Joyful Days

We finally stopped and got puppy collars and leashes Sunday afternoon. The puppies have been worn out the last day, as Abraham and Isaiah headed outside numerous times to walk them around. I like that the ankle biters are too tired to rush me. That's fine with me.

Now that I have tree pots, I'm doing my best to fill them. The 36 osage orange trees that sprouted and I planted out in the nursery bed were just too tiny to survive the weed and chicken competition. I think about 32 are yet living, but I have to really hunt for them. Even planted in an orderly, 6'x6' grid, they are overshadowed and lost with the grass and weed pressure. They'll go into pots until they're large enough and I'm ready to move them.

Filling the 13" tall pots takes some time: I want good soil, but to ensure the soil is weed-free and good quality topsoil ... it takes longer than I wish.

I grew discouraged at one point, and asked Phil if I was being ridiculous. Trying to save 36 tiny little trees?! He keeps my spirits up. This is all part of the learning curve. When I planted them out, I had no idea about tree pots; I had no idea the weed pressure would be so drastic. So I'm learning.

And to give up now would first, not be faithful to the tasks I've begun and, second, truncate the learning process. What other discoveries will happen now that the trees are in pots? It will be interesting to discover.

Can you spot the blackberry in the midst of the grass in the greenhouse? That beautiful grass was sown on the slope above the greenhouse, to prevent erosion. Harumph.

Phil went to help me dig up blackberries in the greenhouse. I had been having no trouble fitting the little plants into pots. But by the second or third plant, we had to quit: the blackberries were too vibrant. So Phil spent his afternoon crouched over 50 or so plants, carefully using the claw to remove the vetch, clover, and weed pressure from the base of the blackberries. We'll let those grow, and till the rest of the greenhouse for vegetables and such.

Phil has kept the boys busy. He moved the sheep down the driveway, and had the older boys with him, pounding stakes, putting up netting, and guiding sheep.

First thing this morning, I woke to the sound of the tractor. Phil had enclosed the chicken pen in mesh, and when he pulled the chickens to the neighbor's field, to allow the chickens to scratch cow patties behind the cows, adding their manure, breaking the cycle of fly larvae, he realized a long-time dream.

For an hour or so, until the chickens found their way back to their normal stomping grounds. After dark, Isaiah and Phil rounded up 13 of the 16 white birds (the last three found a VERY secure hiding spot, apparently), and moved them back into the hut near the cows.

Phil also scythed down the grass near our few blueberries. It had grown so lush and thick that he worried leaving the clippings would create such a dense mat of decaying matter that it would kill the grass beneath. So he scraped up part of it by hand: that little swatch of maybe 60 square feet filled the wheelbarrow.

With continued overcast days, the boys finally got their little fire, to burn cardboard and random sticks. They enjoyed that for an hour or two, while I did dishes, Phil scratched in the greenhouse, and the chickens scratched nearby.

And a few boys stories that I think are sweet: we read Captain Nobody last week (very cute), and the protagonist wear a little mask just over his eyes. Saturday night, I was supervising baths when I came in to find Isaiah and Joe very proudly displaying the masks Isaiah had made for them.

Abraham's reading gets better all the time. While Jadon was highly motivated, and Isaiah went from sounding out words to reading the KJV in about three days (it was so surprising that when Isaiah read a verse at Bible study for the first time, the leader had to make everyone read again, because he was in such shock over Isaiah's ability), Abraham's progress has been less motivated and more incremental. Tonight I pulled out a few very simple books, and Abraham read them without complaining, giggling as he read. Jadon came over and listened, too, laughing along with Abraham, just enjoying his brother's nascent ability.

Then Jadon took the pile of books and sorted them by what he thought Abraham would like. He passed them along, one by one, and offered little tutoring.

Add to that: Abraham asked me to open the door so he could give me a flower he found.

Joe tagged along to help me transplant osage oranges, and carried pots or shovel or whatever I needed (Joe is willing to do quit a bit, especially if I praise his muscles).

Isaiah grumbles a bit about having to choose a book to read, then holes himself up on his bed and reads until the story is finished. Did he like it? Yes, he did.

When getting Joe's clothes on after his shower, I asked if I could wear his jeans. "No. If you put them on, pshing! They explode." I hadn't thought of it in quite those terms, but I could certainly imagine it happening!