Morning Chores

Morning Chores

Fiona does chores, feeds chickens and collects eggs

It was 10 minutes before I had to be out the door for work. The baby had been up several times throughout the night (teething) and I was tired. Husband had made me a cup of tea and a breakfast sandwich to go. Since I was ready early (solely because I didn’t have enough time to shower), I thought I might indulge in eating at home instead of on the run.

“Why don’t you take Fiona out to feed this morning?” Husband prodded.

(I used to do all the feedings of our animals. But when I was pregnant, I had severe nausea and fatigue and struggled to make it into work each day, so Husband took over. His work day is more flexible than mine anyway. When I went back to work after my maternity leave, I was the one juggling Fiona’s drop-off each morning, so while I hurried out the door with more bags than I could count (laptop bag, purse, lunch, bottle bag with empty bottles for me, bottle bag with full bottles for her, diaper bag, etc.), Husband continued to feed.)

When he suggested I feed this morning, my first thought was “you’ve got to be kidding me”. Read more

Barred Rock Rooster

Barred Rock Rooster

So we’ve had this Barred Rock rooster for about a year now, and he’s remained unnamed the entire time we’ve had him.

He’s been overshadowed most of this time, by a white rooster (we think a Leghorn), that was louder and prouder than this guy. But two roosters with six hens is NOT a good ratio, so we had to choose one to go. We re-homed our other rooster and he has his own flock of hens to protect now. Reports indicate he is loving his new home.

Barred Rock Rooster

This guy, he’s gorgeous. A little quieter, and a little gentler. He is also larger — a dark, almost imposing figure in the coop.

So it was finally time to name this guy, and I think I selected a good one: Rochester.

Named for the hero of a favorite Gothic novel, Jane Eyre.

Now, is it time to name the hens?

Hope found in apples

Hope found in apples

I look forward to the day when Husband and I are able to do a little homesteading of our own. But searching for an affordable place with a few acres in a good location is an exercise in patience. (And we have been searching, for over a year and a half…) I want a wood stove or fireplace in the worst way, especially as fall descends and hints at the winter to come. I want to be chopping and stacking firewood, loading and stacking bales of hay (lots of stacking going on in my dreams).

I want to be gleaning the last of our homegrown goods from the garden, but our recent move meant that we had to give up the garden. For now.

We don’t have chickens of our own for fresh eggs, and we no longer live next to someone who does. But a coworker can bring us fresh eggs. And that will do. For now.

It isn’t time for all of that yet. And I want to live in the time and place where we are right now.

So I’m thankful for the rental home we are in that has plenty of room for our dozens and dozens of potted plants and trees (awaiting a permanent home), and a fenced yard for the puppy to play, and a large garage where we can store all the things we will need someday.

And even though the night sounds we listen to are of sirens instead of crickets, we can start the life we dream of in some small ways.

I have some lovely wool on my knitting needles and I’m learning, little by little, how to make a sweater.

Windows are open and blankets and quilts abound in our home right now.

And when we went camping for our anniversary, Husband and I picked up several bushels of apples, Empires and Gold Rush, that we will make into delicious applesauce. We’ll can everything and enjoy it for weeks and months to come–through the cold winter and all the way until next fall (we hope).

It will be quite the chore, but one I will relish with the promise it holds for the future. Hope abounds in the fall.

Apples