And So It Ends…and Begins

We did it! On Monday Tully and John helped me drag the fourth and final coop to the field. I felt like the leader of a celebratory parade, dragging the 20’ wide coop down our road, stopping traffic both out of curiosity and because we take up most of the road. Our parade was long enough for a celebration too. Tully drove the side-by-side with tools and supplies, John drove his car for the flashers and half way up the farm road Jason caught up with us with the trailer full of chicks waiting for their new home.

The weather has been kind to the new chicks this week, with gentle and cool nights and warm sunny days. We are up to full capacity now, with a total of 9 batches of chickens on the farm, with new ones coming every week and processing starting every week. That is a total of 4,050 chickens! Susu, our farm dog and chicken mover extraordinaire, is busy every morning these days moving all those chickens.

Thank you to John and Tully for your tireless work, enthusiasm and patience in helping us build these coops. I literally could not have done it without you. Thank you to Holly, Racey, Katharine, Katie, Lewis and Lovett for all your help and support as well, for all the dinners that were made, all the pickups and drop offs and especially the support for Racey while she was sick during the times I was so very busy. Thank you to Steven, Jason, Richie and Andre for the help on specific days when I was crunched. Many hands make light work!

By lunch time we had the chicks settled in Coop 4, whose name may not be the pinnacle of farm creativity, but we made up for this by painting bright orange numbers to delineate one coop from the next. I spent the rest of the day running around fixing water lines and fixing other small issues. Dinner was our equivalent of fast food: humus, fresh vegetables and scrambled eggs. I fell asleep at 7:30 singing bedtime songs to the kids.

Something changes when you cross the finish line, even if the line is just a mark in the dirt you drew yourself. The hurry and focus that kept my stamina inflated, left me feeling a bit like the balloons long after the birthday party had ended. At the same time, the out breath is needed and appreciated by those around me. 

As is often the case, and something I have written about before is how Lewis and Lovett are a powerful reflection of me. The myopic nature of my project brain left my parent brain behind and so it was a welcome change for all of us on Wednesday to help Gampy (grandpa John) unload the chicks into the brooder. Lovett woke up on Wednesday with a scratchy throat and “soggy eyes.” For the first time in weeks I found the clarity to keep her home and close with me to rest and recover.

The brooder in the first few hours after the chicks arrive is like recess in the middle school gym: pandemonium. Chicks dart every which way, and they incessantly follow your feet around. (Watch your step!) And of course Lewis and Lovett have discovered that if you lie down in the brooder the new chicks will pile on top of you = giggles and the chirping of 450 chicks.

As I puttered in the brooder, I noticed Lovett talking quietly and seriously with two chicks she held in each hand, like there was a very important matter to attend to. Next I knew, Lovett had gone back to the house and Lewis had a concerned look on his face, perhaps the look of a troubled conscience. 

Lewis confided in me that Lovett had taken two chicks back to the house to live with her in her bedroom. But she didn’t want him to tell me about it. 

And so it begins.

Immediately I felt the inner turmoil of parent and production farmer. 

Farmer: But the brooder is all set up for the chicks, the house will get dirty, how will we dial in the temperature, what’s the proper square footage…

Parent: perfect. Animals have so much to teach us. 

Lovett came back down to the barn and found a cardboard box, we filled it with peat bedding, used a yogurt lid for a feed dish, found  a manual waterer and a heat lamp, and we were in business. Then we determined that the chicks needed a mama hen to show them where to peck and scratch and when to come inside to get warm. So the chicks have taken up residence in our living room, and we are learning their sounds, their needs and what they do not need (like cotton blankets or dresses).

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Juneteeth: a family story and remembrance.

In a fitting coincidence, Lewis has been reading the Magic Tree House series in the last few months and it has marked his full and utter immersion into reading. This week we started reading book 21 where Jack and Annie go back in time to the Civil War. It was a fitting introduction to the question: why is it a holiday today?

For those who belittle the cultural significance of holidays, just ask the parents what conversations and significance is bestowed on our children when seemingly the whole world pays homage to a certain topic by having a holiday. The concept of slavery, civil war, and a divided citizenry are complex and as a parent I tend to err on the side of preserving of innocence for the under 10 crowd. 

For this reason I was curious to see where the Magic Tree House book would take the story? As a parent I have been impressed by the author’s ability to create an engaging story, address and bring to life tumultuous times in history and keep the kids engaged. But how do you make the Civil War appropriate for 8 year olds?

There is a scene in the book where Jack and Annie go to help in a field hospital, which is understaffed and in need of hands to feed and care for patients. Annie is cheerful and driven to help the patients and charges on ahead, while Jack is worried about saying the wrong thing. They enter a tent that is filled exclusively with African-Americans. Jack goes to help one man in bed and offers words of encouragement like: you’ll get better soon and go home to see your family. The man replies “No, I won’t. They were sold many years ago.”

At this point, Lewis and Lovett stop me to clarify: like “sold” in a store sort of thing? 

I take a deep breath, nod and keep reading.

Jack realizes his blunder, having just read in a history book (that they use to magically travel through time) about slavery in the United States. He remembers some advice from a nurse on how to care for the patients: lessen sorrow and give hope.

Jack closes his eyes for a moment and leans towards the man and says:

“One day your great-great-grandchildren will be doctors and lawyers…they will help run the government and schools. They’ll be senators, and generals, and teachers and principals.” (I added “and the president of our government too” since this was written before Barack Obama was president.) 

The man opens his eyes, looks at Jack and asks: “Can you see the future, son?”

Jack nods and replies: “In a way…”

I found my throat clenched with emotion and I took a few deep breaths. A tear dripped down my cheek. Lovett asked, “Why are you crying Papa?”  

“I have tears of sadness and hope at what happened in our past and what change is possible.”