Category Archives: Life

A Frog’s Life

One cold, windy and sunny day, Joe got up and wanted to grow some frogs.

“Mom, can we collect some tadpoles from the pond and grow our own frogs?”

High off the success of hatching our own eggs, we put are mud boots on, grabbed a glass jar and trekked out to the pond to collect a few tadpoles.

“We might not see many since it’s so cold,” I told Joe.

We saw just a few more than I thought we would.

“Our pond is going to have all these frogs!?”

“Well, not all of them will make it,” I said.

“Oh yeah,” Joe said. “Predators.”

Joe wanted to collect a jar-full, but I convinced him that we should start with 5.

He dipped the jar into the shallow end and carefully lifted it out.

We ended up with 10.

The boys wanted to rush back inside and put them in the fish tank. I wasn’t so sure that Bubbles and Fannytail would appreciate that, so we went in and researched how to care for tadpoles.

We picked a shallow container and covered the bottom with gravel. Jake picked out a few bigger rocks for when the tadpoles grow into froglets.

Then we filled it about halfway up with some of our filtered water and poured the 10 tadpoles into their new home.

A couple of the sites we looked at said that they would eat fish food. Since we already had it on hand, that is what we sprinkled in for now. It’s not an ideal diet for frogs, so I ordered some frog food.

It takes 12-16 weeks for the tadpoles to develop into frogs. We are not sure how old these little guys are so we may see frogs sooner…or later.

Tadpoles in a jar
Metamorphose into frogs
In a month or 4

Zounds!

Rain.

Rain.

More rain.

Really, that’s all that’s been happening over the past few days.

It rains, then comes in sheets, then pours buckets all over the land.

Our swales are full.

Our yard is full.

Our property is full.

Zounds!

A large mote ran around us for over a day. Ray was checking the basement almost constantly and I was pacing nervously, worried about a flood.

We had small breaks. During one, I went and pulled the smaller chickens inside. They had a tote for cover, but the ground was so full of water that it started to pool so I thought pulling them in would be kinder then leaving them to the elements.

Hopefully they agreed.

And still it rained on.

The water washed over the road.

Cars had to slowly wade through.

Our fedge was drowning.

I’m sure the kiwi are angry. The leaf edges had already started to turn black from too much water.

And still…it rained.

On.

And on.

And on.

 

Yesterday

It seems like yesterday
I brought you home with me
My funny, cuddly puppy
My little blonde Charlie

Your fur was soft and fuzzy
Your nose was all squished in
I thought you were the cutest
With your big goofy grin

Our neighbors all adored you
You were such a friendly pet
You always were so happy
The sweetest dog I’d met

When we moved to the country
You still had tons of cheek
You’d run at skunks and coyotes
No one would call you meek

Then one day I noticed
Your fur, once blond, was white
You slept more than you used to
Your eyes were not as bright

I tried to soothe and pet you
I tried to let you see
Just how much I’d miss you
When you weren’t here with me

So goodbye my sweet Charlie
So long my little friend
You will be remembered
And loved until the end

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Underneath

Underneath the vineyard
Tiny buds appear
Are they signs of kiwi?
Will this be the year?

Underneath the chicken run
Small pullets play and fight
Fluttering and flying low
Huddled up at night

Underneath the playset
Two boys rest with a treat
Chocolate pudding faces
Sticky smiles so sweet

Underneath the lovage
A little kitty purrs
Hiding, yawning, napping
Cleaning all her fur

Underneath the bright blue sky
The wind blows soft and strong
Greens and yellows dot the land
Summer won’t be long



Quiet Times

Quietly I wander
Through the rows
Searching

Softly I whisper
Words of love
Hoping

Eagerly I welcome
Signs of life
Smiling

A touch of pink
A splash of green
Growing

We wandered around the vineyard yesterday and were surprised to see all the new life.

Grape leaves are starting to grow on the vines.

Chocolate mint is running wild like a carpet on the floor of the vineyard.

The kiwi is already greening and growing.

The goji berries are growing greener than ever.

The one creeping phlox that is still around has doubled in size from last year.

Okra (et al.)

Today I planted okra
Lettuce, spinach, kale
And one sad tomato
All crooked, bent and frail

Worms in every spadeful
Wiggling in the dirt
A few big nasty grubs
A little chick dessert

Next I planted flowers
And cilantro all around
Bush beans in the garden
Carrots in the ground

I looked down at my hands
When everything was done
Dirt and mud had crusted
My fingers…every one

And then I heard the laughter
The sound of running feet
I looked up from the garden
And got an awful treat

Two boys armed with squirt guns
Had come to chase me off
They giggled, smiled and shouted
Hey Mom! It’s time to stop!

Nourishment

We move the chicks outside to the run every day. The boys fight over who gets to pick them up, transport them and put them in the pen.

Then, they both eagerly hop in and start digging.

They like nothing better than to feed the chicks live worms.

They get the biggest kick out of the little pecks and tweets and fights that break out when they hold a wriggly worm in the air.

As I sat watching, I wondered at the chicks lack of fear with the boys. They hopped on their laps, walked right up to them and came running to a “hear chickie, chickie”.

“Why don’t they do that with me?”

“Come in here Mommy, and they will.”

And then I realized that it’s time. Time is the key.

It’s not enough for me to feed and water them and occasionally pick one up. Time spent playing with and holding them is what makes the difference.

Time. And patience.

I would never describe either of my boys as patient. Yet in this, they are more patient than I am.

They will sit and coax a chick into their laps and not get frustrated when it doesn’t come right away.

Yet, I see them lose patience with so many other things.

Joe gets in a huff when he can’t do something well the first time he does it.

Jake loses all patience when he can’t get the wrapper on his cheesestick off.

But maybe it’s because these “other” things are just not in their control. They have to rely on someone else to help them.

Maybe thats where the frustration comes from.

Playing with the chicks, nourishing them and coaxing them to be comfortable is not frustrating for the boys.

On a weird level, they connect with that vulnerability.

The chick is at their mercy. The chick is relying on them.

There is really no magic to the chicken whispering.

There is just time.

 

 

Lovely Lilac

This is my lovely lilac
Planted years ago
Growing oh so slowly
Bruised by wind and snow

Last year, I thought it dead
But I left it in the ground
And now I’m glad I did
Just see this plant rebound!

Now patiently I’ll wait
For many years to pass
That is how long it takes
For buds to bloom at last

Kneeling in the Garden

Yesterday, the boys planted a “secret hideout” using mammoth sunflower seeds.

They planted the seeds in a ring and then planted flowers, watermelon and broccoli inside.

Why watermelon and broccoli?

“For a snack while we are hiding out.”

While they were busy planting and plotting, I knelt in my own secret hideout.

I planted spaghetti, acorn and pattypan squash around the base of the squash arch. Today, I’ll plant the morning glory seeds I soaked overnight around the outside. I can’t wait to see what the arch looks like in a month.

I planted alyssum around the edge of the garden and transplanted a few more tomatoes. The ones I planted on Monday were very sad from wind and frost. I’m still hopeful they will bounce back though.

I planted the globe amaranth I had started indoors, as well as the purple basil in the herb spiral. There is still no sign of the cilantro and basil I planted a few weeks ago.

I planted the last pepper. I do not know what kind of pepper it is. I really must figure out a way to label better. My masking tape ends up falling off and my labels fade, even when I use a permanent marker.

I know it could be a sweet chocolate pepper, a jalapeno or a hungarian hot wax.

The tomatoes are the same. The pink boar’s all kept their masking tape on, but the crimson sprinters and mortgage lifters shed theirs when I wasn’t looking.

I have this problem yearly. It seems like it would be an easy enough thing to do, labeling plants, but for some reason I cannot seem to get it.

Oh well, I like a surprise.

Kneeling in the garden
Smelling earth and trees
Thanking God in heaven
While I’m on my knees

Juveniles

The teenage chickens are hormonal.

Their pecks are starting to bite a bit and they are getting on each other’s nerves.

If Cheep Cheep makes the mistake of trying to eat at the same time as Yellow Feather, fighting breaks out.

If Fluffy takes a drink too close to Flappy, a battle begins.

And if Fin tries to cuddle up with Sir Hubert McFeatherington…the gloves come off and the pecking gets even more aggressive.

They definitely have some of their mothers’ traits. Some of them are calm, cool and collected, but the two that I think are roosters are angry juveniles fighting for the alpha position.

Enter the chicken whisperers.

Since it is such a nice day, we decided to bring them out to their run for a little fresh air and sunshine.

I don’t know if it because they had more room, or because the chicken whisperers were in the run with them, but they were instantly calmer and spent the time exploring their new surroundings and climbing all over the boys.

I dread putting them all back in their dank tank in the garage. They seem so happy hopping and flapping around the run, and the boys love being in there with them.

But they sure did get a treat today.

Two boys control them
Softly soothing with whispers
Held gently with love