A Few Posts in One

I Quit the Farm

Just kidding. Last Monday I went to the farm (as usual) and as I threw the 2nd bucket (the sheep always get 2) in to the sheep, I thought to myself "There are much fewer sheep faces here". Then I contemplated the fact that it was quite quiet on the farm and I hadn't seen anything of the goats (quite unusual) so I peeked down towards them before I went to the shed to gather their food. From a distance, it looked like a small number for sure so when I laid eyes on Francesco as he arrived at the farm I said, "Tell me did like half of the sheep and half of the goats go to the slaughter house this week-end?" He assured me that this was true, a fact I knew occurred from time to time but had yet to happen to me on my farm. It was a bit sad in a way because I really like the life of the farm which cannot be summed up any better than by the goats-- that hop inside food bins when you are not looking, or pyramid on each other just to get some of the food, or hop into the pig pens to eat the pigs' food undeterred by large snorting snouts. I just have to love them because they make me laugh even when I am pulling at their horns to get them out the food bin to no avail. It seems that pretty much baby (probably teenage) goats along with adults went off to the slaughter. But I could only pester with questions enough to find out that all 13 jumpers were cleared out. They will no longer eat the plants or cost so much money or be such a drain on the farm's resources. When I look at the sheep I also see the one beautiful curly horned ram that is the last man standing and think about the sheep who got her head stuck in a fence for a couple hours a few weeks back that Francesco pried free and it is just one of those ironies that we have cared for them so much and then cleared them out. If you are male, the odds are stacked against you. Life on a farm. A city farm at that, with no chance to make use of the meat, wool, etc. Just bye bye.


My chicken class

Last Saturday I attended a Chicken Keeping class at the Hackney City Farm. It was fabulous indeed. I feel at least armed with information to begin keeping a few hens when I can. The instructor passed around this beautiful ginger colored hen and I have to say I was feeling broody (a word used commonly here not just with chickens) to add her to my brood of ginger colored ladies. I don't know if and when hen keeping will happen for me but if I can get a garden up and running, then I will a) see how much money I have to start up such a venture and b) check with the council and neighbors. It was a fabulous day--I rode my bike, arrived early and helped myself to a coffee and newspaper, had the most amazing lunch, and got to catch some fine birds, a skill I wished I had had when one got loose at Stepping Stones farm. I was aglow.

My bike

How I love thee. It has taken me more places than I have ever imagined--I suppose that's because I never imagined I would really be a bike rider in a city. ( I do feel it is probably easier here than in SF even though I never rode there.) D and I split up yesterday before church to do coffee dates with our kids. I got Luci and it was pouring rain so I strapped her in her bike seat with her pink princess umbrella and we took off only to arrive at the same place Jesse and Darren were, and with me soaked. D had a meeting after church so I took the 2 kids home and he was to ride my bike home. However, the junky bikeseat that I had been blessed with from a bike thief a while ago was taken and D had no wallet to get it replaced at the nearby Cycle Surgery so I had to return for it later and pay 40 quid to get it fixed. On the way home I stopped at Argos to get some desperately needed garden tools and realized there was no way I was getting those home on my bike so I left it locked up in front of the store and bused home quickly. The kids, etc. kept us occupied for the afternoon so it was around 8 when D went back to get my bike. As he approached, my bike was in the process of being stolen by 2 homeless women. Darren went up to them and said "Um excuse me, you're not taking that because that it my bike and I am taking it home right now." I asked Darren how it was that they were stealing my locked bike and he said, "Rule number one: Do not lock your bike to a post that is 3 feet tall." Oh I see. He added that rule number 2 might be to make sure the post you lock it to does not come out of the ground. Ooohh, that's a good one too.

I Have Nothing To Do With This.

Luci must be in princess form from morning to night. (However, I will not worry myself with this obsessive behaviour since it seems to be a faze which many girls pass in and out of.) She puts her red princess dress on before breakfast and still has it on during bedtime stories. The complete ensemble really is the dress, a gold crown, a pink barrett, her ballet slippers, a neckace, and a bracelet, sometimes a tutu layered on top.

For tonight's video chat with my parents, she took it up a notch to include my strawberry-flavored lip gloss. She has been known to burst into tears when she takes so long gathering one part of the outfit from some corner of our house that she doesn't get to the next part she wants to show off before the her audience leaves. Oh the stress of being a high maintenance princess.

We were playing "Stuck in the Mud" last night on the grass area beside our building when she was compelled to have me take her home to get her bracelet, a maneuver I explained might make her miss out on her last chances to play for the evening. But she chose it anyways and then was tearful to not have time for more play or recycling/litter pick-up, the "game" D and Jesse had moved onto.