Homecoming!

Well, this post is out of order with my last one, but my nerves and energy has settled enough to be able to blog this happy post: Banjo has returned! It was 8 days after his official departure, and I had all but given up hope! In the week he was missing, I had walked the yard calling him, set out extra food, and had the boys look around, and he never showed up. I was very, very sad and felt horrible for Murtle, who was quite lonely.

On Friday night, I was sitting at my kitchen table cutting up tomatoes for salsa, and when I looked out the window, I noticed a cat. At first I looked away, thinking it was Murtle, but then I realized it was a black cat, and I quickly rushed outside to confirm my thoughts. Banjo was home! I was so excited! I took pictures of his homecoming.

He and Murtle greeted each other happily:

Banjo came right up to me, and he was purring and happy to be home. I checked him over - he didn't have any injuries, but you could tell he was hungry. He ate over 1 cup of food and drank over a container of water.

But, considering he was gone for over a week, I couldn't believe nothing else was wrong with him. I quickly called Luke to share the news. I know people so you aren't supposed to get attached to outdoor cats, but Luke and I sure love those two little kitties! Here is a few more cute pictures I have to share:

: 

And my personal favorite:

Anyway, I just had to share the good news. Several people asked about him - at Farmer's Market, at CSA pick-up, on Facebook! It was wonderful to know so many people cared! Tobshu was even happy to see Banjo - they played a little together. And of course, just because I love him, a picture of Tobshu as well.

It was absolutely wonderful this evening to watch Murtle and Banjo wrestling around and playing as usual, I couldn't be happier about his sudden homecoming. I hope he learned his lesson and doesn't disappear again.

Mud Run - Pig Style

Recently, mud runs are getting a lot of press - from the "Warrior Dash" to the "Hot Mess Mud Run" to the "Warrior Princess Mud Dash" (which I'm actually doing in October), it seems like everyone wants to sign up for a race to get messy in. I thought I did too - as I said, I signed up for such a race in October. Unfortunately, I got to experience my very own mud run today, and it has left me with two large, broken blisters, a achy back, and a bruised mentality.

You see, Luke and I decided to have a little get-away this weekend, and go up north. This isn't easy to arrange. Luke went up Friday, and I stayed until Saturday morning to do the initial chores. Then I headed up yesterday for some R&R. I came back before Luke did, and I had great intentions for the day: balance my checkbook, laundry, a good meal, dust. I pulled into the driveway, got out of my car, and as I walked to the front door, I casually turned my head to the left. Right at that exact moment, two pigs were busting out of their fence.

My heart dropped. Getting pigs back in the pen with two people around is difficult, but it was just me, with no one around to help. I quickly through on my mud boots, grabbed a broom, and ran to get to work. It was horrible - chasing pigs isn't easy. One was frightened of me and took off toward Luke's fields. I corralled the other one into the gate, opened it, and in she ran. The other escapee seemed interested in me and my tactics after about 5 minutes, and also ran back up. Some shooing and pushing with a broom, and within 10 minutes I was able to get her back in the pen. Problem solved. I was full of mud on my pants (the pigs were muddy and running into me), and I was a little out of breath, more from anxiety than anything, but the problem was resolved.

I went up to the house, grabbed my phone, and told Luke to thank me, as "the pigs got out, and I got them all back in." I was just starting to tell him he owed me a trip to Gap, when the pigs escaped again. You see, I may have got them back in the pen, but I didn't fix the fence. The walked right back out, and my heart sunk. After herding them in once, the pigs decided they didn't like me all to much, and they took off. I would follow one pig, focus on one pig and the other would wander. I would get one pig back in, go to look for the other, and a different one would escape. It was horrible. I needed bodies. Luke kept calling me, asking for updates, anxious and telling me I couldn't lose the pigs (he wasn't really helping) and I cried and yelled and begged for help. But he was 2 hours away. I informed him of the situation at hand - 2 pigs in the pen, and a fixed fence (I thought), and one pig no where to be seen. The last I saw her, she was headed into the corn field.

I knew I needed to find her. I was muddy, sweaty, my face was tear-stricken, my feet were forming large blisters because I had on mud boots with no socks, and my morale was down. I knew I would have to find the pig but how? I had visions of her on the road, so I decided to hop into my car. Worst idea ever...even if I found the pig - what the hell would I do, put her in the car?! As I was backing up I realized I hadn't fixed the fence as well as I though and another pig got out, again. So the total was 2 out, 1 in, and a still-broken fence.

These aren't easy animals to corral. It was three 220 pound pigs versus me. Each big weighed nearly 100 pounds more than me, and what I lack in weight, I don't make up for in strength. Fortunately, the one pig seemed used to our "escape/capture" routine we had established, and was worked back into the pen in 5 minutes. I laid down some cement blocks to 'fix the fence,' and then continued looking. Then I knew what I had to do - follow the final pig's tracks through the mud in the corn field. I'm really freaked out by corn fields - they are so endless, so consuming, so hard to maneuver. But, I grabbed my broom and headed in. I was trying to sprint, following her tracks, getting bombarded over and over with wet leaves in my face, my arms. I was a mess - crying, stumbling, running with all my might. My feet ached, I felt my blisters tore open. My cats, Banjo and Murtle, were running along next to me, giving me assurance. (Yes! Banjo is back - I plan to blog about that too!) I made it to the end of the row, and followed the tracks, turning to the right, toward the road. It was so hopelessly silly and absurd, the pig was too far gone. I headed back to the house, hoping she would as well. By the time I got back to the pen, the worst was confirmed. In my chase for the third, the other two escaped. It turns out cement blocks aren't that hard for pigs to roll and that is what they did.

I returned to the empty pen, and I just cried. I called Luke balling, not knowing what to do. I couldn't be in two places at once - I couldn't get the pigs while also preventing the others from escaping. Luke told me help was on my way - he called some wonderful neighbors to assist me, and they would be there in 10 minutes. He told me to be calm, to stop chasing the pigs, and to just relax. Luke reminded me that animals sense emotion. While I pushed along the largest pig (the one who was on her first escape), the other two came bopping out of the corn field. I ran, grabbed some feed, and walked into the coop, and they followed me. Two down, one to go. Fortunately, James, Nancy and their son arrived, and corralled the final pig into the pen. I can't imagine what they thought of me - muddy, panting, crying. By their own goodness they didn't comment on my appearance.

And then I had what I needed - bodies! Two of them guarded the broken fence (and those pigs were just shoving, trying to get our), while their son and I went to get cement blocks. We loaded about 5 of them on, grabbed a long board, and went to fixing the fence. James thought we would need even more blocks, so I went back to our pile. The son was just about to grab a block when I noticed the wasp hive poking out of it. I stopped him just in time - and even though we were very close, the hornets didn't move. I'm pretty sure God knew we had enough to handle at that point in time. We barricaded the fence, and then they left - I couldn't thank them enough. I used a handsaw to cut the pigs some branches to play with, and then I just froze. My tears were openly flowing - the anxiety of the experience all coming out. I had arrived home at 11:15, the pigs were finally all contained and fence fixed by 1:00. 1 hour and 45 minutes of immense stress, frustration, and anxiety. It was horrible.

I had to take care of the rest of the chickens and do chores, and my blisters were just throbbing. I put on a pair of Luke's socks to help. When I was done, I finally called Luke, who was on his way home. I cried and cried. I don't think I can convey in words how stressful that was. I also informed him that I planned on charging $1 per minute of stress during that time - which means he owes me either a $105 shopping spree to the Gap, or a fancy dinner!

After staring at the pigs, hoping they wouldn't escape, and after calling my sister to calm me down, I decided to take a nice, hot shower. I was filthy, sweaty, and exhausted. Unfortunately, the shower wasn't that soothing because my blisters that had ripped open were not fond of the hot water. I suffered through it though, and eventually the pain went away. Once Luke was home, we made some permanent fixes to the fence. Those pigs leave in a week, they will be butchered. Quite frankly, I won't mind to see them go. They each probably burned off 10 pounds today with all the running they did. Pigs are fast! As for me, I've had enough with mud runs for a very, very long while.

"Get Home!"

In the past two days, the phrase "Get Home" has been shouted to me, desperately requested to me, and even thought by me. Each time a different scenario, and right now, 2 for 3 on positive out comes.

The first incident was on Sunday. We were helping our in-laws move, and their new house happens to only be 7 minutes from ours! We were unloading a bunch of stuff, I was working on the small, light items, and Luke was helping with the brute work - the chest freezer, the washing machine, the dryer. All of a sudden, Luke came outside and said "Mel, the sky looks really dark and the radar shows rain. One of us has to get home, now, to cover garlic." You see, we harvested 5 pallets worth of garlic, and we are in the drying process right now, which takes about 4 weeks. But, if the garlic gets rained on at all, it halts the drying process and can even cause rot. Therefore, we have been working very had to assure this doesn't happen. I ran to my car, jumped in, and headed home.

As I was driving, I could literally see the rain coming down ahead. I know it was close to our farm - how close, that I wasn't sure. I was driving a decent amount above the legal speed limit, but I needed to get home quickly. As I was working my way down County Rd B, the sprinkles started to hit my windshield, and I could literally see the downpour coming. I pulled a pretty highly technical turn onto our road, and probably kicked up a decent amount of rocks on our gravel driveway. I grabbed the tarps and threw them over the garlic, and then the downpour hit. It was literally perfect timing. I didn't do it all as skillfully as it sounds - I did trip over a cement block and cut up my leg - but that is pretty standard for me. I had to put weights on the tarp as I was getting poured on, but the garlic was dry, and that is what mattered. I then rushed around in the rain, closing the garage, putting the four-wheeler away, putting the lawn mower away. Of course, once I was finally done, the very brief rain shower had stopped and the sun was back out. 

The second time I heard "Get Home" was last night. I was at school, working with an AP Biology teacher from a different district, doing some lesson planning together. Ironically, he was Luke's former biology teacher from high school, but it was a smooth transition from former teacher to colleague. All of a sudden my school phone rang, and when I answered I could hear the desperation in Luke's voice. "Mel, I'm so sorry to do this, I know it will screw up your planning, but a pig is out and I need help. Can you please get home and help me?" He sounded so urgent and panicked. When the pigs get lose, it is very important they don't get into the corn field, or we may not get them back. I looked at my colleague, apologized, said I would be back as soon as possible, and then literally sprinted out of the building and drive quickly home once again. Thank goodness it's a small town and I work close to where I live. 

I pulled into the driveway, leaped out of the car for the second day in a row, and found Luke, corralling the pig back towards the pig pen. The pig didn't want to go back in, so I helped by opening the pig pen door, then providing a block so that the only place for her to go was back in. Of course once she was in there, she was content and fine. I threw some pig food at them, and then went back to school. Crisis averted.

The last "Get home," came from me. Banjo, our little black cat, is missing. The picture is him as a little kitten. Banjo and Murtle always spend their days perusing the farm, looking for mice and enjoying their day. They return every night for some food, wrestle each other, and sleep on the lawn furniture. They always join us for a campfire. They typically munch again in the morning, and then head out for another day. But, the last I saw Banjo was Thursday night, and now I'm starting to panic. He never is away from home for this long. 

The last I saw Banjo, was Thursday night. I was cleaning out the mudroom, and he was being pesky as usual. Trying to sneak in every time I opened the door, and climbing the screen all the way to the top when the door wasn't open. Every trip I made to the garbage he followed me, rubbing up against my legs and cuddling. I would lightly scratch between his ears every time, but I never stopped to really pick him up and pet him, because I was busy and figured I could the next day. And I haven't seen him since. I didn't give it much thought until Sunday, and then by yesterday I was feeling pretty helpless and sad. The worst part is seeing Murtle last night and this morning, just sitting there, "meowing," calling to her friend that she normally wrestles with every night. She looks so sad and lonely, and it breaks my heart. I shed quite a tear over Banjo  yesterday. I know he could still show up, cats do wander, but my hope is starting to disappear. Neither Luke nor Austin saw Banjo in the fields yesterday, which is very, very unusual. That is his hunting grounds. All I can do now is hope he is okay, and pray for him to "get home." 

A Fresh Coat

I know what you all thinking - apparently the Farmer's Wife fell off the tractor and is now incapable of typing. I know - it's been a long time since I've blogged. Not having a laptop really infringed on that - I don't find myself with a computer on my lap every night, which is rather nice, actually. But there is happenings on the farm that I suppose I should be updating you all on.

Summer has been going well. We are in the heat of the season right now - which means we have vegetables coming out of our ears. Luke is incredibly busy, but he is doing a great job, and I am proud of him, as always. Sometimes I look around in wonder at all the food and everything he does and just ponder how he does it...he really knows his stuff. Definitely something to be proud of.

My mom and I painted our mudroom on Friday, and it looks awesome! We put a deep gray on the walls, and then painted the doors bright lime green! It sounds out there, but it is beautiful, and I love it! Even though it is a room that is often dirty and cluttered, it feels good to have a fresh coat in there. Maybe with some new paint, we will work to keep it a little cleaner!

But that's not the only reason I named this post "A Fresh Coat." As you all know from my old posts, summer gets busy, and with stress comes arguments and frustrations. Last week I found myself with something I rarely have - time off. Sure, I'm a teacher so I have summers off, but I am not a person who likes to have idle time. If I have a lot of free time, I get lazy, more than anything. So, I teach summer school, attend conferences and summer academies, and with all that, I found that my first true week off of school arrived last week. I was actually looking forward to the time off - and had 4 "To Do" lists to occupy my time. But I needed to make it clear to Luke that just because I was around for two weeks, it didn't mean he could bombard me with more work. I explained that it was my "January." Luke has two weeks in January that still require him to do a little work, but he gets to sleep in, relax, catch up on things he wants to, go ice fishing. I was in desperate need of my "January," so I politely requested that I didn't want extra work beyond my typical farm duties.

Well, within the first day he already gave me 60 extra pounds of tomatoes to can. Then there was a few extra deliveries. And then some other favors. And by the end of Tuesday, I was wondering what happened to my "January." I hadn't crossed a thing off my to do list, I felt lost in the farm, burdened by stress, and yearning for some downtime with my husband. I went to my father-in-law for some very solid advice, and he definitely helped me see a brighter side, and look for some alternatives for Luke and I. But on my drive home, I did some further reflecting. I realized that I was looking at the negatives a little too much, focusing on what was wrong rather than focusing on what was right - and it caused both Luke and I to be burdened by stress.

So I went home, and I read the poem that my brother read for Luke and my wedding. It says to "Focus on what is right between you, rather than that which seems wrong. In this way, you can ride our the storms when clouds hide the sun in your lives, remembering that even if you lose sight of it for a moment, the sun is still there...." It goes on - and it is a beautiful poem. After talking with my father-in-law, and letting the words of the poem come back to me, I decided to let my self roll with optimism instead of realism. I looked at all the great things happening, and I went into each day with a smile. And the next two days, Luke was incredibly positive too - without me even saying anything to him. He was goofy, less stressed, happier. So I kept it up, tried to avoid discussing the stress and the amount of work. Rather than talk about it, I just worked at it. And what I've found in the past week is that if I keep my positive attitude, it really rubs off on Luke. We are eating lunches together and laughing, goofing around and watching movies, throwing rotten tomatoes at the other when they aren't looking, and it feels simply wonderful. It feels more care-free and fun than we have had all summer, and I'm loving it. It's interesting how much things change when you just try to give them a "fresh coat."