Culling : to select from a group

The summer is drawing to a close, much as anyone here hates to admit it.  And with the end of summer begins one huge process...culling the herd. Thankfully, in families, we don't often look at the children and think,"Okay, which of you has to go?"...well, maybe sometimes...However, when we look at it from the farming standpoint, we are looking at (brutal honesty) finances and food.  What can we afford over winter, and what do we need to survive.
Occasionally there's the animal that has a personality we just can't part with (check out Intellectual Agrarian about Chickens), but on the general whole, we are pretty balanced in deciding who will stay and who will go.
To make the fun even fun-er, there's also the task of finding another home for the ones we can't bring ourselves to eat, or finding a butcher for the ones we can't wait to eat.
Did you know that poultry processors don't usually process waterfowl?  This means, if you go duck hunting...first find a butcher to take your dead ducks to, or do it yourself.
The Wife had purchased the ducks in hopes for duck eggs for the children allergic to chicken eggs...and it just makes sense that out of the five ducks she purchased from the local farm store-only one of them is female, and refuses to lay an egg with four males constantly at her side. Really, it's okay because we will eat duck.  The Farmer's Daughter, however, isn't going to be around for butchering.  Which leaves the butchering to the HausFrau and DIY Farmer's Daughters. You aren't missing it, they aren't jumping for joy.
Looking at the large animal livestock...culling is always harder.  First there is more than a dozen weeks involved in raising them. Secondly, there is the shear size of the animal.  We have goats and cow that have big brown knowing eyes.  We have a hard time looking into those eyes and thinking that those will be the tacos of tomorrow.  Often we just re-home in exchange for goods or services.  And, it's easy to say, "Let's butcher a six pound bird." Much harder to say, "Let's butcher a 300lb cow."
Regardless of how it happens, this season of culling has to happen.  Three acres simply cannot sustain a large livestock community.
And so, we begin the process of culling the herd.

April Snows Bring May Flowers

April 9,2018
Photo credit: Liane Layhew
no filters,iphone 6

The hunt was on for the daffodils! Everyday we were outside, mostly the Wife, walking the front yard and counting little leaves bursting through the ground. All of the sudden there they were! Fourteen perfectly random daffodils and one tulip. None of us know where the tulip came from, but there it was!
And the day came when one bloomed! And the Wife envisioned fourteen, at least, cheerful  yellow blossoms greeting every passer-by. What the wife did not foresee was the three year old Farmer's Daughter...also knows as "The Ninny-nator". Destroyer of makeup bags, ruin-er of rising bread loaves, picker of flowers...The Ninny-nator.
And the first beautiful yellow daffodil bloomed, the Wife took a picture! And The Ninny-nator Farmer's Daughter picked it.  Running behind the Wife and smiling grandly, she showed it to everyone.  Everyone-crestfallen-said, "No, Ninny.  No picking the pretty yellow flowers."
And the next day a new daffodil bloomed in a different location.  And the family cheered!  And we reminded the Ninny-nator NOT to pick the flower.  And she nodded her head in agreement.  And at about two o'clock in the afternoon-she picked it. And the Wife was sad.  She saw a death to her vision. There would be one flower a day.  One flower...and if a passer-by was there at just the right time, and looked in just the right place, providentially the passer-by would see one lovely, coveted, happy yellow daffodil. That was the reality.  And the Wife sighed-she took the flower from the Ninny-nator, gave her a lecture, but knew the war was lost.  If it wasn't a Ninny-nator who would pick the daffodils...it would be someone or something else.
Flower #3 met it's demise to a Frisbee.  Flowers #4 and #5 to the windstorm.  Flower #6 to the dogs.  Flower #8 went MIA. Flower #9 was too close to home plate in our family kickball game. Flower #10 was under the child climbing the magnolia tree. The tulip hasn't bloomed. We think it has seen the fate of those who went before, and has retreated back underground.
Someday...someday you will drive past our little patch of heaven here out west...and you will be delighted with a field of happy yellow daffodils in spring. Someday...

Daffodil Flower #1, April 25, 2018
Photo credit: Liane Layhew
no filters, iphone 6

We Don't See Any Daffodils Yet.

There has been great discussion in the house about where our daffodils are.  In the fall the little farmer's daughters and the Wife went and bought two bags of yellow daffodil bulbs.  Then we opened the bags and threw the bulbs in the front yard near the ditch...hang on, I know that sounds strange...wherever the bulbs fell, we planted them.  It has a natural effect when they start popping up-like there was never a time there wasn't a daffodil there.
When we lived in Wisconsin we constantly drove past a neighbor who had been doing this for ten or so years-in the spring his front yard was "a bloom!".  The Wife was thinking ahead!!!  If we start now, in ten years...it will look amazing! All winter we have been looking forward to the spring, because of the promise of the daffodils.
Here in lies the problem: the Spring has been hot, cold, hot, cold, hot, cold...everyday is a little different from the day before.  So, on the hot days we are out searching for the daffodils to peek their heads above the ground...and on the cold days we PRAY they will peek their heads above ground quickly!
The Wife has read that daffodils planted in protected areas will rise and bloom earlier than daffodils planted in a field.  I guess here on the plains of Illinois, we would be considered unprotected.
Yellow and happy faces of flowers welcoming everyone who passes by, welcoming all of us home on busy days, welcoming warmer weather for a season, these are reasons we are desperate for daffodils.
Where are they?
Are your daffodils blooming?

Farmer's DIY Daughter

Do It Yourself = DIY

Dear Farmer has daughters...six daughters. Each daughter has a gifting. Something that sets her apart from her sisters. It gives her an identity. And it can change as they grow. Hopefully the emotional daughter grows out of it, and the pianist never stops. One of the daughters is an avid DIY-er. She loves all things DIY! Crafts, food hacks, furniture building, musical instruments...you name it!
The favorite in the house is food hacks.
The hardest thing about DIY is the contagious effects. When a DIY project begins...all want to partake! "So cool!" ,  "Me too! " ,and "Next!" Echo through the house. Usually these things are best done in the singular, but in a family of twelve homeschooling, good luck with that one!
So, when Farmer's DIY Daughter comes to the Wife with a great idea to try the Wife has to multiply the list of supplies by fourteen, add to it the amount of unwanted help, divide it by the sanity she has left on a hectic day, and decide if it's a go/no go.
There are times that the answer is a shrill laugh followed by a flat "no". Other times we all plunge in with vim and vigor! Regardless, there will be more DIYs right around the corner to try!

The Last Beach Days of Summer

In town the pool closed mid-August when school started. But the beach never closes. Hooray for the beach!
So we gravitated North to the lake...to the beach...when all those poor children had to be locked up in a classroom, we took our classroom outside. Walking by the lake, finding dead fish, crawfish, mussels, snails, minnows, rocks, and shells. Ahhh, this is the life!
Many farm kids don't get this lake life as well as farm, so we feel double blessed!!!I
The days are getting shorter, the nights are getting cooler, swimming days are coming to an end...but we have a couple more months of beach combing. Ahhh, treasured last days....

Springtime Sharing

There is a joy to be had in springtime! And for all of us, it usually starts with a cold.  Either from the overly anxious child who has run outside coat-less, barefoot, and in shorts proclaiming "It's WARM!"; when the thermometer is barley registering above zero. Or from the extreme temperature swings: 70F degrees one day, down to 30F degrees the next, and back up overnight to 60F.  It's absolute craziness, but also a good reminder...it's springtime!
March is coming in "like a Lion" on our farm.  The wind blows to 45mph gusts, the temperature swings back and forth, and the grass greens one moment, and freezes the next. The livestock wander out to the greening paddock to nibble on what little they can find. The people in the house wander around looking for chocolate. And then there's the sounds of spring...cough, cough, achoo!  And being a family that shares, everyone is making sure to be generous in the giving of cold germs with the family members they feel "deserve" it most.
O the joys of springtime!

Ice Skating in Ditches, The Wife is Encouraging it.

So, there's been no snow for the month of January. Though we have had rain. When the temperature gets cold enough, the ditches freeze. For the children(ours) who are used to the frigid windmills of Wisconsin, and having ponds, lakes, and frozen fields...they find any hint of frozen water to play on. Hence the gravitation to the frozen ditches.
They were supposed to be doing chores...instead they were skating down a half mile of frozen ditch. Then there were the races. Obstacles of tree trunks, cattails, and drain pipes making the race that much more exciting. However, my personal favorite was "ditch wars". Where the sisters stand on the road and pelt brothers with whatever alongside the roadside they skate down for the best time. A little much like some sort of survival games movie...but it kept the occupied on a dreary day for three hours! Outside the house!
The chores had to get done before they came inside...giving me an extra half hour of a clean house!
I love ditches!