittle and worn to fully disassemble so we've kept it attached to the framing boards. The top piece on the pile just happened to fit onto the bed frame, and, shazam...

...a fancy garden stand.

The rabbit cages are still in the garage but now we have a bed at the head of our garden bed. And we've given the neighbors something else to wonder about. A win win.

* "I built some cages". That phrase doesn't remotely begin to describe what I went through. When I get over the trauma, I may write about it.