Goodbye to Some Less Productive Animals

Yesterday afternoon, some neighbors finally came to pick up Babe and her baby, Einstein. We had "sold" them back in May, I think, but a deluge happened right around the pick-up time. And then the neighbors just didn't come back. We had a cloudburst right around the time they were going to pick-up yesterday, and I wondered just how many more months we would need to feed these animals for free (have I mentioned I'm a pessimist?).

Happily the rain clearly shortly and the loading went pretty smoothly and the refuse-to-fatten and pathetic-milker Babe and her runty son Einstein have left. Phil figured it wasn't worth the price to carry them until they reached butchering weight, and as much as I might wish for more grass-fed beef, I can see that down-sizing the herd while we grow more grass does make sense.

It was one of those decisions that felt like I'd be grumpy no matter what. I'd be grumpy paying for hay for a small amount of meat, or grumpy selling two animals for less than we paid for just the mother.

***

Phil has spent a good deal of time the last few days making various arrangements. He'll need to dig a trench pretty soon, so he called for an electrical locate. We want to move the main electrical panel into the barn, where it will be better protected than the exposed plywood where it's been the last four years, so he's at least contacted the person who deals with the green boxes and such. We have a few friends coming down to work tomorrow, and he contacted them all, making sure they carpool or whatever. And more time spent calculating and measuring and figuring and planning. So he's been busy, but not busy in the building. Busy doing things ancillary to the building.

***

I had a sad moment when the midwife called me yesterday to say that my iron levels have come up a bit, but remain low. So I took a bunch of vitamins today, wondering if maybe the issue isn't the iron so much as other vitamins and minerals not allowing the iron to uptake (too low in vitamin C, for example). But that is never a good idea. A handful of supplements, even if not on an empty stomach, is a bit much, so I have been queasy all day. Ugh. I wish it wasn't such a challenge to get that number up!

But we are, I think, ready now for the baby. I have all the needed birth supplies. Our new infant car seat arrived yesterday (our first infant car seat was a hand-me-down, and after all four boys used it, too, we threw it out before we moved). We easily found the box of infant things in our storage area today. Happily, the plastic appeared intact, and there were no mice nests or off-smells. So great after four years! So we have some clothes, some blankets, some disposable diapers (which I will use as long as we have to rely on the laundromat).

And I continue to outgrow maternity clothes. I have always felt like the last month of pregnancy, nothing fits except a circus tent. (It made me laugh when I watched the maternity version of What Not to Wear. They chose a first trimester woman, a second trimester, and a recently post-partum woman. I figured there is no hope for a third trimester woman besides just keeping the enormous belly covered.)

Around the farm, I continue to just wear camis, which keep me cool and make me feel okay about myself, as they cling to the belly all the way around and remind me that I actually do have a body, just with a major addition in the front. But camis aren't really modest or appropriate off the farm (not to mention that, as with all pregnancy clothes, they are now quite stained!). Oh, well. I have been thankful for the cami option so many days thus far, if I have to wear tents a few times from now on, I can deal with that.

Crawl Space Work Continues

Phil has made good progress this week on his crawl space project.

He also drilled through the exterior block at one point.

He's had some fun with soldering. He had a moment on Tuesday where two pieces that should have been easy to separate simply would not. We figure they must have been defective, but that spoiled a mostly happy day.

I think that invisible project is almost done, so that is good.

***

I had a midwife appointment today. I must have been extremely low in iron before, because I realized today that I have more energy than I've had in many weeks. I am no longer narcoleptic, and except for singing on Sunday, I really don't get out of the breath (the midwife said I probably wasn't breathing from my diaphragm, which would explain the lightheadedness). Just to make sure, though, she did another blood draw. Just looking at it, she said, "Oh, this looks much better. Before it was light and rather watery, but this is nice, rich blood."

Besides taking liquid iron, a beet blood builder tablet, and two tablespoons of chlorophyll daily, I've kept up with my pate. The midwife suggested an Asian sandwich, made with pate on bread, then layered with some fermented vegetables (kimchee), cilantro, and meat. It's an unusual combination, but I don't find it offensive. I probably wouldn't opt for it normally, but it certainly feels healthy.

I asked her to try to check where my placenta is located, because with Jadon I had a partial previa (where the placenta covers the birth canal). With Jadon it moved up as the pregnancy progressed, but I would prefer to know about a previa now, because that would necessitate a hospital birth, I believe. It was interesting: she put on her stethoscope. The baby has a distinctive, quick heartbeat. The placenta has an Amy-paced heartbeat, maybe half the speed of the baby's. And where there is no baby heart and no placenta, the space is silent. So it was pretty obvious where the placenta was: on the left hand side, up around my belly button.

***

When I came home from my appointment, the boys were down with Phil in the building. They had pulled out their blocks and train tracks, and had taken up an entire room with intricate track patterns. It's been a long time since they did train tracks under cover: they haven't done much with trains for the last few years, because trying to balance everything on the gravel is a challenge. I always like it when the boys play well together.

Have You Heard of Cronuts?

Phil has continued his work in the crawl space the last few days. The days sort of run together, because I, with a 45" waist, don't even try to get in the crawl space. (Even should I step in, would I be able to get out?) I think he's made fairly good progress, but there have been times of extreme frustration, needing three attempts to accomplish what should have been a straightforward task. He continues to gut it out, fight the fumes (and the headache that results from the fumes). He's done some digging and made multiple shopping trips for this piece and that; he has planned and researched and thought about systems and layout. Little above ground looks different, which is a bit surreal. I can usually go and say, "Wow, great job!" But right now, there's little for me to actually see.

***

We decided, after two days in a row of Belle yielding a quart, that it was time to turn her back in with the herd. The amount of time for the amount of milk was completely disproportionate, and since she has not been bred back, it'll be June at the earliest that she births next year, instead of the more ideal earlier spring. I think she was glad to see the rest of the herd, although they, not being the isolated ones, acted as if they didn't remember her. The boys wish for more milk (Abraham prays for it). We had two cows who should have birthed this year and didn't yet, and one heifer Phil thinks might give birth in the near future. We shall see.

Phil has found cow moving much more swift with Jadon and Isaiah to come along and help. When it's time to move the cows, all four of the boys pile into the truck, and they laugh as Shadow races them to the neighbor's land. (They report that they win.) I appreciate that a move takes maybe a half hour, and not an hour and a half or more.

And, for something totally different, have you heard of cronuts? According to The Week magazine, they are the hot thing in Manhattan, a combination croissant-doughnut. The Week had a recipe this last week, and I tried making them. Even without a doughnut cutter, they were amazing. (I did biscuit-shaped circles, which were mostly okay. The problem is that the doughnut hole helps the entire doughnut fry quickly and thoroughly, which a biscuit has a great expanse in the middle that is slower to heat up. So I had a few in the first batch with some raw dough in the center.)

I don't often expand into the world of haute cuisine, so this was a fun experiment.

Lots of Fumes

Phil was down in the crawlspace most of the day, working on connecting PVC pipe. I expect that was somewhat fulfilling, as he made previous temporary connections permanent. But also somewhat mind-numbing (maybe literally, with the fumes). To permanently connect two pipes, he first had to disconnect them. And since they are designed to be tight, that often required some mallet and chisel action. Once separated, he used a special type of roughener, almost like sandpaper, to grind the shiny exterior away, from both sides of the coupling. Then came a purple acid to etch the PVC, followed by the rubber-cement-like clear adhesive. Once both parts were painted, he shoved them together quickly and then let them sit for some minutes while the chemical reaction permanently joined the two pieces.

At one point, he opened the door, yelled at us to come quickly, and dashed back down to the site. I think he had been working on a piece but couldn't get a good grip to place the pipe properly, which he didn't realize until all the parts were acidified and adhesived. Since the window is less than thirty seconds, even with all our scrambling, we had no hope of being there quickly enough.

Apparently, though, we aren't the only ones who have dealt with minor disasters like that. I think he simply needed to sand off the failed attempt and reapply; the desperate rush ended up not being necessary, and within five minutes the parts were all in place and all was well.

By the end of the day, Phil said he felt a bit high from all the fumes; his hands were chewed to bits, like being tormented with thousands of paper cuts; and he was physically tired from jumping in and out of the crawl space all day long. But he made good progress.

***

Although I have mostly taken a better late than early approach to education with the boys, I have wanted to see if Joe is ready to start printing. We worked on F yesterday, a simple line down and two across, but when his line down was not perfectly straight, and his lines across had any variation or jerk, he put his head down, in tears. And somehow reassurance that I've been writing for the better part of thirty years, and he has been writing for about thirty seconds, just didn't comfort him.

At some point we had a little chalkboard. I don't know if it made the move and has been in storage these last four years, or if it broke at some point back in Boulder. In any case, there is no little chalkboard at hand. But we do have a Post-It brand 2-in-1, used by businesses for lectures, with a large whiteboard on one side and large paper on the other, which can form an easel when folded.

Pulling that out was a huge hit for all four boys. Joe was willing to attempt an E and an F last night, but after about two each, I made him head to bed. "Can I do it tomorrow," he asked. Of course.

As soon as he woke this morning, he walked in to see me. "Can I write now? You said I could tomorrow, and it's tomorrow." Never mind that he had no breakfast, no bathroom break, and had barely managed to open his eyes. Of course.

And he persevered throughout the day. I did about ten minutes with him before he was done. Later Isaiah walked him through the alphabet up to M and N. Joe has a complex about M and N. The angles scare him, I think. But he loved the ease of C and D.

So no more workbook for a time. We'll stick with foot-high letters in purple dry-erase marker and call it good.

Isaiah did a full-sized drawing of a girl, after the style of Lichtenstein (the pop artist who painted in comic book style, with sections of dots, as if the paintings were coming from a newspaper print room). Isaiah's girl looked, perhaps, more like she had the measles or the smallpox, but it was a creative effort. Good for him.

Doors Aren't Windows

Phil started working on the double doors today.

They are not like windows. Windows have fins around the exterior to attach, and then require some form of finishing later. Doors ... they come pre-finished somehow. So how do you attach the door to the doorway without ruining the finishing? After putting down wood to make the rough opening about the right size, that's the question Phil now gets to figure out. How to attach the door?

Better him than me. My mind goes blank when I have to look at any type of schematic.

Third Time's the Charm

Although the thermometer said only 86 today, the scorching sun and the extreme humidity meant that it was hard to keep the body's core temperature down. Phil needed to move the cows to the neighbor's land to the south, and he did it in stages, soaking through clothes and showering off the sweat and grass after every stage. He ate popsicles, but he said his core temperature didn't finally come down until late in the day, when he filled the tub with cold water and just sat until he felt normal again.

He combined the two calves with the rest of the herd. They weren't really sure about where to go as the herd moved into the neighbor's land, but with a little quick footwork he managed to direct them where they needed to go. I think they'll be far happier in the long run, not roaming free or penned to keep them from going to the neighbor's lawn.

It was about 5:30 before that project was finally done. Happily, he spent the next two and a half hours very profitably—he got the final single window in, the window that has twice before given him fits. He had to scrape away adhesive stuck to the bottom of the window from a previous attempt. This time, we dry set the window before squirting the adhesive. Once we knew for sure that it fit, then he pulled the window out and put down final adhesive.

It was interesting to watch: he put in about fourteen shims on the inside, every few inches along the vertical parts. He said that he had not shimmed the previous two windows quite as well, as he hadn't fully understood the directions. This doesn't make a difference from waterproofing, but the shims do help keep the window square, which ensures that the window will be able to open and close easily. In any case, I'm glad he had two practice windows before he installed this one in the direction of the prevailing storms. He did that on purpose.

What a great relief to have that stinker done!

A Date I've Been Awaiting

Although the circumference of my waist varies some based on the position of the baby, I measured today about 42.5". That's not much different from mid-June. But with the advent of September, now when people ask when I'm due, I can say cheerily, "Next month!" That is far better than when I was asked in mid-June, by people clearly expecting me to say something like, "Any day now," and have to respond, "Oh, sometime in mid-October."

Even better: although when October begins, I can say, for the whole month, "I'm in the zone," I am happy to be not yet completely enormous. I hope September passes very slowly.

***

Phil and I had an interesting conversation after our guests left yesterday. He said, "You know, the farm is really pretty much me right now." Knowing how behind we are on our mowing, how we have pallets that held boards in one place, and broken concrete blocks in another place, and insulation not yet installed here, and a pile of construction trash there, that seemed at first to be a bit of a depressing thought.

But he expanded on that. One of the little issues I've had, when I stop to think about it, is that we are not like The Good Life Nearings, or like a friend we had in Boulder. They have workrooms so exquisitely organized that they outline their tools with paint, so they can easily hang things back up or note what is missing. Doesn't that sound dreamy?

For us, we (usually) get our tools back to their storage spots after use (Phil is probably better about this than I am). But the storage spots themselves are not terribly orderly. "I'm just not that anal," said Phil. "I don't think I'll ever be like that."

I don't know that I would say he's inherently messy, though maybe we both are. We keep our bills paid, and we can (usually) locate what we need in short order. Part of the messiness may be a lack of decent organizing tools, or a basic lack of space. But even with more space, are our areas that much more clean? Probably not.

It was an interesting thing to realize, though, that as much as I might admire the cleanness of IKEA's lines in their catalog, or the perfectly organized pegboard of our friends, that will probably not be in our future.

So we celebrate what we're good at (creative thinking, perseverance), and just try to make sure the hammers and shovels come in out of the rain.