My little Urban Farm is thriving beautifully. The zucchini is delicious, the broccoli was beautiful (until it was overrun with aphids), the tomatoes are ripening, the celery was totally bitter but looked great, the artichokes are small but tasty, the olallieberries were bountiful (everyone will be getting jam again for Christmas. Felicidades.), we have ONE fig on our tiny little fig tree, and the chickies are full grown and have made the transition from dining room to backyard. Thank God. Jett and Zona love their little chickie brood and can often be seen rubbing noses and licking their little feathered friends in greeting. It's rather darling. We found a local chicken coop builder and bought the CUTEST coop made from all reclaimed materials. I would like him to build me a house just like it. And Dave enclosed the bottom section of the kids' play structure (you know where the sand is supposed to go but really it's just dirt) with chicken wire and a gate so we have an enclosed chicken run. Our white silkie turned out to be a rooster and here's the story on that.
One night I was having trouble sleeping; tossing and turning well past midnight. Emerson, who had recently watched a very scary movie thanks to his brother, was back and forth between our bed and his terrifying room of shadows and "scary noises". I'd finally had it up to "here" with the nonsense and sent him to sleep with his sisters. Not long after, still lying awake in my bed, I heard a blood curdling shriek coming from the general vicinity of the girls' room. It was a horrible, horrifying sound of the likes I had never heard. I shook Dave awake and said, "Honey, I just heard a terrible noise." Naturally, he responded, "Well, you better go check it out." Let's take a quick time out here. Dave is an amazing husband and father. He provides for our family perfectly. But, when it comes to any nighttime occurrence, I'm on my own. It all started when we had babies and due to his general lack of boobs he was deemed rather useless when it came to the nighttime activity of nursing babies back to sleep. He quickly learned to tune out all nighttime noises. He makes no apologies for this, and I've come to respect it about him. At least one of us will be well rested in the morning. Besides if there really is something threatening my kids in the middle of the night then I'm the mama bear for the job. An intruder would stand nary a chance against me protecting my kids in the middle of the night. I'm a frightening (and impressive) force if my kids are threatened. So I jumped out of bed feeling badly for berating Emerson for his fears because clearly we did have a demon in our house. Who knew? I ran through the dark house to the girls' room, shouting in a whisper, "EMERSON?" Straight to the bed that he was sharing with Soli only to find two peacefully spooning angels. Evie snored softly in the upper bunk. Again, the shrieking. This time coming from behind me. In the kitchen? I turned on all the lights as I moved cautiously through the kitchen to the dining room. I stood quietly in the doorway, waiting. And then again the terrible noise. It sounded like a child crying out during a night terror. Or a baby goat bleating. Have you heard that sound? Creepy. Think Silence of the Lambs. But then I saw him. In the dog crate that had come to house our brood of chicks. Back lit by the heat lamp in the corner of the dining room. Standing as tall as could on his fluffy feathered feet. Our white silkie.....rooster! And I couldn't help but laugh right out loud as he puffed up his feathery chest and lifted his scrawny little chicken wings and let it rip. The most ridiculous (and terrifying) cock-a-doodle I'd ever heard.
The next day, Dave stumbled across a Craigslist Ad. "Wanted: A Silkie Rooster". We saw it as a sign from the Patron Saint of Urban Farms. So we called the number and after I was thoroughly satisfied that our little Peck-a-Choo wouldn't be used for any Devil Worshipping, Barb-e-quing, or Cock Fighting activities (people must think I'm crazy) we struck a deal. And as sad as we were to part with our little white silkie he is now happily cock-a-doodling on a real life Rural Farm. And the farm mistress promised us a couple of his chicks in the future. The End.
And here are some of my favorite summer snapshots.
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| We took Emerson and pals paint balling in June for Em's 11th. |
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| I thought this rock in Montana looked like a badger. |
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| Cole the fire master lighting all the kids' sparklers on the 4th of July in Montana. |
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| Cole getting up close and personal (to my dismay) with an elk in Yellowstone. |
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| Dave and I celebrated 15 years of marriage in July. |
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| Rocky Mountain 4th of July. |
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| We took the kids to Montana for two weeks in July. Here we are waiting for the parade down the main street in Ennis. |
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| In front of Gibbon Falls in Yellowstone. Cole was having time out up the trail. |
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| Painted ponies in Montana. |
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| Cole and Soli in front of the Madison river. |
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| Ahhh. Summer. |
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| Evie, fly fishing, and a full moon in front of the Fishing Shack in Montana. |
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| We opted to take a "short cut" on the way home from Montana. 120 miles of dirt roads (and small creeks we had to drive through). We didn't see a single other vehicle for 3 hours. I wasn't sure if we'd make it out alive. Thankfully, we had a full tank of gas and a reliable vehicle. Pesky iphones and their navigation apps. |
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| Houseboating and "wake surfing" with the cousins. |
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| Family reunion 2011. That's me in the purple with my parents and five younger siblings. |
I hope you've all had a lovely summer. Ours is almost up. Cole starts his first day of high school on Wednesday. Go Cowboys!
