Posts Tagged ‘family’

So it is finally here.  The last son is graduating.  The nest is emptying….

I pride myself on being this tough old broad that is hard and realistic or at least I think I thought I was.  Then this happens.

Don’t get me wrong it was hard when the last two completed school and moved on to their futures.  But this is the last one, there will be no one to wake up 47 times to ensure timeliness, there will be no more dirty dishes or socks in the mostly unlikely of places. No more permission slips to sign in my last minute dash to work. No more lunch money.

I have been a bag of emotions today.  I felt like I have been fired from a start up business that I had birthed and grown into a fantastic, thriving successful thing.  I felt unemployed, my job is no longer necessary.  I will be kept on as an adviser but I am not  in charge of it.  I had contemplated selling the goats because why not.  I was rethinking every life decision I have made.


Youngest and his girl


As I was explaining  the jangle of shit that was going through my heart and head to my husband, the goat guy shows up.  “Hey, I have a proposition for you….”

I have two new goat kids coming Tuesday.  They are bottle babies.  They will need nurturing and I won’t have to wake them or find their socks but something wants me to keep doing what I am doing, so I will.  Even if it is with tears in my eyes.


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Family Traditions

It all started innocently enough, the middle son brought home a leprechaun chain from nursery school.  It was carefully crafted by small hands. There were green shamrock leaf shaped pieces of construction paper strung onto a green yarn with snippets of straws in between each leaf.  The idea was that you hung it somewhere and the leprechauns would climb it.  We, of course, hung it.  The boys went to bed and I pondered…what the hell is a leprechaun going to do after climbing the chain?

As the boys woke and came down the stairs into the kitchen they saw what a leprechaun would do.  He would overturn chairs and pee in your milk making it green. Youngest son had a big problem with drinking milk that someone had whizzed in.  That was the first year.

The boys then learned that if you trap a leprechaun you would reap the reward of all his gold.  So the quest to build a better leprechaun trap was on. With their involvement becoming more and more the scenarios for the morning had to become more imaginative. I crafted feet out of polymer clay to leave foot prints in the many different medias they left to find where he went to hide his pot of gold.  I left the tiniest of notes from Ian McMarty regaling his narrow escapes and chiding them that they would never get his gold. And the milk was always  peed in and turned green.  Youngest son still had issues with it.

Then time came and stole away the young boys who would trap for leprechauns and refuse to drink whizzed in milk.  The leprechaun chain is in a box upstairs with the kindergarten cookbooks, the class pictures and lovingly misspelled love letters to me.

I awoke around  3 this morning to make the usual call of nature and when I came down the stairs into the kitchen…I stopped and I smiled…the place was trashed.  Every chair was overturned, the fruit bowl was upside down and the fruit was everywhere.  Drawers and cupboard doors were wide open.  While I was sleeping a leprechaun was among us and he even took a whiz in the milk.

I love green milk!

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Last post covered how I am getting older and have decided to make some changes in where this little farm is going.  The process of change started last winter with a complete over haul of the mudroom.   Where there once was a brick hearth and wooden floors there is now laminate flooring.  The cabinetry and dated Z-brick walls were removed.  A  two bowl commercial sink that we got for $20 a few years ago was installed with some free standing stainless shelving.  A set of floor cabinets that my grandfather had made were covered with $15 lawn sale counter top. This was all in preparation of the change.

Two weeks ago, I had two different state inspectors come and do pre-inspections on the areas that we are “growing” into.  The first inspector arrived, walked into the mudroom and declared, “Well, you certainly have hobbled things together in an absolutely perfect way.”  I held in the urge to break out into a happy dance.  The home use kitchen application is filled out and pending a passing water test will be approved.  We then will be able to sell breads and pastries (not that I want to make pastries) jams, jellies and  cajeta.  Second inspector arrived.  The inspector for the creamery and dairy.  The home use kitchen area can double as a creamery. We just have to move the bathroom door, install a door between our actual kitchen and the creamery and hang a hand wash sink.  Do-able.  So happy husband is handy and willing to do these things for his crazy wife.  The dairy is the most labor intensive portion of the changes.  It will require plumbing to the barn for hot and cold water, sewer pipe, double bowl sink and an actual room built.  But once again, it is do-able with some time and quite a bit of money.  In a perfect world I would love to see all of this done by the end of the summer and you know what, I think we can do this.

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Ins and Outs

graduation 035

The past few weeks have been craazzzy.  Middle son graduated high school and youngest middle school.  One out of high school and the other in.  In four years we can plan on doing this again.

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This past month has been a minimally productive one on the farm side of life but a good sized amount has been done on the family household side.

The new year comes along with cold weather and there is not much to do outside but much to catch up on inside.  Not being one to hold to resolutions the farmer had made a decision to declutter.  Decisions are definite, resolutions can happen this year or well, there is always next year.  The Butting Heads family live in a house that has been passed down through the Farmer’s family for the past eighty years.  The main house is a circa 1790 farmhouse with an early 1900’s house married to it.  When the family moved in, the farmer’s grandmother was still the head of the household and all of her things, along with her mother’s things were here.  After gram passed a lot of stuff, a lot of stuff  was passed onto other family members.  But much still remains.  Not the big stuff, not the Antiques Roadshow stuff, just the stuff.  Corner filler stuff, under the eaves holding the roof up stuff, holy shit why is this stuff still here stuff.  Now don’t think the farmhouse looks like something from TLC’s Hoarders.  This is stuff that is tucked away in those out of sight, out of mind places until now.   The farmer cleaned out two closets and her gram’s filing cabinet.  Mind you the old house only has two closets.  But they are under the eaves and hold much stuff and the file cabinet, well you probably have figured that it was full.    Well, needless to say the garbage man hates her but the farmer’s closets are tidy and the file cabinet now holds stuff from the past decade (not the past 5 decades).

The most interesting things found: the farmer’s mother’s baby book and comb set, the farmer’s grandmother’s baby book and this:


A baptismal paper from 1896 recording the baptism of the farmer’s Great Grandmother.  Some stuff is priceless!

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This afternoon was spent at the orthodontist and then running errands for soap making supplies.  The farmer is making soap this evening.  Goat milk and beer soap.  The fats are melted, the beer is flat and the supper dishes are cleared.  Time for some serious suds, soap of course. Oh wait, the FH needs a tool and goodness knows the youngest son cannot allow him to go alone. YS,  “Mom, can you babysit for me?”  Farmer, “Can’t you take Finnigan?”  “No, he is sleeping.”  “But I was making soap….”  “I’ll vacuum for you.”   Farmer, “You’ll vacuum? Of course, I can babysit.”  It is a relief for the farmer to know that she can make soap and if the baby falls out of its basket onto the floor the YS will vacuum up the remains of the 10# bag of flour science project baby.

        Baby Finnigan









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