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Hi Everyone,
How many times do you plan your day and it goes nothing like you planned? I like to say that God knows just what is best for us to do each day—and last week was a perfect testament of that.
In the past Monday’s have been my gardening day—and Tuesday was reserved bottling kefir, making yogurt, harvesting veggies, and packaging eggs. Times change though—every day is egg packaging day now that we do not have help, and since I have to have the bread orders into the chef by noon on Monday I have to be inside answering emails for a few hours after we milk the cows. So I decided to: make yogurt on Mondays, make kombucha every other Monday, work on my salves on Monday’s, clean my bathroom on Monday’s. Then I can spend more time outside on Tuesday’s. Well last Monday I went to make kombucha—but Mama had used all the drinking water to fill up our water bottles. So I couldn’t make kombucha. I have needed to strain the herbs out of the oil for my Relief Salve for a few weeks—so I opened the drawer to grab some cheesecloth, but we were all out. I couldn’t make kombucha, and I couldn’t strain my salve oil. I did answer all the emails and then the weather outside was so perfectly beautiful that I decided to ignore my bathroom and I headed to the Cottage Garden to start prepping the bed to plant 80 gladiolus bulbs that we had just got in the mail. Mama worked in the courtyard flower garden and I worked in the Cottage Garden until around 2:00. When we came in I finished making the yogurt—for I did manage to get it started earlier that morning, and Mama fixed lunch. After lunch Mama wanted me to go to the bank with her—but we also wanted to go shopping at Hobby Lobby—BUT we needed to package eggs. We only had time to run to the bank and back home—or so we thought. Micah finished washing all the milking equipment around 2:30 (just when we were fixing to go to town). We decided to go ahead and package eggs and then go to town while Micah gathered the eggs and did a few other odds and ends chores. Papa was on an errand to get more alfalfa hay and milk jugs. It worked out much better and we were able to spend all the time in Hobby Lobby that we wanted—which meant we probably spent more money than we should have but we came home with the cutest little fence for our new Rose Garden in the front courtyard.
Tuesday morning we were welcomed by an email telling us that Micah would not be at work that day—and since it was also Steve’s day off it meant that Papa and I had to bottle the milk (Mama did help with that a little) and wash all the milking equipment. Mama couldn’t help with that because she was having shoulder problems and then to make matters worse the cow kicked her arm—the one attached to her bad shoulder. I was done milking my cows, but Mama still had a few cows to milk (she had come out later than me). When I am done milking my cows—I am done and just want to leave. Since Mama’s shoulder was giving her problems, and Micah was not there to catch any poo I decided to stick around. I was too impatient to just stand and watch so I decided that it would be best to help Mama milk her cows—but things didn’t go too smoothly as her claws kept dripping milk all over my clothes and then the cows stepped in the strip out bucket and splattered milk all over me. I was really done now! Mama said that she could finish and I headed inside to relax for a few minutes and drink a glass of kombucha. Ten to fifteen minutes later I returned to the milking parlor to find Mama holding her arm and crying. One of Mama’s cows had pooped in her stall and Mama was cleaning it up before she brought in her last cow—but Macy got impatient and broke through the hot wire gate and barged into her stall. The shovel startled her and instinctively she kicked out and made sharp contact with Mama’s forearm. The next day we found out that her shoulder was dislocated which is why it was hurting her so bad—and the cow kicking her only escalated the pain. Mama did manage to milk her cow still, and boy did I feel terrible when I came back and found Mama in such a predicament.
Later that day, after all the milking equipment was washed and we had eaten lunch, Papa pulled up some rotten posts in the courtyard where the Louis Phillipe roses grow. Four posts held rails that gave aesthetics to the roses, and one post held an antique school bell. Every few years they rot and have to be replaced. This time a metal pole will be replacing the bell post, and concrete and metal spikes will hold the other posts out of the dirt in hopes to make them last longer. In order to put the rose fence back up though—the roses needed to be pruned down. I had planned to return to the Cottage Garden to plant the gladiolus and I needed to harvest veggies for the JAX delivery on Wednesday, and we needed to package eggs—BUT instead I worked in the courtyard pruning about seven roses. It was time to cook dinner when I was done and my back was killing me—so I didn’t get the veggies harvested either. Papa had to go about 45 minutes away to get some alfalfa pellets for the cows, Mama’s arm was doing so poorly, and Micah was not there to help—so the eggs didn’t get done either. I did manage to get all the receipts made after dinner.
Thankfully Micah was back at work on Wednesday—and Steve was too. Micah was able to get the eggs caught up, and Steve was able to bottle the milk and wash the milking equipment. The rains and spring temperatures have allowed the grass to start growing and turning green. Papa took advantage of this and strung some hotwire netting across the front yard and let the sheep in to mow the lawn. They were very excited and it is nice to see the lambs up so close to the house.
Thursday was a rainy day! When Micah was finished with his morning chores—and in between rain showers he pulled up all the broccoli plants out of the Market Garden tunnel. They had all gone to flower and the bees loved them—but then the flowers went to seed and it was time to feed the plants to the chickens in order to make room for some summer squash. Then while it rained Micah packaged eggs and you remember that list from Monday—well, I got to spend some time inside making kombucha and folding a bunch of laundry. I also took care of paying the farm sales taxes—which didn’t go smoothly for computers sometimes have a mind of their own and companies think that changing their websites will make life easier. I beg to differ!
After lunch the sun came out and Micah and I headed to the Cottage Garden to plant the gladiolus. I had already weeded the bed so all I had to do was dig a trench and put the dirt in the wheelbarrow. Then Micah mixed the dirt with a bucket of manure compost while I set the bulbs strategically in the trench, and then he threw the soil back in the trench covering up the bulbs. While I planted some dianthus flowers in the gladiolus bed Micah weeded in the Market Garden and brought me a few buckets of mulch to cover the bed for weed prevention. At 3:45 Micah had to stop to go give the cows their afternoon alfalfa hay snack and gather the eggs. I was not ready to stop working in the garden so I asked him to please pick me up when he was all done. I weeded and trimmed the oregano.
I had one thing on my “To Do List” for Friday—work in the Cottage Garden, and that is exactly what I did. First off though I had to help Micah move four potted fig trees and a big rubber tub of irises so that he could mow around the milking parlor. The weeds are growing by leaps and bounds. The fig trees were always kept on the concrete beside the old Milk House, but when it was torn down they were moved to the side of the greenhouse. To my dismay I was not able to move them in for the winter because their roots grew through the holes in the bottom of the pot and rooted themselves strongly into the ground. I wanted to have them in their “Forever Home” by spring, but that has not happened. They are finally starting to leaf out and we decided to go ahead and pull them out of the ground and cut their roots—then see if they survived before we plant them in their “Forever Home”.
Saturday we were faced with another challenge. I had planned on spending my afternoon catching up on the ironing, playing my piano, straining the herb oil (for Mama had bought me some more cheesecloth), and making some elderberry syrup for I was almost out—BUT, Steve’s wife called and said that Steve was sick in bed. The cows needed to be milked, the Gainesville orders packed, veggies harvested for Gainesville’s order, customers to take care of, kefir to bottle, milk to bottle and all the milking equipment to be washed. Papa had to get the milk bottled and the milk tanks, claws and hoses washed before he could leave for Gainesville. I had to get everything packed and harvested before he left—I could wash my share of the milking equipment after he left. It was 2:00 by the time I finished washing and came inside totally exhausted and very, very hungry for some protein. Let’s just say that the next 2 hours was spent relaxing instead of working. Then I noticed that yesterday was international Pi day: International Pi Day is celebrated on March 14 each year, recognizing the mathematical constant pi (π), which is approximately 3.14. This year I have decided to take advantage of every chance to celebrate, so I decided to celebrate Pi Day the way many people do—with a pie. It was already after 5:00, so I needed a quick pie. I decided to make a Creamy Custard Pie (I made a video and Recipe blog of it a few years back). I printed out a picture of the pi symbol (π) and then made a stencil out of it and once I poured my pie into the pie pan I then set the (π) stencil on top and sprinkled cinnamon on top which left a cinnamon (π) in the middle of my custard pie. Did you know that the pi formula dates back to 400 BC?
Last week really was a good week—a great lesson in flexibility and a great lesson in knowing that God knows just how to orchestrate your days for His glory and he will give you the strength to do what needs to be done and the time to accomplish what really needs to be done—it just might not be in the order you planned.
Serving you with Gladness,
Tiare