I got the nicest complement today from a friend who came for lunch.

You’re doing a lot of things, and doing them well.

I usually hear just the first part.  And so I blew it off, maybe too quickly, rather than reveling in it for a moment.

“You say that standing in the explosion of my living room.”

“I see clothes, food, tools; looks like a normal house to me.”

I felt an unspeakable gratitude, but couldn’t help adding, “Jay thinks we’re the only people who live like this.”

“He should pick up the milk this week,” she said, referring to the milk share we from one of their goats.  “Then he’ll see our place.”

~ ~ ~

But it’ll be me driving out to their place this week; Jay’s still up to his eyeballs & racing for the finish-line before his next big trip.

~ ~ ~

So, quick update, since I don’t know when I’ll write next.

Since the last time I wrote:

• We finished the rabbit set-up
• Had our first litter of meat bunnies a week and a half ago
• I plucked Serena (the wool rabbit) half bald. The top half.
  • Yes, it freaked me out to see the finished rabbit.
  • No, it’s not cruel; the hair only comes when it’s ready.  This is the first time she’s she’s shed like this since I got her in March.
• Thursday I bought a “used” flock of Chickens.  Ten 15-month-old birds, already laying.
  • Six different breeds of hen
  • They threw in a rooster
    • Natasha wants to throw him back
    • I think he’s handsome, and better behaved than other roosters I’ve known.
  • A few of them have foot-issues (I believe the seller when she says she didn’t know.  None of my other chicken people knew what I was talking about or have noticed the thing before.)
    • One of the hens was effected enough I started giving her penicillin Friday and performed surgery today: opened three different places in her (MASSIVELY) swollen foot and forced out solidified results of infection.
      • (Sorry, should I have started that one out with a TMI warning? I tried to keep it as vague as possible.)
        • Believe me, I could say more.
    • Tried to repeat the procedure on another affected bird, but his case is less-advanced, and he wasn’t as patient a patient.  Maybe one has to be in a “this can’t be any worse” state before surgery isn’t worth reacting to.

So now we officially have chickens, ducks and rabbits on our little farm.

Before it even has a name.

Before we have a composting system figured out.

This land is all tailings, like I think I’ve said before.  No particularly good soil for growing. 

But here we are with all these animals putting out useful stuff that’s mixing with their bedding and dirt et. al., so I figure if we have a way of processing all this we won’t have to buy dirt whenever we get around to starting gardening.

Yeah.
I’m not really researching that.

Just recognizing that I should eventually, and knowing that my complete apathy toward such a critical element a soil is not laziness, but full-ness.

I’m doing a lot of things.  Doing them well, may it please God, but definitely reaching my limits.