Spring fieldwork is underway. I love the roar of the tractors as they start up and the idle in the driveway. I love seeing the calves run through the west pasture - trying to leap in their calvey way. They mature too quickly, but that is another story for another day. I love planting time, too, because I have an excuse not to dust for another few months. Christmas and Easter is good enough for this farm wife.
My chickens have begun to lay eggs. Who cares if they are broilers we bought last August that were supposed to be butchered last November? They survived the Great Dog Massacre of '011 (ought eleven) and the Mild Winter. They get a bucket of grade A show cattle feed and a pail of water everyday. We have three roosters that give up half a crow each every morning. Butcher them? Yes, we know they are too tough now, thank you for your observation. They are beyond food grade now, they are pets, and a useful way to teach our children to do chores. The fact that they began laying eggs a week ago is a blessing in disguise. And those eggs taste even better when we know where they come from!
My Grandpa Wagner used to make sourdough bread. He got bored one day and went to the library and got books on how to do it. (No internet invented yet!) And he experimented until he got the starter right. That was the best bread I ever tasted. I never got the recipe from him, and after he passed no one could find it. I bet it was kept in his head! This weekend, I googled starter dough recipes, read reviews and how tos and decided to give it a whirl. It was fun to watch the starter grow and care for it like it was a living thing. I went to my favorite store this morning, a little country dry goods store, and bought a 5lb. bag of bread flour. I just ate a sourdough and butter and apple butter sandwich. Tastes almost as good as Grandpa's did...
Sunday in church, Pastor Jasen preached on the importance of connecting with the next generation. Praying for them, giving to them, mentoring them, and understanding them. It was an important reminder to John and I that we haven't wasted our time by raising not only our own children, but any child who enters our home. We invest in each child, nurture them, encourage them, let them work, let them fail, and help them get back up again! If we go to our graves only being known for one thing, let it be the difference we have made in the life of a child!
I hear hammering outside as the men work on the planter. I smell the fresh air. Birds are singing a never ending song. The sun is shining and I am blessed. So blessed.