Last chicks, Shocking update, 12 years, Wrapped in Rain

Our last batch of almost 1000 chicks arrived to the farm and got settled in the brooder this week. No chicken killing this week. We’ve harvested birds every week in July and most weeks in June. Instead of processing chickens, we spent that time sorting chicken inventory in the freezers. With only 3 or 4 harvest dates left, we’re trying to make sure we have enough chicken parts stocked up to fill chicken shares through the off season. If you want a year-round supply of local pasture raised chicken, now’s the time to sign up.

Hasten mentioned the other day that he’s tired of moving chickens. I didn’t tell him that I’m getting there too. A leak in the water line was just what we needed to get out of daily monotony of chicken chores. Water shot through the leaky hose like a sprinkler. The kids ran through it playing until they were ringing wet. They enjoyed it so much that I didn’t repair it for 3 days. Hasten said, “Dad, can you never fix that hose? Cause if you never fix it, we’ll never get bored.” 

The power went out for a few hours early in the week while I was putting up the wire in a new paddock for the pigs in the woods. Usually moving pigs comes with a series of hooking up and unhooking electric fence wires. Get the new paddock hot, make the old paddock not, and preferably without getting myself shocked. With the power out, none of the wires were hot, so I wouldn’t have to bother with unhooking anything. Or so I thought. With my hands wrapped around the wires getting the new paddock ready, the power came back on. It about knocked my socks off. Ha. Amy was not sympathetic. She thought it was hilarious. Thankful for electricity to keep fences hot and freezers running (although I wish it didn’t cost so much). 

Amy and I celebrated our 12th anniversary on Sunday. I forgot to get her a card. We rested and took it easy, about like any other Sunday afternoon. My mom offered to keep the kids one evening this week to give us a chance to go on an anniversary date. We took her up on keeping the kids, but instead of going out to eat, we stayed at home and splurged on some ORVF New York strip steaks with fresh veggies from the backyard garden to go with them. It’s been a good 12 years. Thankful for Amy and her willingness to go all in, not just with me but with this whole farm life thing. We’re in it all together. 

Amy’s been keeping the broth going in the on-farm kitchen, while consistently communicating with customers during a busy herd share renewal period. It’s a stressful season for her, but we’re thankful for your all’s continued trust. She’s also been keeping the cabins clean as people keep coming to the valley for a relaxing getaway. With any other spare time, she’s been researching and planning out this coming homeschool year which will be starting before we know it. 

Thankful for more rain keeping the grass growing. While mowing around the house, the barn, and the cabins, I’ve been listening to “Wrapped in Rain” by Charles Martin. Here’s a few quotes:

“I want to tell you a secret… Life is a battle, but you can’t fight it with your fists… you got to fight it with your heart… If your knuckles are bloodier than your knees, then you’re fighting the wrong battle.” 

“For Mut, the voices came and went, but mostly they came.”

“Physically, he’s as healthy as an ox. Mentally, who knows? After 40 years, the most I can say is that we’re all fallen people in a fallen world. Mut’s just fallen where others haven’t. When I get before God, which should be before the rest of you, I’ve got a few questions.” 

“This is a house fit for God… We may not agree on all the theology, but they’re reading the words in red and doing them.” 

“I’d be lying if I said I really forgave you, but maybe if I say it with my mouth, my heart will follow. I don’t know how long that’ll take, that passage from my head to my heart… Whatever the case, here today I’m saying it with my mouth. And everyday from here on out, I’m saying it because there’s more at steak here than just you and me.”

“I didn’t have to ask Ms. Ella if she loved me. I knew. She told me everyday but seldom used words. From the age of five, Ms. Ella taught me how to spell love, and I’ve never forgotten it. It’s spelled T-I-M-E.”

Have a good week.

Will

amy campbellComment