What you have been dying to see.

Garden, July 1st.

Why yes, I am proud of myself. My first garden in two years. My first garden in Kentucky. 

Just one of those days.

I am exhausted. So much so that I am unsure if it is a good, satisfying exhaustion or not. My muscles ach, deep to the bones, my head throbs to the rhythm of my pulsating heart, my stomach too tired to grumble over a missed meal. 

My morning consist of waking the boys for school; they have to make up a month of missed school days due to snow. Getting them up to the bus on time, 

then coming back down to work in the garden. The rocks are rather thick. This land use to be a road until the 1970's, I think that is some of the rocks I am finding. Sitting, as I still have not graduated to crawling as of yet. My knee is better, however the sensation of pressure makes my stomach churn, it is a least not tired enough to cause me queasiness.  For two hours, I slowly churn the soil into rows, removing as much roots, weeds and rocks as I am allowed. Thankfully the neighbor had broken the ground of the second half of my garden, it makes working it much easier. If, and that is an if, I finish clearing a row, I plant seeds, and move on. Small Farm Girl gave me two red bell pepper plants yesterday. I am humbly grateful. 

Finally it's time to wake Husband. With him working 16 hour days, driving another 2 hours, 

he gets 6 full hours of sleep. I give him every minute of it, no matter how selfish I am feeling that day. With this new schedule, all the homestead work falls on my shoulders. In a way I am glad not to be milking cows at this point. But I am working on plans for a parlor, and soon that will be thrown into the mix. At this time the girls are allowed their freedoms, though they take too much liberty with them at times. 

Once Husabnd is awake and dressed, it's off to the shop. Business has picked up, and we are looking forward to our first open house this weekend.

Most days I watch Husband work, I pay bills, order parts, and answer the phone. There are times I have to cut in and pull a client away from Husband so that work can be accomplished. With more clients comes more busy work for me. Yet even on the slow days, I can arrive home tired. 

Returning home causes frantic hustling. The boys tend to neglect chores when left alone. As soon as I pull up, I bark orders. Fire needs to get going, dishes need to be sorted, tub filled with water after watering the garden with yesterday's water. 

As the fire heats the flywheel, and drinking water, warming to where I can begin cooking, laundry gets soaked in the tub. While dinner simmers, I start the wash process. It takes a good hour of scrubbing to get them clean, and I am fortunate that the warm weather makes rinsing the clothes fun for the youngest two boys. I find myself rushing between dinner and laundry. Folding, stirring, wringing, stirring, hanging, stirring, serving. Finally a break. We eat dinner, just the boys and I, and settle in to watch a movie before bed and waking to repeat that days events. 

What we doing today?

The same thing we do everyday Pinky. . .  

Suck it up buttercup. (Edit)

Or; On the next episode of survivor.

Some days it feels that way, except the part where I backstab my friends and win money.  I am sitting home alone as I type this. Boys are at school, and Husband is at work orientation, finally. There is no coffe at the house, as I have stopped building fires in the morning, and I have developed a slight headache. I'm sucking it up. Actually I am taking a short break from gardening. I have spent several hours this morning weeding a mulching.

 A word of advice, gather leaves while everything is dead, it gets a bit cumbersome once things start growing again. You find yourself standing in a forest asking the chirping squirrels where the leaves are. 

I gave in, and sprayed myself in deet. The locals tell me listerine works, but I didn't have any on hand. I couldn't stand the ticks anymore. It is a daily battle, and we are losing. Every time we have an itch, Spoon! (Comic book reference) we think it might be a tick. And the majority of the time we are correct. They itch for weeks on end. I am glad I made the Goblin Spit. 

And now that the jewel weed is growing again, I will be making a lot more of it. 

Speaking of weeds, my house has bundles of early German camomile hanging to dry. I can use them in so many concoctions. And the smell of honey suckle has began to perfume the air, albeit scantly. Blackberry and raspberry bushes are in full bloom. I keep thinking about all the breads, cakes, and sauces I can make with everything. It's been so long since I have had a honey suckle cake, mouth waters with anticipation. Oh oh with a decadent raspberry sauce. . . Oh my. . .

I don't have any tomato plants yet, I fear I won't be able to get any. However I have planted onions, green beans, cucumbers, carrots, peas, lettuce, spinach, lavender, basil, parsley, spearmint, oregano, corrinder, cilantro, mustard, radish, potatoes, sweet majorum, watermelon, lumina pumpkin, winter squashes, summer squashes, pinto beans, kidney beans, black eye beans, good neighbor peas, brussel sprouts, popcorn, hickory corn, blue corn, and sweet corn. Oh and sunflowers and okra. I know I am missing a few herbs on the list, I know I planted more. Just not remembering right off the bat.  Even without tomatoes, there are so many things I can make that we might not miss them too badly. Thoough Husband might throw a hissy.  I'll have to see what I can do to get at least a couple of plants. Oh and I planted Bloody Butcher corn.

With the winter now gone, I of course feel better. One of the big things with this past winter is that I was doing it without husband most of the time. He was back in Kansas during the artic blast, he left on my birthday and came back right before Christmas. Before then he was gone a few weeks as well. I was alone, I was stressed, I was frightened, and still gimpy. I realize some women do this without a Husband, I know that some women go without seeing their men for weeks at a time. When Husband use to work motorcycle rallies, he would be gone for a month at a time. But it was different, I knew where I was with the world, I had an established home, I knew my neighbors, I had money, electricity, running water. I had a wonderful group of friends that could rescue me in a moments notice. I had my family. Not here, in this new world. Here it is all raw.

Today, I find myself more at peace with the woods. Not as worried that something is going to jump out and bite me. 

We have a few things on our to do list. For starters we need a lean to for our fire wood. We had a lot stacked in the house during the winter, weeks worth. It helped insulate the place, but we can't continue that. We are just asking for trouble. With the rainy season we have gotten very good at starting fires with damp wood. Not the most ideal situations, but it has to be done so I can cook and we can have wash water and drinking water.

We had to stop drinking the public water. It was making us sick. We boil our creek water over night, then in a make shift filter, we pour it into 6 gallon drinking jugs. We are no longer getting sick. Husband has to build a new base for my pitcher pump, and then I will be able to get water out of the cistern. 

Medium has a gift for lighting fires with damp wood. He doesn't use anything but leaves, wood and matches. Even under the threat of a downpour, he gets it going. Food is a great motivator. 

I guess I have taken up enough of your time. I will tell you about our other to do items later. 

A client just came by the shop and gave me a tip.

It's a Boy!

Xuxi had her calf yesterday. A healthy bull!

Let the name game begin! (Heehee. I have declared today a good, playful day)

Productivity

We had a good, bonding, family day on Sunday.

We headed over to a new friend's place (He calls us his Buddies) and proceeded to dismantle 100 year old house walls. Salvaging the good wood so that we can start framing a chicken coop, and maybe a few other animal shelters.

Large went to the military ball so was unable to help. And someone had asked why we don't have chickens. We were not able to transport them, because Ky won't allow it, and we don't have any type of shelter for them. That will hopefully soon be rectified, and we will be able to get chickens again!

The reality of it.

I will agree that we were far from ready to deal with the worst winter in 20 years. The winter has taken it's toll on me. Emotionally I am rebounding, physically I am set back. No, not my knee. That gets stronger and I have seen more flexibility as time has worn on. There are days that someone brushing up against the skin makes me cringe, thousands of hot needles scratching the surface. Other days the muscle behind my knee is stiff and sore, making walking more difficult. I still can't run, but I can scurry with the best of them.

It's the weight loss that everyone is glad to see that is the problem. The truth is, I really don't eat. I am lucky to have a sandwich once a day. I could eat more, but I have three growing boys, they need the food more than I do. I, like so many moms out there, sacrifice a huge portion (if not all) of their meals to ensure the health and happiness of our families. I have gotten very good at hiding it from Husband. You are correct in the assumption that they don't know. It's not that they aren't paying attention, it's that they are use to me eating as I cook, or having a migraine that keeps me from eating. Though last night, Husband caught me not having any dinner, and basically forced me to have some of his. But he expends more energy than I, and he needs it. Yes, some days it makes me cranky, some days. I am more tired than I should be. But this is the reality of what I have to do. Take no pity, this is my choice.

Spring is encroaching on the holler however. The turkeys are returning and wild foods are starting to erupt. A garden is in the planning stages, and things will be back to normal soon.

The motorcycle shop has also seen an uptick of work. Apparently those we need to know; those that know everyone, and are liked by everybody, have been coming in. We make them happy, we get more business from their buddies. Husband has put applications in at a few other shops. They are very pleased to see him. Some even knew who he was. But they don't seem to believe that he is willing to take work for less than what the last shop paid him. He tries to point out that the shop that fired him paid him way less that the shop before and the shop after. But in their minds they see that large wage and I guess get uneasy. We just have to have faith in the shop.

I haven't had a job outside the home in 10 years. Makes finding something for me even harder. I work to keep the shop going, selling off many of the things we brought with us to stay above water. I will admit, we should have done things differently. But here we are, and I can only make the best of what I have.

The boys are growing like crazy! Small still loathes school; the teacher mainly. Both Medium and Large are on their second girlfriends now. And Husband had a birthday on Sunday. I had enough items to make some brownies for him. 

We trudge on. Waiting for that light that comes after the darkness fades. (Your care packages have been my sanity savers) We have our good days, and our bad. Most of the time we are happy (no matter the sacrifices) and in love. We remind each other the reason we came here. That the motorcycle wreck helped us reevaluate our lives. And that even though right now it seems we made a major mistake, that we have had it worse in our lives. And that we will make it the best. Sounds sappy I know, but hope is all I have right now.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving has come and gone. And to my surprise, I didn't get overwhelmed and cry. I find myself tearing up a little too often for my own comfort. A pioneer woman in a frontier land is a bit bothersome and trying at times. But Thanksgiving Day I fell into my comfortable role as head chef of a family of seven.

Seven? Yes. When Husband returned for his last trip to Kansas, he brought back a friend of ours and her 4 year old boy. Having them here has helped me emotionally. As Small Farm Girl reminded me, I do not have my support system here. It's me and my family against the hills. Our friends husband is in the Navy, she hasn't seen him in almost a year. She told me that staying the month with us has helped her as well. And I am glad of that.

I digress, Thanksgiving Day. I didn't wake before the dawn. I slept in by two hours. I started the turkey, and the sides, finished the potato bread and we were eating by 3pm. I adore my obsolete stove.

It's difficult to see the bounty that I made. Little sunlight makes it into the house, and my phone doesn't like taking pictures sans bright light. Makes things look darker. As I cooked, our friend and all our boys went sledding in the 6" of snow that fell.

Well. . . Ok it was only an inch, the weatherman told us 6" was on the way. It never showed. Not even the second inch they said would arrive that night. The hills make their own weather, it's harder to predict things here than on the open plains. People here truly believe that the weather is easily predictable in Kansas. I giggle at that. I know, it's flat and open, however we have nothing to slow things down, nor help spread it up. We are at the mercy of the Gulf and Canada and what they decide to send that way. When they meet in the middle of the US, bam! Swing season and tornadoes erupt. But if the Rockies decide to intervene, it blows it away to the Ozarks. Our local guys are better than the national weathermen on telling you what is about to happen. 

Now I have to get use to the weather signals here. Without a defined horizon it become jumbled on what the clouds are doing. Sometimes it looks like a hill has exploded and I am seeing the aftermath plume of smoke. And it is merely a small storm. 

Thanksgiving gave us pause. We talked about the things we were grateful for. I was grateful to be walking, Husband was thankfull we were still with him. My boys, well you know how boys are. But the things they were thankful for made us giggle. 

We had pie, which by the way was made by a pumpkin Small Farm Girl had gave me for Halloween. And as I had nothing to purée the pulp completely, it was a bit chunky, like good mash potatoes. To be honest, it was very good. Then we fell asleep close to the fire.

Plenty of Firsts

I have been neglecting posts here due to one simple reason, I am afraid I might come off as whinning. 

I don't regret coming here, but the timing is making things very difficult. More on that later.

My winter garden is flourishing under the heavy frosts. Banshee Holler stays warmer than up top of the ridge. This has been a nice bonus. Though I know it will be cooler longer come spring and I will have to heat my soil to grow early crops. 

We had our first snow fall.

Not a whole lot as you can tell. Just enough to get our attention.

The mornings have been heavy on the frost. Which makes getting out of my driveway easier. It's when the rains come or the frost melts that I get to go muddin' just to get up top.

We dug out some river rock just so we could get a bit of traction. Some days even our 4 wheel drive isn't much help.

Last week Husband went deer hunting for the very first time. He came back 1 1/2 hours later with a small buck. He had mistakened it for a medium sized doe. Either way we have meat. One can only live off of tuna for so long. 

I really haven't met too many people here yet. We have been going to theis "biker" themed restaurant and bar on the weekends. Mainly for clientele. We can't really afford it, sticking with coffee for the most part.  But we need to try to wrangle some clients. Things here move so much slower than I am use to. And it has me frustrated at times. Husband fits in well. He is so laid make that it doesn't faze him much. And honestly, if things don't pick up soon. . . Well I am a bit frightened what might happen.

Right now we can not afford the line needed to finish the solar project. We still live by lamp light. It's trying at times, enjoyable at others. But frustrating when needed. 

I managed to gather chestnuts this weekend.  I will have a post dedicated to that soon.

The transition from Kansas to Kentucky hasn't been as smooth as one could hope for. Time will tell if this was turely the right desicion. 

The boggy man has not yet eaten me

But I thank you for your concern.

Giggling. . . 

We have a new member of our ensemble. Meet Chili. 

He is part fainter part Nubian. He won't get much larger than this. He joins our cast courtesy of Small Farm Girl and Small's excessive pleading. He misses having goats about. So I caved. Small loathes school here. So a little goat to make things more pleasant for him was an easy decision.   

The nights here have turned colder. Leaves have exploded in vibrant yet dulled colors. Things seem morose here. The overcast days, littered with rain, doesn't help the feeling of sadness. Though I am not stuck in a pit of depression, but the over all feeling of this place is one of morbidity. More so than any other place I have visited at this time of year. Fall always ushers in death, and you can actually feel it here. Husband says I have arrived in my true world. And even though I still know I do not fit in with the locals, this holler has become home. I have always meant to be here.

The full moon is startling bright when you are surounded by trees and hills. The framing of the sky still fascinates me, and I hope my awe of it never dulls. The scenery changes just as you grow use to it, and start to see the mundane. New brilliance erupts. Whether it be life or death that occupies the sight. 

The hills have quitted. The screaming has gone into torpor. Or has moved on to wintering grounds. As much as it sent chills prickling down my spine, I have begun to miss them. I can only assume that the bean sidhe will return come spring.

Our wood stove has been heating the house nicely as the night time temperatures fall below freezing. My fall garden is still doing just fine. We learned that it doesn't frost down here as quickly as it does up top. That adds to my relief. I digress, the stove is doing a fine job in its temporary setting. Flames flicker well into the night. The hard woods make us smell less like bacon as the fruit woods of Kansas did. Medium is grateful for that to say the least. 

Thinghere have slowed. We have done all the winter prep that we were able to in such a short time. Snow has begin to fall in the mountains surrounding us. It is just a matter of time before Banshee Holler sees the fine white stuff blanketing her. Let us hope I can escape up top when needed. The mud has caused issues with me being able to leave in the old Ford. I portend being isolated much more often then any one else has predicted. 

It's been a long month

These past four weeks, Medium, Small and I have been alone. All the progress has been on my shoulders alone. And I have been exhausted. 

The nights have been long, dark, cold and lonely. My days filled with getting the two boys off to school, sitting in the dark until the sun begins to rise in the holler, and the condensation starts to drip from the tin roof unto my head. Outside I would go to seek refuge, weeding the fall garden and listening to the squirrels plot to take back their land. Then to the shop, where I have been scrubbing painting, and fixing. Where Small Farm Girl and her hubby would come and keep me company as they worked just as hard as I to make this happen. I am more than grateful for everything they have done.

 

Husband finally returned from Kansas this Saturday. He was only to be gone 2 weeks, but some legal things came up and he had to stay to fix them. And then with the cost of the lawyer, he had to then raise funds to be able to return. 

I was overjoyed, and relived to see his smiling face again. Things are already going at full force again. The shop work is on overdrive to get it completed, so that we will have money to survive the winter. 

Saturday also brought out one of my wonderful readers. Seems like homestead bloggers are being cut down by the flu left and right, but she made the 3 hour journey to hang out by a campfire with me. She brought goodies, and chicken wire that had been sitting in a basement for years. And two very warm and fuzzy blankets to boot! The blankets are awesomely warm, thank you again! I had a grand time meeting her, and chatting. Small Farm girl and hubby came down, and we played musical chairs, trying to stay out of the path of the rampaging camp fire smoke. We now know who the bueatiful ones were down there that day.

The days are getting shorter, the leaves are changing color, and nights colder. Fall, and another adventure has befallen Banshee Hollers. 

This and That

I drive the boys out of the holler every morning, except weekends, to wait for the bus. It's very dark. And now the sun is rising later and later. I have gotten use to the driveway. But remember how I felt the first time I saw it. And then seen it in the dark!

Looks like you have three choices here, into the hill, off a ridge or into trees. Icey conditions bother me a bit, as you have to ride your brakes on good days, and there are several good turns in it. We plan on moving some of the downed dead logs to the fall off the ridge side of the drive. So at least we will be stopped a bit sooner and lessen the chances that I will go cereening, and screaming off a cliff 75 to 100 ft down, depending on where I decide to exit the driveway. 

It's also very very damp down here. Salt even clumps up. The cracker trick doesn't work, as the saltine becomes soggy as soon as the package is opened. The dampness is making it hard on me to burn. I have now become an expert at stick pyramid building. I hope that someday I will make the olylimpic team.

The leaves I have been gathering, have come for the downed trees. It's getting rather chilly here, and I want my fall garden to have a chance since I was several weeks late on planting. I realize that soon thousands upon thousands of leaves will descend, possibly smothering to death all those that I hold dear.  I am use to the leaves changing colors just as the temperature drops. Here, most is still green, and not dropping. So I gather to tuck in my cool weather veggies. 

Everything that I have planted has come up. Hopefully the first hard, killing frost is at least a month out. Cool weather veggies can handle a light frost. It actually makes some of them taste better, sweeter. But a hard frost is indeed a killing frost. However the pervious owner left a bunch of plastic, a huge roll of it. So I can at least cover the crops if need be to keep the frost off. 

I will try not to talk about the motorcycle shop too often here. If you are curious about that part of our life, I will have a Facebook link on Oct 1st, where you can follow that progress. The shop will be a huge part of my life. If I could spend the next year, or five, doing nothing but making this homestead perfect, I would. However our money is getting low, and we have to make a living. Homesteading, writing and motorcycles is what we know, what we have done for years, and motorcycles bring in the most steady of incomes. Though I will admit opening a shop at the end of riding season terrifies me. 

Medium, Small and I made banana bread last night. I forgot the baking soda! Luckily it still turned out very good. A bit dense, but yummy. 

Ms. Buckets arthritis seems to have settled deep into her hip. The poor girl is surrounded by sticks, yet unable to play fetch. She just doesn't go outside unless she has too. I know it's the dampness, and she is healthy otherwise. We knew it was coming, she is at her life expectancy age. We just keep her as comfortable as we can. She seems content to be a lay about dog now. 

The puppies are in heaven, well in the day time. Night comes and they lose their minds. Terrified of anything that makes a noise. Took Betty a few times to realize that planes were not coming down the driveway. Sprocket has taken up guard at the wash and barks at the deer moving through the brush all night long. I have to bring her in just to get some sleep sometimes. Of course my mother telling me to beware the hillbillies when I was a kid, camping, doesn't help things. Thanks mom! 

So far the only wildlife I have seen are deer, a black snake

and a squirrel with a major "mine" attitude. Haven't seen any evidence of face eating raccoons, badgers, or bobcats. We have heard red foxes and a female coyote, but she moved on weeks ago. They roam here, unlike Kansas where they tend to have a set den. And there're in smaller packs here. Not sure if that's a good thing or not. Less to deal with, but harder to find. And yes, we have seen evidence of Sasquatch as one of my readers suggested. I will have to get pictures and show you. But I have to brave the hill again. Oh, did I not tell you? Husband and I climbed up the hill behind our house to the pecan grove. It was hard on my knee on the way up, down was just plain scary but not painful. 

The sun is up now. So I guess I will let you go, I need to go build more stick pyramids. 

My morning drive to get gas.

The wish list

Katidids requested that I post a wish list. If you read comments, you might have guessed that I have invited a few bloggers out. It's nice to live in an area with people like me reside, nice people that is. 

I highly doubt that the majority of things on my wish list would just being laying around a garage, though I guess it could. But a wish list would also let you know where things are going, what has yet to be accomplished, and the sad state of affairs that this place is currently in.

Sub flooring (particle board)

Dry wall

Ceiling insulation

Cabbage seeds

Fence

Minuture donkey 

Mason mix cement

Home canned goodies

Thick blanket(s)

Saw mill or lumber

Toilet 

Propane valve for stove

Tractor

Deck screws

Cabinet accessories 

Drawer accessories

Low wattage washer or wringer

Clothes line poles (where the heck do you find those?)

Small propane bottles for lantern or oil

3 million watt flashlight or whatever spot light wattage is. (Bright)

Squeegee (long handle for cleaning solar panels)

Push broom

Mop/bucket

Cast iron nut cracker (not the little hand one, but the large ones)

Grain mill

T-posts

Round bale feeder

Cattle tank

Copper tubing

Rain barrels (or those large, squared, white containers)

Metal grain bins

Books on cd

Books in general are always on any of my wish lists, no matter the subject (only thing I don't like is romance)

Lathe

Mortar and pestel 

Caldron medium sized

Chicken wire

Milk filters

Butter churner

Squat wide mouth jelly jars

Glass medicine bottles

Small tins

Mixing bowls 

Wooden spoons (decent)

Egg beater

Cast iron pots or pans

Sand blaster

Back hoe

Rebarb (used, bent, what have you)

Bees wax

Lumber jack

So there you have it. Some of the things of the things my not caffeinated enough mind could think of. The recipts and deed are supposed to be in the mail, and some of that stuff can be knocked off my list.

My view of the harvest moon. (I woke at 5 am, and thought the sun had risen, it was so bright. Of course I freaked thinking the boys were missing school.)

Wax poetic

.




I realize that some of my post come across (and will) romanticizing this lifestyle. I do have the rustic cabin in the woods. One thing that has annoyed me in the past is those that over romanced the lifestyle of a homesteader. Either they are wonderfully lucky individuals or flat out lying. Omitting the trails by fire can be dangerous to those just starting out.

I try my best not to do such things. However right now I am in love with my new surroundings, I am a babe in the woods. Wide eyed and exuberant about everything in my path. Yet I do see some trouble on the horizon. Something that I will have to flounder through to survive the hills. 

When you read my future posts (several have already been written) remember all of this. I may be an old hand (giggle, sure) at homesteading the Great Plains, but I am an utter neophyte in the hills and woods. Things I knew there, don't always work here. I have to be careful in my excitement not to blow it all.

And I will continue to tell you all. The good, the bad, the ridiculous mistakes, like I have always done. 

Someone commented that they were impressed that I was still able to do everything and still have time to blog. It impresses me as well! The thing is, I am sitting in the dark, sipping on over brewed coffee, chilled by the sudden dip in temperature, writing this note to you. Buckets (the old staffy) is snoring away in the other room, Husband and the boys sleeping soundly, the puppies out on patrol while Sprocket (blue tick/German Shepard) curls up in front of the door as sentry.  

I write when I have down time. I have little else to distract me. My hands may be bleeding, my back sore, my knee may be burning, but there is time. To be honest, I don't spend very long writing my posts. The longer ones with pictures involved may take 30 minutes. It's not that I don't care, it's just that the words are already there, and I type at a decent speed. I love to write, I am a storyteller, the bard for my family clan. If I don't tell the stories, there will be no one else to do so. 

I can see my breath against the light of the tablet this morning. Fall has been ushered in. The family is starting to move around, so it is time for me to end this tale. 

No more walking shoes worn thin

Dawn arrives later and later. That's expected when the leaves whisper of the changing seasons. I look forward to autumn with a volatile mixture of excitement and dread. I have seen the photos of the tips of my holler trees in the fall. I fell in love with it at that point.

My cabin sits below that canopy.  Everything as of this moment is still very green. The signs come from the early leaf droppers, ash and walnut. The air is chilled night after night, the days warmed yet cooler than when we arrived. 

I regret only being unable to come out in the spring, as planned. I have limited winter stores. Small farm girl was able to secure us both with a large quantity and quality potatoes, which helps ease my mind. I realize there are grocery stores, and I do utilize them, but I am so use to growing my own that I prefer the taste of a garden. It's been difficult not to have a garden, however I am optimistic about the fall garden I have planted, albeit late. 

The English walnuts have begun to fall, unfortunately on my tin roof. Startling us all, sometimes out of a peaceful sleep. Hickorys, filberts, pecans and black walnuts have all begun to drop. My chestnut trees are showing signs that they too will be dropping soon. Small and I have been hungrily gathering them, Medium joins us only for the adventure as he seems to loathe nuts, unless creamy. 

I have been keeping my eye out for a wringer. I found an entire wash tub with wringer and rinse tubs, however I don't think the owner is keen to sell as it has been in his family awhile. It sits in a falling down house, and I promise to love it, care for it, and use it as well as his grandmother. We shall see. Other wringers I have found at the flea market were either ridiculously priced or broken beyond my ability to repair. But I am keeping a watchful eye out. My hands thank you for the concern. 

The sun rose up on the ridge almost 30 minutes ago, and is just now brightening my holler enough to see. It keeps the air cooler, sun rising late, setting early. The canopy the hangs just over the cabin keeps the sprinkles falling long after the rain has stopped. Sometimes the wind causes the leaves to fall, simulating the sounds of rain. It is fascinating. So use to the plains, that it all is fascinating, for now.

 

Choosing the path less traveled.

I sat and watched Sprocket, a Blue Tick/ German Shepard mix, standing in a pool. The water from an underground weep had stopped flowing several days before. The land has yet to be parched, however in our situation, this feels like drought. The water we rely on quickly diminishes, and a pool only deep enough to cover the stubby legged dog's ankles remains.

She suddenly jumps, all four paws landing back in the shallow water the same time her snout submerges. She has discovered that there are more than just frogs in this creek. Crawfish is now on her rustic menu. I enjoy watching her. She is stubbornly intent on the task at hand. Utilizing whatever tools are on paw. She has pushed an ice chest off the bank, allowing it to float in one place for a bit. Her nose nudges it aside, and underneath she finds crawfish have gathered. If only more of us could be that ingenious. 

As much as I enjoy lounging in the shade, doing nothing more than contemplating my dog's accomplishments, I have to use what water I have to wash laundry. It would be simpler to find a laundry mat. But I am stubborn about money. And my hands do a decent enough job. A few items I do take to the neighbors, however pride and not wishing to be a nuisance keep me from washing more there. 

Water sits in the cast iron tub, soaking up the days rays. The uncomfortable chill diminishes, and I grate my laundry soap bar over top. Sprinkling the water like parmesan cheese, its buoyancy impressive.  I have learned my limitations. Only two loads of clothing can be washed. I run out of clothes line, and my hands can take no more than that. 

I normally hum while baking in the sun. It helps keep my mind off the pain in my hands. Not the washing that causing the hurt, but wringing out the water from jeans and towels. After the initial wash, I wring and throw them to the ground, piling up beside the tub. I rejoice when laundry fairies arrive. Their wings fluttering widely trying their hardest to help. Alas, they are a useless group. Their puny arms can not lift the water logged cloth, nor can their petite wings speed up the drying time. Butterflies make for worthless servants. As hard as you might try to train them, they just don't have the upper body strength to do much, except maybe smothering, en masse, an intruder. 

After the laundry is hung, to begin their two day drying time, I am able to lounge again while sipping on sun brewed tea. You know you have arrived in purgatory when no one sells unsweetened tea at any store or restaurant you may venture into. Another thing I must do for myself. The horrors! Although recently I have found a few unsweetened tea establishments. 

I watch as Husband and Large do manly things. Splitting wood or digging holes, or even standing chatting for 30 minutes about something that will take them less than 10 minutes to do, such as manly things go. 

Small and Medium march over the boulders and scattered rocks that lie at the bottom of our drying creek, their puppies protecting their rears from any bears. Once those two heard that their gimpy mother had travelled the old county road, known as our creek, they were determined to do the same. 

The days tend to run together. Little seems to change, and less accomplished. Or so it feels. I wait for the clothes to dry, I get a bit better cooking on my obsolete stove, I discover new things on the small plot of land I am free to roam, and I wait for things to fall into place. Blood, sweat and tears covering us all. 

The day wore on. A trip into town garnered us a place to set up a motorcycle shop. And then home again. My days almost feel mundane. My normal is harder by choice, yet the tedium makes it bland. The humidity here is awful as I was warned, but it is the lack of wind that troubles me. It will take time to adjust, until then our aching muscles will be soothed by the piercing sun.

I find myself in a small fall garden spot that Husband lovingly tilled for me. He forbids me from using the rototiller because of my knee. The dirt a lovely loam, thick with sand, black dirt and years of natural composting. My only complaint would be the sticks and stones that threaten to break my bones. The stones will be dealt with by hogs. They should do a lovely job of bringing them to the surface. And my spring garden should go in much easier with their help.

Peas were pushed into my recently hoed row, just as thunder echoed through the holler, reminding me of old radio programing. the thunder a creation of a man shaking a piece of tin into the microphone. Trees undressed as the wind persuaded them. Rain suddenly ripped through the air. I hobble slowly through my yard, giggling to myself. My movements at that moment reminded me that I should perhaps whistle while I work. Then the clouds erupted. Rain poured from the sky. And as I lie on my bed, listening to it hit a tin roof, ever so loudly, and know that I would never change this for the world.

A look around

Found an old cellar this morning.

This is what use to be the inside. What you see is the inside back wall. Somewhere close should be evidence of a house.

Husband has been cleaning up around the cabin.

A lot of the scraggly brush is now gone. There is a deer trail about ten feet up in the hill. Both Husband and Large have seen a very large buck in our driveway area, at different times. So far I have only seen a squirrel that seemed determine to stop my truck with his bullish "mine!" stance. And a rabbit, hilltop. 

Butterflies are very thick here. It's beautiful, yet scares me a bit. Caterpillars might be a problem. However Medium loves it! He has brought in a caterpillar, that has now cocooned on a dead twig in my kitchen. And the largest crawfish we have seen yet in the creek.

The two older dogs, Buckets and Sprocket, are not as found of it here. Although Sprocket is coming around a bit more. But Buckets has arthritis in one hip, I think the dampness has made it ache more.

The puppies, Betty and Two are loving it. Below is Two.

I miss my cows, but good neighbor says all is well. And Husband should be retrieving them shortly.

Husband discovered beggarticks. 

The house is not moving a long very quickly. 

Still haven't seen the warranty that the previous owner promised to send two months ago. I contacted him last week and he claimed he would be mailing them out to us. It's going to cost us about $25 a sheet to replace the floor. This stresses me a bit. With trying to open a shop, and just starting a new life here, money is going to be very tight. But we will make it happen.

Now I am off to pester Small Farm Girl. Hope all is well with you.