For example, when putting in the spring garden, my husband requested that we grow as many tomato plants as our space could hold. I put in 12 and after all the delicious spring rain, the plants exploded. Enter tyranny of the urgent example 1: Garden produce.
Over the last month, we have found ourselves with an exceptional crop of tomatoes...more than we can eat. Tomatoes, being rather time sensitive little fruit, maintain an "Eat me now, or I'll rot" motto. On days when I'd have much rather been at the splash pad, I've found myself prepping and canning tomatoes. As much as I don't care to be working over the stove on a hot summer day, I hate waste even more.
So, canned tomatoes.
Plus, I'm a complete sucker for mason jars, and especially how they look, filled with my garden produce. Few things make me want to put on Little House on the Prairie reruns more than canning. But I digress.
Aren't they lovely?!!
This summer has also been the beginning of my daughters' careers as budding artists. Olivia's first project was to smuggle a red crayon into her room during naptime, and draw the letter "O", 4 year old arm-height, across two of her walls. The O's were followed by lines with tick marks struck through them. It was reminiscent of "The Great Escape", with her marking the minutes until her release from her room. Upon discovery of her art, Olivia's mother was less than enthused. That day also happened to be the one in which Olivia learned how to use a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. Some crayon marks remain. A reminder to us all, that crayons are NOT allowed in bedrooms.
For Emma, she has enjoyed some coloring on paper, and recently, expressed herself through watercolor. Below is her first work. Lovely shades of sea-green and emerald on the page...and all over her clothes and face. I guess the colors were so lovely that she simply couldn't resist tasting them. Had I not been so quick with the washcloth, I should have taken a picture of the art on her face, too.
Finally, another insanely time consuming job this summer, has been trying to keep my chickens alive. After the winter, our original flock had dwindled down to 7, so we paid a visit to the feed store and picked up a new flock of chicks. Once we got them home, it seemed like the Grimm Reaper had descended.
One of my Australorp hens came down with a case of vertigo, another Red became sick, and they both had to be "excused" from the flock. That left the head count at 4 hens and our dear rooster, Handsome Rob. As for the little chicks, two were so tiny that they were found trampled to death after the first day, another croaked for unknown reasons, and then during the summer (Massacre of 2015) months, we lost 8 to a still unknown aerial predator. That left us to under a dozen hens in the new flock...and Hank.
Hank the Turkey (short for Hanksgiving) joined the flock just a week after we got the new baby hens. He was picked on until he started gaining some height and weight. A visiting friend sounded his turkey call with Hank nearby, and we got to watch him puff up and display his splendor for the first time. It was hilarious.
Since then, because we enjoy cheap entertainment, Andrew and I have been working on our own turkey calls. (For anyone taking notes, please add this to the list of things I'd never imagine I'd be doing!) Andrew ended up cheating and got a turkey call, but I believe that deep in his heart, Hank knows a truly female call. He has rewarded my novice efforts with his butterball feather display, fancy turkey strut and chuffing sound. He's been a fun bird to have around, but as soon as I can make space in the freezer, he's going to serve his purpose as our Thanksgiving, Hanksgiving turkey dinner.
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