Wednesday, March 5, 2014

What exactly IS a farm, anyway?

As a girl who grew up a military brat, I've lived in many different places. From the busy streets of major cities to the quieter suburbs of smaller towns, I've called many places 'home'. I'm easily adaptable and I'm familiar with the process of change. When we decided to make our big move to the country, I believed my experience in adapting to new surroundings would somewhat prepare me for where I call home today. Now, I can honestly say... moving from home to home may be familiar. Trying to figure out how to run a farm is practically foreign. 

I first needed to fully understand.. what exactly is a farm? Before moving here, I never really put much thought into that question. I thought of the cliche farms have... ya know... farm stuff. Tractors, pigs, crops,  overalls, and chickens. The pages of every children's farm book I've ever read runs through my mind. I hum the tunes of 'Old McDonald, The Farmer & the Dell, B-I-N-G-O..' you get the drift. I didn't need to put any thought into what a farm was. I didn't really care. what a farm was. Until. I found myself living on one. 

Now what?

When we bought the farm, it came complete with a horse and a donkey. We're in it for real now! Livestock? Check. There's a barn, complete with a loft...So, place to put random stuff? Check. We have another outside building, featuring eight indoor/outdoor divided pens for animals. Home for farm animals? Check. Nine acres of land to do something with? Check. Purchase a riding lawnmower because trying to use a push mower for this much land is HORRID?!?! ...CHECK.

No, but seriously.. what now?    

Jon & I find ourselves staring at each other, wondering where to start. What kind of animals should we get? That seemed easy. MORE HORSES!! Our Juliana has wanted a horse since she was old enough to say "HORSE'. They're pretty to look at, grateful and loving when they get treats, and we have plenty of room! We searched for a baby horse (what I used to call a 'pony'.. only to realize that my entire life has been a lie. A baby horse is called a foal..unless it's a boy, then it's called a colt). We were lucky enough to find a colt and his mother (a mare-keep up with me) for a decent price. Horses? Check.


                                                                       Sissy & Cody


....If you're not experienced with horses...they're really not a ton of fun. Colts hurt when they bite. Mares hurt when they kick. If they're not 'broke to ride', they get quite agitated when a human tries to sit on them. They can have attitude problems and can be quite the drama queens. And. They poop. A lot. In fact, there's no shame in their poopin' game! They'll poop anywhere-anytime. They're still beautiful, mystical creatures to look at. Just not so great when you have no idea what you're doing with them. 

One evening (after the newness of the horses wore off) my mother & oldest daughter convinced me to watch this youtube video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=we9_CdNPuJg Fabulous-right?!? We were on the search for fainting goats! We've got plenty of room and they seem to be hilarious! After searching for a few weeks, we found our two male goats (called 'bucks'. I've learned that each farm animal has an entirely new language that needs to be learned). My girls and I hopped into the minivan and drove the hour and a half ride to pick up our new...men. 

Spots & Horns


Goats are hilarious. They're playful, sneaky, loving, and embarrassing! When we first adopted our two bucks, they decided they'd like to get to know our...county...better. They would NOT stay in their designated home. I'd found them trotting down the street together, had several neighbors call or drive over to say they saw our goats or caught our goats and held them hostage until we could retrieve them. And..yes. There was the time they decided to visit a neighbor who wasn't too fond of goats. I found them on her front porch while she was trapped inside..calling for local law enforcement. Heh. It was QUITE the scene, watching me try to load these two boys into my van (all while my three daughters were laughing hysterically at me). Thankfully, they've since decided they like living on our farm and stay around home (for the most part). A few months after we bought our boys, we adopted "Belle" our sweet Pygmy nanny (goat lingo: nanny=female) goat who was...pregnant. Belle delivered "Gizmo" our little buck. If you're keeping track, we've got three horses, four goats, and a donkey.

                                                                            Gizmo

Remember that outdoor building I mentioned earlier? The one with the individual pens? The building perfect for... chickens! According to the internet and the semi-knowledgeable guy who works at Tractor Supply, chickens should be easy to care for. We purchased the 'chicken starter kit' (I can't make this kind of thing up-they actually have starter kits for chickens) and set everything up 24 hours before we could actually bring our chicks home. The next afternoon, we loaded the kids up and headed to buy our birds. In our great state of Georgia, it's illegal to purchase any fewer than six chickens at a time from a distributor. Why? I have no idea.. but who would only buy six when you can buy ten! Yes. We got caught up in all of the baby chick cuteness and we were in over our heads. Again. We don't learn. I realize this is a problem. We brought the animals home and THEN realized that newly-hatched chickens have to be kept very warm, in a draft-free environment. Our outbuilding is not draft-free, nor is it heated (with the exception of the heat lamp we purchased when Gizmo was born). 

                                                                          Chicks

What to do? I couldn't let these birds die in the ridiculously-unusually-Jesus-must-be-coming-soon-cold we've been having this winter. Our only option was...no judging here... to bring the chickens inside of our house (insert face-palm here..it's ok. I did it too). Y'all. I haven't mentioned our three dogs and two cats. They're like stalkers. They are natural hunting animals (not that we hunt..but we will. I promise..baby farming/country steps). As much as our animals would love to feast on chicks, my daughters would be devastated. So. We put them in a box with little-chick bedding, attached the heat lamp to a chair, and keep them closed off. I should have just bought another goat. Once the weather warms up, they're leaving my house FOREVER and staying in the pen Jon is going to fix for them.

Sadly, as animals on a farm go (or so I hear).. they sometimes die. We lost one chicken within the first few days of their arrival. The poor chicken (Bella's favorite-"Sunshine") was one of the smallest ones. A few days later, we lost another chick "Curious". My girls were pretty much hysterical when they learned their beloved chicks passed away. It's tough teaching children that some animals live and some die. It's a tough lesson to learn and even harder one to teach. They weren't so sad that they refused a good dinner at Zaxby's though. Just sayin'. Cluck, cluck.

Which brings me to.. raising farm animals that produce food. The chickens will (hopefully) lay eggs on a daily basis (so says Google) and our lovely Belle goat can provide us milk...Yes. My goat is Belle and my child is Bella. To my credit, I only named my child..the goat was already named. Let it go, people...We drink milk all of the time. It's an absolute necessity in my house since Kraft Macaroni & Cheese calls for 1/4 cup per box and Oreo's just aren't the same without a big glass of milk. For some reason, the thought of drinking goat milk grubs me out. I realize milk comes from cows.. and I realize goats milk is supposedly sweeter and some argue the milk from a goat is even better than cows milk. I guess I'll have to try to milk her.. as long as Gizmo doesn't protest too much (he's quite loud for such a little buck). I shouldn't knock it til I've tried it.. right? 

We've discovered goats love to feast on greenery. The greener and more expensive a plant is, the better it must taste. Contrary to what some say,  goats don't eat everything. They do enjoy clothing (like plants, the more expensive the better.. Horns has a fondness for jeans-as long as they're physically on a person's body), they consider children's chalk an exquisite cuisine, and they love to eat last night's leftovers. We're building a goat pen to keep those maaaaaaaaaarvelous animals contained and away from the vegetable garden I'm determined to start. I figure; I live on a farm. It's required I grow veggies. Now, to buy the book 'Vegetable Growing for Dummies.'

Jon & I decided that three horses, one donkey, four goats, three dogs, two cats, and ten eight chickens was a little ridiculous.. even though we live on a farm. We re-homed our colt & his mother this past weekend to a lovely family who is just starting their own farm and they DO have a little experience with horses (more than we do, anyway). I'm confident they'll give those two beautiful creatures the wonderful home they deserve. In the meantime; you can find us chasing chickens in the house, trying to keep the dogs from the goats, teaching the girls how to brush the donkey, trying not to flip the lawnmower, and stacking hay bales.

If you want to visit, you're welcome to come. Just remember these few things: Wear your boots (horses poop), put on your old jeans (Horns loves Levi's), if you want goat milk, you may have to milk her yourself as I'll probably gag, and bring a carton for eggs (that I pray our chickens grow old enough to lay).

                                                                            Horns

Sunday, December 29, 2013

Making the farm new to us..and why I should call in the professionals

We bought our sweet farm almost four months ago and we've finally decided its time to renovate. It's time to make the farm "ours". With three daughters and a boat load of animals, I foresee a lot of renovations headed our way.. But, first.
Painting.

The wallpaper in our middle daughters room was beginning to peel from the walls, so her room was nominated first to be painted. We packed the kids in the car and drove to Lowes, excited to pick out new paint. Taking three children to pick out paint colors is quite the experience. Middle kiddo (Julie) wants a 'turquoise-purple', older daughter (Samantha) wants 'cotton candy colors-bright pink & bright blue' and our youngest (Anabella) wants.. Gold.

Heh.

We thankfully convinced each child to choose more...subtle...colors. Sam & Bella settled on pink & grey and Julie was happy with 'Purplicilous' & an accent wall of 'Midnight Purple'...and I convinced hubby Jon to get a few cans of a really pretty grey for our kitchen. While the poor paint mixer-guy was tinting our 354 gallons of paint, we set off to get brushes, pans, and more. We discovered there is actually glitter that can be mixed in paint... Who knew?!?! After Jon telling me the girls 'NO' to the glitter..several times..., $283.00, & a new Lowes credit account later, we were all set (and paint mixer-guy was exhausted)!

The paint and all of its equipment sat in the trunk if my van for a week. Shameful? Yes. Apparently, buying the supplies was enough to stress us out. Finally, I decided enough was enough and it was time to get these rollers rolling! HA! You see, my husband is apparently a painting expert. He's watched enough HGTV to know exactly how this needs to go down. 'First, we have to remove the wallpaper, then we have to sand the walls, then we have to prep the walls. Then, we wipe down the walls. Then. We paint.' Heeeeeeeeeerrreee we go.

The girls and I removed the wallpaper easily as it was painted over. There was one wall that needed some extra attention. By 'extra attention', I mean 'Sara has to sand wallpaper border off using a powerful power-tool sander thingy that causes three days of horrid pain to her body because she's out of shape.' So, there's that. After the pain subsided (seriously.. days after initial sanding started), it was time to paint. YES!! I climbed up the step-stool armed with a brush and Purplicious. I was prepared to start 'cutting the ceiling' when Jon walked in.

Clearly. I was doing this all wrong. Wrong brush. Wrong angle. Wrong stance. If you don't do it right-you'll hit the ceiling & if you hit the ceiling, we have to paint the WHOLE ceiling. Good grief. After being taught how to paint correctly (and caught rolling my eyes a few times), I was off to painting! I was free! YES!! Jon helped for awhile & eventually went to start supper. Free to perfect my painting expertise, I was left alone to my Purplicious thoughts. Deep in concentration (on my country music radio station on iTunes)... I was brushing and dipping. Dipping and brushing. Then. Hit happened.

To my horror. Purplicious hit the ceiling. It was a hard hit. One that stung deeper than the purple hues glisting on the popcorn textures above. Oh..my..goodness. Crap. He's obviously going to see the horrid, horrid spot. Think, Sara..THINK! I wracked my brain as to what to do. So.. I did what anyone would do. I kept painting. Hopefully, he won't notice. It's not 'too' noticeable. I mean, people make mistakes.

I did it again. I hit the friggin ceiling again!! This hit was in the corner, opposite of the last one. Like two Purplicious horns, just glaring at me. So.. I stopped painting and came down for supper. Hey. A girl works up an appetite making that many mistakes! *He still hasn't mentioned the marks..

A few days go by...again. While I was at work, Jon was at home and decided to get some of his own painting done. He called me about halfway through the accent wall and mentions how Bella's been admiring the pink paint is on Julie's wall. Wait. Pink. Julie.. He painted the wall the wrong friggin color. Face.Palm. He was so upset with himself, he set things down, shut the door, and walk away. When I came home, I thought I'd be productive & finally get this room done. Purplicious was finally on all three walls (and the ceiling).

Time to figure out the pink fourth wall. Julie mentioned it would be pretty in stripes.. soooooo creative me decided to Google 'How to paint stripes on walls'. Google makes it look so easy. I measured & taped the horizontal stripes & went to painting. Jamming to my music, I was feeling good about this project! Then.. Julie comes in & sweetly says 'I meant stripes going the other way'.

Oooooooooof course you did. I was so upset. I tried to ignore her comment and kept dipping & rolling..suddenly..we both heard it. The drip heard 'round the world'. I was literally pouring Midnight Purple all over the carpet. A puddle, in fact. Insert panic: here. I could hear Jon's voice echoing in my head 'should've used a drop cloth'. I wanted to cry. So, again, I did what anyone would do. I poured carpet cleaner on the puddle, cleaned it as best I could. I closed the door and walked away.