don’t want to mess about with words. Photos above describe his morning.
Below is a photo I took of Otto delicately enjoying one of our roast chickens.
First, check out that herd! Glorious. Normally we are on fire warming the house because winter is coming. … but not this year. Too warm. Though, I have maintained the “warm room” in case we suddenly drop below double digits.
A mother friend of mine ( three kids, nobel gal ) and I had an exchange. I forgot something or stumbled and told her, “baby head” because sometimes with so many lives to raise, you forget things. Simple things, like the price per kilo of the beef you are selling. And she told me this, which I hold dear to my heart, ” don’t worry, when the youngest turns six … you get your head back.” … or something like that. WHAT?! I get my head back? For some reason, I thought I was supposed to get my head back when they turn three or four. SIX? Are you serious?
Now, I’ve had my head on pretty well, but I must admit, as my youngest turns six in a week, I’m firing on all cylinders. WAIT! We can do this! and then this! Why haven’t we done that?! Clear as day. Only partially the way through raising people, lots of experience with the bubbles. Now trending the tweens and teens. … Baby Head is a thing of the past. Now, we need to get these kiddies to be good people.
I won’t lie, I got caught up in the election. But politics aside, we keep on keeping on. Cows need new grass, water bowl needs to be moved, chickens need to be fed. No change there.
We are working through stock pile grass. Brown on top … green underneath. This is the season when the grass gets greener as the herd munches on.
Ms. Mouse is a household celebrity. She has persuaded us that this soft pile of warm is what you want. “Oh … and I kill vermin.” Ms Mouse cracked and ate a mouse in two minutes, tail and all. Perhaps you’ve seen her Twitter account. Alt-Cat.
The dogs keep it real. They want so much to be in the field, but really not a good idea … says the farmer’s wife. So they keep the angry birds off the chickens. They do a good job.
We are shifting a lot of chickens at the moment. Tasty, juicy birds. You can feed your family with one of our birds. Even better, our kids help out. They help out with the cows as well, but to their chagrin, most cow work happens during school hours.
Dude in the middle with all the characters around him/her. Though these are not fictitious characters, I didn’t invent them, we created them. But I have to be quick because they come back from school in t minus forty. So much going on. So much farm movement. We took a few photos last night … night … like five or six in the evening … but this one was funny to me. Aside from my expression, our children spontaneously acted out my thoughts. Not my immediate thoughts … my thoughts over time. Minty’s expression threw me, because I didn’t know I had tall doll thoughts. She looks like a tall doll. … but I think she is trying to gather the family expression back to normal.
Me: just wait for them
Z: AaAH. wait!? then what am I supposed to do? like just wait for a teensy, teensy, teensy, teensy bit? ug
Z: that’s too much teensy
I’ve been to Bordeaux many, many times delivering beef. We deliver grass-fed beef and pastured chicken to Bordeaux. It is such a beautiful city while I wait for my peeps. I love hanging out. So many bridges. So many people. Someday, I’m going to walk across that bridge, have a coffee and absorb what the heck is going on with this grande ville.
We found a great spot for delivery ( thanks, Sean ). Available by train or bus. Easy access by car. Wednesday. Pont de Pierre
On the same Wednesday, Brent delivers to Toulouse. Now, I’m not competitive … okay so I’m competitive, Toulouse is quick to collect the beef and chickens. We give Bordeaux a head-start with the mail, but Toulouse is winning at the moment.
It’s a tight race, but we can spread the word. With that Bordeaux chess board above, I see our next move. We’ll be back in four weeks. Sign-up. Forward our mail. Show up for samples. I’m there, bring a friend!
Our birds live life with the sun, the rain, the cold and the “what’s the weather like today?” They eat bugs, worms, alfalfa leaves and grass.
Today, we moved some birds to the pasture. Our thespian children helped. After taking a photo or two, I felt confident that Brent and I could make this whole operation go quicker without them … but not as many laughs. So, I went back to my tasks and left Brent and the kiddies to it.
The pups want so much to be a part, but they waited patiently for us to return.
Lucy, who is not short … no really … okay, I think she is short, but not by French standards … shows us our chook tower.
Otto and Lucy pop the chicks in their new home. One lot at a time. Brent moved two to their one. You see, the taunting and trash talking between these two slows down the operation.
… leading artwork by Otto Curtis, age five ( at the time ). We both said it was a duck, but now think he painted a chick.