I Will Sing Behind The Plow

It is only the beginning of a long journey - but a beginning is always a good thing.  In two days I leave for the John C. Campbell Folk School, an amazing place of learning and art and song in the middle of the Appalachian Mountains in South Carolina.  It will be no small feat to get there - three planes, two airlines, four cities, and a hotel room - all before I actually step foot on the school grounds.  But, seeing as how I always enjoy flying and usually enjoy traveling, I am undaunted.

I will be taking a week-long class in Continuing Clawhammer Banjo from David Brose, one of the school's own folklorists.  I can't wait.  I have been playing clawhammer banjo for over a year, having started as part of an online collaborative series run by Cold Antler Farm.  Fittingly, the only reason I can afford to attend this wonderful school is that Jenna at Cold Antler Farm held a drawing for a free class with room and board and lo and behold my name was chosen.  I am forever grateful to her, not only for this chance but also for her two books and her long-standing blog which have brought the ideals of homesteading and small farming to my attention.

Also key to my getting to go is my parents.  They have graciously offered to pay my not-insignificant airfare, leaving only the room and board on both ends to me.  As we've fallen on a bit of hard times in recent months (who hasn't) their largess is a godsend and much appreciated.

So, in honor and because of this wonderful and amazing opportunity, you will see considerably longer posts upon my return.  I try to keep my posts short, as I know people are busy (as am I) and lengthy posts can make the attention lag.  However, I feel I must report fully upon this experience not only for my own memory (which is largely faulty on good days) but also for the hundreds who put their name in for this prize and were, sadly, not selected.  I hope that by describing my experiences you will share in some small way with me as I travel.

That being said, don't expect any posts until my return.  Being a folk school in practically the middle of nowhere, I don't expect I will have any opportunity to post to the blog while actually there.  But never fear!  I will take copious notes and many photographs, all to be shared upon my return.

Happy travels to all.

And The Sun Comes Out Again

Lo and behold, the sun has not forsaken us entirely.  Sunday lived up to its name and shined brightly.  It was amazing.  The grass is just beginning to come back and the animals are pronking in their joy, fairly leaping over the fields in their joy.

We felt pretty good too.

This last weekend was warm and sunny enough that we've begun to get the best of the weanlings ready for the show season.  Our first show is late next month in southern Washington.  Should be fun - especially as the two animals we are showing both belong to us this time.  Both Romeo and Amber are registered, along with several of our friends' animals.  It should be a busy weekend, but a good one nonetheless.

Happy Spring?

They tell me it's spring.  Horse pucky, I say.

On the Hunt for Wee Folk

In case you missed it (and I nearly did) this last weekend was St. Patrick's day - a holiday muddled in meaning but fun in execution.  As a new tradition this year our son laid several traps throughout the house in hopes of catching one of the wee folk and getting some gold or, failing that, a wish or two.  Sadly, while all his traps were sprung, we only caught one leprechaun and that one turned himself into a stuffed animal in his fright.  Our nighttime visitors did manage to overturn most of the chairs in the house, even leaving one in the middle of the kitchen.  Lots of chocolate was to be had as well, so all is well in the kindergartner's mind.

While we had to skip the parade downtown in favor of taking care of the alpacas, our boy did take the time to lead the weanlings on a leprechaun hunt.  It was adorable, our boy and his flaming read head leading a pack of yearling alpacas, all shyness gone in their curiousity.  The weanlings love him - he's their size and very interesting, and they follow him anywhere.  According to our son, they spotted ten leprechauns but weren't able to catch any.  I imagine the little things are terrified of those big fuzzy camel/sheep coming their way.

Stolen Spring

As excited as we are about the prospect of moving in the near future, it has certainly put a damper on our garden plans for the year.  While we will definitely be planting some lettuce and beans as soon as the weather evens out a bit (ha!), the long term crops we usually sow - the tomatoes, onions, potatoes, carrots, etc. - will have to wait until we discover where our family will finally land.  We are short-selling our home, something which ironically takes longer than a traditional sale, and we as yet have no idea when we will move, not to mention where. So, in the mean time, many of our raised beds will remain bare and we'll have to be content watching the chickens pick through the little bits of last year's garden that remain after the winter passes.   Sigh.

A 'Barrow of Goodies

Seriously.  Where else can you buy a wheelbarrow of tack and supplies for less than $50?  Sadly, this pile of used goodies is not mine, but a surprising number of people were lugging these around at the annual 4H tack swap last weekend.  For our part we picked up a few stock whips (used - without striking them - to herd the alpacas without coming into their "flight zone") a couple nice horse blankets to use as carpets at shows, and a lead or two for the upcoming halter training.  Oh, and I got a great hat for almost nothing.  Our daughter and her friend had a blast - mostly because we let them roam on their own.  It was great to see so many people out trading tack and supplies like old friends.

The whole "swap" concept seems like such a great idea.  Now, if we only had the whole property thing settled I could safely attend the next poultry swap.  As it is, I don't trust myself anywhere near chickens and poultry supplies.  Even going into Big R these days is a challenge to my will.

What's Good for the Goose

My commute to my day job is longer than it once was.  Having worked from home before, my current 60 mile trek every morning is a bit of an adjustment.  The redeeming factor is the fact that I get to work in a truly rural county surrounded by natural beauty of all types.  This morning we stepped off the bus at exactly the right time.  The sun was just beginning to peer over the eastern ridge and the entire Pend Oreille River valley was washed in gold and silver.

As I made the short walk to my office, I looked above me and spotted a mating pair of chinstrap Canadian geese gliding in to a smooth landing in the buffalo fields behind me.  It's good to see life returning to the valley along with the sun.  It won't be long and this one pair will be joined by a throng of returning wildlife.  Seeing as how most of the valley is made of wetlands of one type or another, I eagerly await the fullness of spring and all the part-time residents of the valley.  Bring it on!

I Want One

All kinds of sustainable geekery in this one.  Still . . . looks like fun.

Babies!!!!

Many (many) years ago my father was learning basic computer programming.  At the time, his secretary raised ducks and had a clutch of ducklings in her house.  He set up a program that would print out a series of words, to the effect of "peep peep peep peep peep splat peep peep splat peep peep," something she dealt with constantly.

Last weekend my family walked into Big R (a farming wonderland if you have one available) and lo and behold we were greeted by not one peep but a whole chorus of peeping, pooping, and pecking chicks waiting for a good home.  There were gold sexlinks, a huge clump of buff orps, and even some polish crested looking like someone has snuck in during the night and glued little cotton balls to their heads. The black stars seemed determined to outdo the competition, making more noise than any other group.

It's hard to keep motivated towards a more rural/farming life during the winter in the City.  Our drive wanes with the sunlight and it starts to seem like we'll never have a few acres of our own with our own animals on it. And then spring sneaks up and something like this happens.  We barely resisted picking up a bunch of the little sweeties and setting up the brooder in the basement, even though our house is up for sale and most of our belongings live in storage for the time being.

Sigh.  Soon enough.

Soup Does a Neighborhood Good

So, what do you do when winter rears its head again after a mild two months?  Why, you eat soup of course!  In celebration of Leap Day, our block had a big soup party last night.  We had chicken curry soup, a sublime clam chowder, and our own hamburger soup for the kiddos (and plenty of the adults).  We had fresh baked bread (including an amazing homemade focaccia which went with the chowder perfectly), veggies, and more wine than you can shake a stick at.

It was more than perfect for a cold, snowy night.