Denise Domning writes, makes jelly and watches the weeds overtake her garden on her 8 acre farm in Cornville while tending to her 100 turkeys, 3 cows, 20-some chickens, 2 dogs and 8 cats.
When I say "free water" I do not mean the stuff that's been falling from the skies so copiously of late. Although that free water is really nice and has saved me much time dragging hoses and running sprinklers this summer, the free water I'm talking about is the water that comes from the spring, my drinking water. Having that sort of free water is the kind of thing that makes real estate agents sing. They might tell me things like "You will have more water than you know what to do with" and "You'll have water forever."
Yesterday afternoon, we had the storm of the summer. I hope.
It's been quite a couple of weeks for predators out here. This is because something large--the mountain lion, I assume--killed something equally as large between my fence and the creek. (Of course, the mystery writer in me spun a completely different story. Morbid is now my middle name.)
India isn't the only place where Monsoons are a given. Northern Arizona has its own rainy season and it started with a bang last Friday. Well, not a bang as much as multiple crashes of thunder.
For anyone uncomfortable with the idea of animals being slaughtered for meat, you may want to skip this post. I promise there will be nothing graphic, just a difficult description and a little sadness.
Don't ask me why the title of that movie (The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie) came into my mind as I looked at the little black hen sitting on nine turkey eggs. It just did. From that moment on, she became Miss Jean Broody to me.
Yes, that is a picture of dirt. Well, not dirt. It’s compost, specially made for me by piglets and chickens.
Once again, I lost a day. Monday whizzed by while I was caught in the early 13th Century, researching just how long a Medieval courser can gallop on summer-dried ground. "Arcane" is my middle name. (Not really, but I'm not about to reveal my middle name to anyone. I hate it.) Oh, and I finally found the "soundtrack" to this new book.
Oh man, and I thought the sheep were a ravening horde! They got nothing on piglets. Today the eight of them decimated my new chard on my new hugel. When they were done eating greens, they did a little tilling for me, although not quite where I needed it.
This is a hard post to write. However, I feel if I don't write it I'd be painting a false picture of farming life. Last week was a week of death.