Bird of Prey

Monday was a mellow day. Phil researched why the plants have all set fruit once and quit producing. He thinks that they probably ran out of calcium. It makes sense: since our soil had barely 10% of the ideal calcium level when we moved here, the mineralization we've had done so far isn't going to make up all of that lack. Next year: better crops.

I cut up most of the little peaches, poured some of Catherine's milk on it, and sprinkled sugar. Peaches and cream from our land: it's a good life.

For lunch I cut up chicken, combined with mustard, homemade mayo, and homegrown, lacto-fermented pickles. Joe wolfed it down, and after each bite, he would flash a thumb's up, and say, "I LOVE this!" What good taste for a 2-year-old!

After finding several dozen eggs in the weeds on Saturday, I noticed that several of my onions had fallen behind my storage table.

I bent down to gather them, and found another couple of dozen eggs back there behind the bulk beans. Our house: a constant Easter egg hunt.

Late yesterday evening, I harvested half a bed of potatoes, and the boys and I finished the bed this morning. Last night I thought, as it got dark, "I should really stop soon, lest I accidentally meet up with a poisonous spider." So it gave me a little thrill this morning to see a black widow walking along the row right as we were beginning to harvest. This time, I squashed it.

We didn't weigh them, but I'd guess we got about 30 pounds from that one bed. Then I weeded for a while, which felt so great: I was impressed by how much better the bed looked. Some of the 10 feet weeds simply knocked over and made the bed look much more clean. I don't think I've ever literally drenched my clothes with sweat, but although overcast, it was in the 90s, and my clothes were soggy by the end.

I also picked some more jalapenos, and pulled about ten of my drying tomato plants. They just about filled the nine trays on the new Excalibur dehydrator, which holds a ridiculous amount of cherry tomatoes, and seems a good bit faster to load than my old circular dryer.

While picking tomatoes, Phil came and got the camera. He figured out what got our chicken last week: the same predator as got a chicken today. A small bird of prey, unable to fly away with its prize.

He was so excited about the beauty of this predator, he was happy just to take photos. I was more concerned: once a predator finds a fast food farm, they return again and again. And sure enough: just a few hours later, Phil found another dead bird.

In other news: Catherine, after her wonderful gallon and a half day, has given very little the last few days. I could feel a nice half gallon in her udder this evening, but she simply wouldn't let down, no matter how much I massaged and bopped. Since a quart of milk a day isn't really enough for us, I'm actually considering feeding some grain. I don't like the idea from a health standpoint, but if we need it, we need it.