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Hi Everyone,
Our morning started at 5:00 this morning as we arose early to get our morning chores done so that we could leave the house by 9:00 I order to get to church in a timely manner. A few cows with mastitis slowed me down, and Papa was a little behind too with six pens full of broiler chickens all needing to be moved, watered and fed. Mom was late getting breakfast started because she had to wage war on some ants that are insisting on invading our house at the moment. It was a little after 9:00 when we started to gather our belongings and head for the van. I grabbed a light jacket out of our coat closet and set it on the kitchen counter and ran to the back of the house for something. When I got back Mama informed me that my coat was crawling with ants—quite a few coats in the closet were crawling in ants. I took my jacket outside and shook them off, and Mama grabbed a few other jackets that were heavy with ants and hung them in the golf-cart as we made our way to the van. We would have to deal with the ants when we got home—and thankfully that was our last thought of them so that we could enjoy the church services. As soon as we got back in the van though I remembered what awaited us at the house—did we really want to go home? I have wanted to clean out the coat closet for a few years—but I haven’t found a place to donate old coats. It took us almost two hours to vacuum up the ants, shake out the coats, and empty the closet. There were around 70 coats crammed in that little closet—just about every coat we have ever owned! There were coats from my childhood, coats from Papa’s navy days, and coats from my siblings childhood days, coats from my childhood, coats we wear now, and coats we never wear anymore. To my dismay I found out that ants have a taste for goose down—my brand new winter down coat! They chewed little holes in the neck and started pulling out the feathers. Shame on them!!! I ended up rolling it up real small and putting it in a bag and vacuum sealing it to keep the ants out. We now have an empty closet so that Mama can keep vacuuming up the ants as they continue to pour in, and we have a mountain of coats on our guest bed. I guess it is time to sort through the coats and make three piles: keep, give away (to I do not know where), and throw away. We have ant bait arriving tomorrow—and hopefully it works because the coat closet isn’t the only place Mama is battling ants (they are in her bathroom and our living room too).
A few months ago a technician came out to service our generator and it was a very rainy day and he managed to leave his keys on the generator. Papa found them later and the company sent another man out another day to pick them up. We were milking the cows when he arrived and like every smart person he looked around and assessed that there was a lot to do on our farm and that we probably needed some help. He had a son that was fixing to graduate from high school and join the navy—but he needed a job until he departed for boot camp. We told him to have his son call us and we would talk. He did and Mama told him to call us after school was out—but he didn’t because a lady needed help taking care of her 21 cows while her worker was deployed. Last Monday we finally got that call—and as you know we had just hired a new worker the week before. We knew that we had enough work to handle two workers (but do we have enough income to pay two workers)? Since Shayne (the newly hired worker) would not be able to start work until July 13 (tomorrow), Mama decided to ask Wayland if he could work for a week—and he said yes! So we only had to do all the chores by ourselves on Monday. Wayland showed up for work Tuesday morning and did chores with Papa, then he helped Mama bottle the milk and he helped me wash up the milking equipment. Come Wednesday morning he did half the field chores by himself and then he learned about catching cow poo—you blink you miss. As the week passed he helped package eggs, mow in the garden and weed eat. Wednesday he had to gather the eggs since Papa was away on deliveries. I went with him to introduce him to the dogs and show him where the eggs were. Let’s just say that I had some good laughs as I realized that he had never been around chickens before and he realized that the hens had to be removed from the nests in order to collect the eggs. Friday rolled around and we decided to keep Wayland on—I just told him that he had better do some praying that God would supply the funds to pay him. He really enjoys the job and he is a joy to work with. He will only be working part time—but Shayne will be working full time.
The gardens produced a lot of honeydew melons this year, but melons grown east of the Mississippi are not as flavorful as the melons grown west of the Mississippi. I found that we were not eating them as much as we should—for they really needed some lime juice and honey to boost their flavor. I decided that we just might consume them better as a drink—so on Saturday I juiced a whole bunch of them along with some pineapples. Then I added some lime juice and a little bit more pineapple juice. We bought some sparkling water to add to the juice and if I may say so myself, I created a very nice and refreshing drink for a hot summer afternoon. Melons are very hydrating—and with all the heat and humidity of late we have been doing our fair share of sweating of late.
The West Garden is producing lots of tomatoes—cherry and slicing. I am thankful that I caged the tomatoes as soon as I planted them for at least the majority of the plants are growing straight up. I am not the best tomato grower—or should I say pruner, because the walkways are covered with overgrown tomato plants. I harvested a whole cookie sheet full of tomatoes Friday—and I have got to figure out what will be the best thing to do with them all. So far Papa and I are eating them fresh with our meals. Poor Mama is allergic to them. I kind of want to try a tomato soup with the bigger tomatoes and some roasted tomatoes with the cherry tomatoes.
So far I have been able to stick to my goal of sewing a new dress a week. It has been years since I have really sewn much, and my wardrobe is beginning to show some wear and tear. Mama is ready for some new clothes too. When I was little Mama sewed for me, then she taught me how to sew, and we sewed together—now I sew for her. I can remember when my sisters were home and growing up we would have a Homeschool convention to go to—but no one had enough clothes to be gone a whole week. Sure we had farm clothes, and a few Sunday clothes—but children were usually growing out of their dresses every year and needing new ones and a vacation was the perfect time to sew new wardrobes. My sisters would do all the outside chores and cook the meals for a week while Mama and I sewed slips, blouses, dresses and jumpers. That is why our patterns are so simple—we had no time for fanciful and complicated. A jumper can be sewn in an hour and a dress in less than two hours. Farm full time has made it a little difficult for me to find the time to sew, but this last month I have learned to make wise use of those “wasted” minutes.
We have been very grateful for the rain we received this weekend—a little over two inches. Lately we have seen many clouds billow up and go around us. Friday the sky turned black and the wind picked up fiercely. Mama and I had just got home from an afternoon spent together antique shopping. I came home with a pretty bottle that I purchased specifically for zinnias. I couldn’t wait to fill it so I quickly drove the golf-cart out to the East Garden and picked a few flowers. A few weeks ago I picked a whole bucket of zinnias and we never put them in vases—and I realized that I enjoyed them better in the garden. Well, I think that I have learned my style—just a few in a tall skinny vase. One is okay, two is not, three is perfect, and four and five is too many. The whole time I was picking the flowers I was praying that I would get back inside and that Papa would get the feed that he had just bought put in the Feed Room before it rained. We got everything put away and closed the garage door—but my prayers had changed. On my way inside I noticed that the neighbors were haying. How could I pray for rain when our neighbors were working hard to get the hay put up before it rained? It did not rain that night—but the next night we got half an inch and today we got over an inch and a half. I am glad, because when Wayland mowed in the garden I didn’t tell him where the garden hose was because I thought it was buried in the grass—but the mower found it and cut it in half. The hose has not been fixed yet, so I have no way to water Martha’s Vineyard—but God watered it really good for me.
Well it is getting late, and I have already had to retype some of this journal because the computer shut off on me. So—Good night!
Serving you with Gladness,
Tiare