The Day I Saved a Mouse's Life

As you may know from previous posts, I despise mice. They really just freak me out. It might be their sneakiness, or their ability to show up just about anywhere. And yesterday, I accidentally spared the life of a mouse.

But first - for the story to make sense, I must tell you that we have baby ducks on our farm! Cute, adorable little ducklings that I whole-heartedly love!

I love these little ducklings so much that I have claimed them as my own! Luke was shocked when I said I wanted them to be my job! They are mine to raise and to take care of daily. This is pretty simple - give them food and water and change their bedding every few days. And just sit and indulge in their pure adorableness. I may regret this spontaneous decision in the winter, but for right now I am thrilled!

Yesterday I was keeping a  very close eye on my sixteen sweet little ducklings. I went inside to give Henry a snack, and I heard a cheeping, that seemed to belong to the ducks. "Oh no," I thought. "One got out!" I quickly ran outside with Henry and panicked to see that a little duckling was running in the chicken coop! Now, pecking orders are real things - chickens will peck a bird to death if it is not one of their own - their size. So I legitimately panicked, and quickly called "Help - anybody! Someone watch Henry so I can save the duck!"

The hilarious part that I then noticed, the full-grown chickens were terrified of the baby duck! The duckling was lost and therefore running all around, and the chickens were running from it, terrified! I couldn't believe this because I have watched chickens catch, and eat, mice.

Luke and Derek came to watch Henry and laugh at the site of grown chickens hiding from a duckling. I went into the coop and grabbed the little duck and returned her to her home, safe with her other ducklings.

Well, last night I was washing dishes, looking out my kitchen window which has a great view of the chicken coop and fence, and I noticed a big hub-bub among the chickens! I also heard a faint little cheeping noise! "Oh no!" Another little duckling. I sprinted outside and my fear wasn't imagined - a little duckling was hanging from a chicken's mouth, so I thought. All the other chickens were swarming the one who had it, trying to steal it away, so it was hard to get a good look. I sprinted over to the fence and scared the chickens and they released the duckling. I could see it ran under a board, but that was it.

As if that wasn't enough, our vicious hunter Murtle was right there, ready to pounce. I knew I would have to act fast before her claws caught on to my little duckling. I lifted up the board, and a MOUSE sprinted away. Ugh! I ran into the duck coop and counted - all 16 ducklings were in there, safe and huddled together under the heater. Thankful, I walked out of the coop, happy to have all 16 ducklings, but so irritated that I saved the life of a mouse. Murtle chased the mouse - I am pretty sure she wouldn't let it get away, she is a quick cat!

Farmland, Part 2: Tradition

As you recall, last week Luke and I took a little date night to see the documentary "Farmland." The documentary filled me with a sense of pride, ownership, and love that I had not felt for our farm in a long time. Why did it take a documentary about people I do not know to restore those feelings in me? Why did I lose my pride in the farm? How did this come about?

I believe the reason this all occurred was because of loneliness. Farming requires countless hours spent in the fields, in the greenhouses, in the wash shack. Luke works incredible hours. It means, for the greater part of our marriage, I have spent a lot of time alone. In the past, I would join Luke in the fields - bring him a beer and chat as the sun set around us. During the school year, I was surrounded in my own immense workload, and so times when I had to pick peppers until sunset were frustrating, but also meant time together.  I could be in the fields with Luke, or chat in the basement while he watered sprouts; it wasn't as lonely, it didn't seem so separated.

The factor that changed this year was Henry. Henry is my world, he is everything. He is my greatest blessing, my heart completed. But as far as parenting the first year, there is not a lot of give and take. Rather, it is one great give-a-thon. And I love it. But, it has caused me to be a lot more home-bound than I ever have been before. I am a social butterfly - I love to be with other people, I like to conversate and share. For me, to be tied to my home, has been difficult. This, combined with one of the worst winters, followed by one of the worst springs that I can recall, has meant that I spend a great amount of time inside with Henry, while Luke works outside. I have great conversations with Henry, but they are pretty one sided. And so I have become lonely - lonely and longing for more quality time with Luke. And this loneliness has caused me to hold a grudge against the farm. But I cannot continue having that sentiment, because our farm is truly something to treasure and love.

Farmland helped remind me that I need to take pride in our life. I wrote in my last post about the beauty of the farm, how wonderful of a place it will be to raise our children. Another great principal that "Farmland" reminded me of was tradition. That farms carry with them a great deal of familial tradition. I was reminded of that great essence of tradition today on our farm.

Luke started the produce portion of our farm, but Luke's father and grandfather started a Christmas tree farm many years ago. A farm that has provided thousands of children with smiles as they have awoken to their presents appear on Christmas morning. A farm that has allowed hundreds of families to continue their holiday tradition.

Christmas tree farms are a lot of work. The work varies throughout the year: grinding stumps in the spring, planting new seedlings, fertilizing, picking pine cones, shearing trees, and finally, preparing to give the trees their home for the holiday. Today, I was reminded of the great familial tradition of farms. Today, Luke's grandfather, grandmother, father, and Luke planted the seedlings that in 6-8 years will be lit up with both lights and with smiles on Christmas morning. Luke's mom was watching Henry while I worked, so we both arrived to the farm after the planting was already done. But, then the greatest part of the tradition occurred.

Luke's grandparents, parents, Luke and I gathered in the front yard of his grandparents. We sat on the chairs, watching the cars driving bar. We talked casually, we reflected on our days. Old-fashioneds or beers in our hands, we sat; men to the left and women on the right. Tobshu panting eagerly, playing more fetch than he had in months. And, this year, our greatest new addition - Henry, crawling on the ground, walking along the wagon, showing off his near-readiness to take his own first steps without anyone or anything helping. I sat there, listening to and partaking in the conversation, but also thinking about what a great tradition we have on our farm. A tradition that we get to share with each other, a tradition that we get to share with Henry. Farms are a beautiful place to raise a family, they are also rooted in beautiful tradition. And for that, I am also grateful.

Farmland, Part 1

I fell in love last night. With what, you might ask?

Luke and I had a date night. The fact that we went on a date during the spring is surprising - the fact that it was on a weeknight was even more surprising. What could pull Luke away from the farm you might ask? Earlier in the week I saw an ad that a documentary entitled "Farmland" would be playing for one night only at the movie theater. It seemed like something Luke would like, so I watched the trailer. The trailer made the documentary look awesome, so I asked Luke to go with me. (View the Trailer here: http://www.farmlandfilm.com/#trailer).

As Luke and I drove to the movie theater, it was quite obvious we were cutting in close on time. Running late, as usual. Why do farmers always run late???

 I said to Luke "Well, there will probably be a lot of farmers in the audience. They might as well start the movie 5 minutes late so that everyone will technically be on time." Luke chuckled, and agreed. He told me that by always running late, he was adding years to my life. I disagreed, saying the stress of perpetually running late was taking years off my life. His argument was that knowing that no matter what, we will be late, means I never have to stress about being on time. Faulty logic, but I suppose I would stress less if I didn't hold myself to the notion that being on time is incredibly important. Or, I could just do what I do now, and blame Luke!

 The documentary was excellent. The film acknowledges that farming is a relatively old profession, but yet that we need young people to return to farming to keep the farming tradition alive. The movie celebrates the work, the lives, of 6 young farmers. One thing I loved about it is that it didn't bash any type of farming. So many farming movies these days ("Food, Inc." for example) promote one side of agriculture while bashing the other. I loved that "Farmland" celebrated all types of farmers: the small-scale CSA farmer, the large- scale organic farmer, the cattle rancher, the pig farmer, the chicken farmer, the GMO cash crop farmer. It didn't push judgment against any one type. The farmers in the video even said while they prefer their own method of farming, their job is not to bash other farmers. I very much respect that and appreciated that about this documentary.

So, why did I fall in love last night? Because the video filled me with a lot of pride for the farm, pride and love that I haven't had in awhile. I have been very apathetic toward the farm in the past year. I did a lot of reflecting on that during and after the video. I could write a short novel on it - so I will spread out my digestion, and my overcoming, of my apathy over a few blog posts.

One reason the video filled me with pride was to see all the farmers and their young children (4 of the 6 farmers had little girls and boys.) To see them riding on the tractors with their dad, the love they had for the farm, to see their squeals when they opened up a toy John Deere combine for Christmas. I can already picture that for Henry. Henry loves to grab his toy tractor and push it all around our house. I can see how wonderful it will be to have Henry grow up on a farm. The smile that forms when he goes to look at the pigs running around the pasture. The manner in which the fussy boy settles down when he listens to the clucks and calls of our chickens. Henry has his own little mini petting zoo that he is growing up on. I can't wait until this summer, to see him explore the farm for the first time. To watch him munch on a cherry tomato right off the vine, grab off a cucumber and enjoy it right there in the fields. This fall when he will be staining his hands red with the juice of a raspberry as he picks them with his mom. Wiping the dirt off his knees from falling in the fields when he runs to visit his dad. I can picture it, and it is beautiful.

This is a picture that I took of Henry when he was watching the pigs run around their pasture. The pure joy on his face. And on Luke's. If that isn't a reason to love farmland.....

....To be continued....