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Wednesday, March 17, 2010

baba capra status report for march 17, 2010

First of all, you should be pronouncing it "dikkity-ten," not "two-thousand-ten" or "twenty-ten." Duh. You would know this if you repeatedly watched old Simpsons episodes like you're supposed to.

House: no current projects. I don't think I ever posted a picture of my room, but it looks good. Still waiting on the artwork. I don't want to spoil the surprise, but there is a pending picture of a sitting elephant.

Yard: it can wait. Dreading it.

Chickens: all practically barebacked, because the rooster is an eager and vigorous lover. He is none the worse for being kicked last night, except hopefully humbler. Did you know there are breeding saddles for hens, so their feathers don't get all pulled out when the rooster is getting his purchase on their backs? We're getting about six eggs a day, and it will probably double once the days lengthen a bit. Their coop needs cleaning, because fifteen chickens poop more than three chickens. Biology math! It's magic.

Goats: are loving the warm weather. They've been basking in the sun with their distended bellies looking fit to burst. Traci has bagged up, and good news! Both of her teats appear to be the same size, at least for now. I'm not sure why, because usually she has one phenomenal cosmic teat and one itty-bitty teat, which, if you were wondering, makes her a real chore to milk. As in, I have to fold the one teat around my thumb in order to close it off and get the milk out. Have I mentioned the minuscule orifices yet? Because she has those, too. Also her udder is so poorly attached that she needs a sports bra, because when she gets on the milking stand she scrapes her udder, and I'm afraid she might step on it. You know when you have a really long skirt and you're going up the stairs and you accidentally step on your hem and then you tear a hole/pull off your skirt and everyone laughs at you? Like that, except add to it bleeding and infection and euthanasia.

Garden: peas planted! Seedlings being not dead! One month until I plant my beets! The soil is rich and dark! Exciting stuff. I even put stakes in the ground and made a straight row. The string got in the manure and is now a big clump of poopy cotton string, which is going to be the name of my all-girl rock band.

Hay field: groan. This is a real headache. Alfalfa needs a lot of phosphorous, according to my uncle Kenny and the USU Extension agent. Organic fertilizer options are manure, compost, rock phosphate, and bone meal. Since we have used no fertilizer or pesticide on the field in the time we've lived here, I think we're almost to the point of being able to be certified organic, for what it's worth (nothing). After I talked to my uncle he told my dad I had called about organic farming, which I think you'll agree is a clear violation of farmer/client privilege. But I think everybody has come to terms with the fact that I'm an incompetent weirdo, and it doesn't really bother them. Then a guy told John in church on Sunday, "You realize fertilizer is organic, right? They mine it from the ground and process it, it's not like pesticide." I don't even want to get into that, but I think you already know how I feel about divorcing a nutrient from its natural source.

Happy St. Pat's! Eat something green.

2 comments:

amy greenway said...

I have to say it - You are the FUNNIEST blogging micro-farmer ever.

Kacy said...

I was going to read All Creatures Great and Small but instead I just read your blog.