A Day in This Life

      One of the first things I saw this morning when I came downstairs, was my toothbrush lying on the counter with last night's dirty dishes. I mean, seriously, how on earth did it get THERE?!
      So, we started school today. We are just easing into it, because we went longer in the spring, and now we have a bunch of garden finishing up to do. The barn and chicken coop are in desperate need of a good cleaning before fall sets in. We are still raising meat birds which have about 4 wks left. The flower beds and garden are pretty weedy because with the lack of rain we may have less weeds, but the ones we do have are diggin' in and hangin' on for dear life.
    Back to the eeeeeeeasing into school thing, yeah, it's gonna take a few days:) The signs we made to go with our back to school pictures originally said Fist Day of School and First Day of Scoole. We discovered that oil pastels can be erased:)

    My husband is working 2nd shift again. I had finally gotten myself used to 1st shift. In fact I literally had just said to myself, "Self, I think I'm liking this being on 1st shift now that I'm used to it." Then my husband came home and told me he was being moved back to 2nd shift. Literally, just. So now it's time to start back to school, and the garden is begging to be finished up, well, most of it anyway, and we're raising those meat birds, and we're close to having 2 grandbabies in a few weeks, so how am I supposed to remember what time to feed the guy before he goes to work? I'm trying, I really am. I just keep missing it. Today it was pork chops in homemade tomato sauce, rice and beets fresh from the garden. So he's getting these AWESOME meals a day later than the rest of us, and they're cold and wrapped in foil. Well, not always, cause I'm trying not to use foil anymore, so sometimes they're in plastic, which I'm also trying not to use. He did get a packed lunch today, though  (technically his supper) which he eats while most people are getting ready for bed.
    We got a beef last week, so we are rendering the fat. Now that will keep you praying, I'll tell you! Pouring hot, melted fat into your canning jars, you pray for all you're worth they won't decide to give out on you, as old jars are sometimes wont to do! I am standing here pouring off this fat, in the oldest skirt I own (the one with holes by the zipper and paint hand prints on the derriere). I showered this morning, but never got around to brushing my teeth. It's hot, like 95 degrees in my kitchen, (because, I'm rendering fat, you know, so it has to be the hottest day in how long)? So if the jar breaks, then what? I'm not going to the ER looking like this, no sirree! Really, it is quite an exercise in idiocy to render your own fat. It's sizzling as you pour it in the jar, 'cause you want it hot, so it will seal. You gotta strain it at least somewhat, and since the only stainless funnel I have is a wide mouth, and all my half gallon jars are narrow mouth (of course), that adds an extra step. So I'm pouring sizzling hot fat from one jar which may explode into another. Idiocy, I tell you, sheer idiocy:) Anyway, the last 2 bags are in the roaster, and I'm sure I won't sleep well tonight at all, because cooking fat wafting up the stairs into my bedroom is utterly nauseating!

   We had a potluck to go to this evening for all the kiddos that played summer sports in our home school group. Beans were cooking, meat was frying, peach cobbler in the oven. We were making pretty good time. I had to take another quick shower (95 degrees in my kitchen you will remember). Well I don't know about you, but before I head out to something like that, I usually brush my teeth. Especially if I didn't get to it all day! I specifically remember assigning someone to return that wayward toothbrush back to it's rightful place, (refer to sentence 1) although I could not tell you who that was. And neither could anyone else. Good thing I have one in my travel bag.
       Now about those meat birds. We are raising Freedom Rangers. They grow more slowly than the Cornish Crosses, and so far, I'm liking what I see. We have ours in a portable pen, so they get moved every day. Ya hook that puppy up to the lawn tractor and give it a little tug, while your 3 children stand at the back with fairly large sticks to chase any stragglers forward so they don't get smashed. Pretty simple operation, right? Unless, of course, you get the tires stuck on a tree root that is hiding under luscious tall grass next to the stump that your husband cut down last summer. So, the better idea seems to be to let said chickens out of the pen, which we do from time to time if we are pulling the pen at angle. Dumb idea at dusk. But I'd started this thing, and I wanted them moved. Well, when you want them in the pen, they don't want to go. And when you want them out, they don't want to go. We cajoled and clucked and shook the food to tempt them, doors wide open, all the while, darkness falling. We finally got them all out, rather my youngest did, all stooped over in that 3 foot tall pen with her skirt tucked up to keep it from getting you know, chicken poop on it:) We moved the pen, and then had to wrangle them back in. Chickens are pretty much blind when it's that close to dark, so it was much easier putting them back. You can scoop them up by twos and threes at that point. All this time, our Lab is running back and forth, barking at the woods, to let the coyotes, foxes and coons know they better just stay away, cause she's on guard. She is a converted chicken lover, (I converted her myself) and even helps the girls wrangle the chicks back toward the pen when we've let them out.      So, that was today, in a nutshell, and tomorrow is another day:)