Electric fences

For 3, maybe 4, months a year our property borders an electric fence. It is about 8 feet from our chickens and the garden. It is so beautiful to get up and have coffee while watching a newborn calf nurse from his mother. I love it here. My children are growing up in the same house I did and playing in the same yard I did. Hank grew up on a small farm, so this property was a good fit for him.

I slowly feel we are becoming our own small farm. There is always something that needs done. Like yesterday. I took Goldie outside to swing. While we were out I noticed the walnuts on the ground needed to be picked up so Hank could mow the grass. I walked over to get a wheelbarrow to put them in. While getting the wheelbarrow I see that the chickens need water. I take the bucket back to the house. While I'm dunking it in the rain barrel I turn to check on Goldie. She is headed toward the cow pasture. Despite my running and screaming, she beat me to it. By a mile. I felt like I was in a race against the electric current. This time we won. The fence wasn't working. (FYI, they don't deliver a continuous shock, it travels around the fence, which is very long. I've been shocked and it hurts, but it isn't dangerous, kwim?) The neighbor called later to see if everything was ok. She was outside and heard me yelling. I told her Goldie was fine, but I was very sore and would be spending the afternoon on the couch. I'm 29 weeks pg, not a good time to start sprinting.

I really believe inclusion begins at home, but I struggle with including Goldie and keeping my sanity her safe. She usually stands and watches the chickens while I get the water. Hank taught her to pull grass and feed it to them. This is very cute, but she's gotten her fingers pecked already.

Good Things

~ The Steelers won the Super Bowl! What teamwork and determination, definitely worth letting the kids stay up late for. I love how you can never count them out, no matter how few seconds are left on the clock.

~ Goldie is moving from the highchair to the table. See, everyday when Hank gets home from work, after Goldie gives him his hugs and kisses, she goes to the kid's cupboard, gets out a plate and sets it at the table. Sometimes this is followed by a bowl or cup. Then she pulls out the chair and stares at me.
I brought my yellow seamstress' tape measure to Target and found a booster seat with a belt that would fit under the table without smooshing her chubby thighs. The other 3 booster seats we already own, were too high and she kept sliding off the phone book. Now, time to learn this girl some table manners.

~ Hank's job. This is a big one for us. As the economy is tanking, we are rising from the abyss. My part time job was eliminated when Goldie was born and Hank was laid off when she was 8 weeks old. We applied for both SSI and unemployment. But, here's the sweet part, SSI only counts half of your wages, but ALL of the unemployment. So, they decided we should pay back 3 months worth of Goldie's SSI money. Nothing like kicking somebody when their down. Hank tried to hang on to his job at his old employer for way too long. They were letting us keep our health insurance, which is no small thing, because the state was paying for a portion of it and they were only 3 miles from our house.

Fast forward to this fall, I get tired of Hank drinking beer and playing with tractors strike oil by finding him a new J O B. He is now driving for a stable company that treats him almost as good as I do. A peace comes over me when I look at his pay stub and see money going toward health insurance, retirement, and even an account to help cover medical expenses. Plus, his new company has decided not to keep the money the state gives them to pay for Goldie's portion of our health insurance. They are having the state send the check directly to us. Can you believe that? Their belief is that will pay for our family what they would pay for any employee's family and give us the money to help for our portion. That's integrity. And the best part, Hank likes his new job, he has his pride back and is generally much nicer to be around.

~ I have a legitimate reason for not cleaning my kitchen floor and letting my kids run barefoot. It seems dirt really is good for the immune system. But, I'm going to have to draw the line at becoming infested with WORMS. Maybe Swatcho really does have a tapeworm? She's got a bullet proof immune system and despite how much food she packs away has wrists the size of a two year old. Hmmm.

Where I Come From

We live in the house I grew up in. Hank and I bought it after my parents divorced and have done some major renovations to it. We love the land and the location. Most of the time.

I woke up to the sound of spinning tires at 3:00 this MORNING. I immediately thought we had gotten some more freezing rain and my husband couldn't get out of the driveway to work. So, I get up to check. I find the neighbors have had too much Christmas Cheer and are "pulling" on the road. What is "pulling"? Well, two vehicles are chained together going in the opposite direction and the one with the most power wins. Since Hank and I like to enjoy these moments together, I call him on his cell. He assured me that he got off to work just fine and yes they were getting ready to pull before he left. I went back to bed. I fell asleep after all the victory yelling was over. This is harder to do in the summer when my windows are open and they are pulling tractors. (If you are worried about the safety of other motorists we have no traffic on our road at 3 am.)

Why do I put up with this? Why don't I call the police like the rest of the neighbors? Because, if I need anything they're one of the first people to help me out. If Hank is at work and we get a bad snow, they plow us out without even being asked. They let my chickens run thru their yard. They give me tomoatoes from their garden. My kids run the neighborhood with their kids. (yes, they have kids) (yes, I let them play with my kids. They are here all.the.time.) I've learned to take the good with the bad.