Everyone was cheery and ready to go. Don't ask who left homework and supplies at home. (um, Logan AND Avery!) Finley thought she was a big kid at the bus stop.
The bus stop crew. See the tiny little girl (3rd from the left)? She is in Avery's class! See the big girl on the far right? She is in Logan's. Don't judge a kid by their size is the lesson I take from this.
The thermometer when I went out to meet the afternoon bus.
Today I volunteered my time, energy and the contents of my stomach for these people. I doubt I will do this again, but I am still processing my experience of working the MPPU. The learning curve was quick and by my 4th or 5th bird I felt pretty good about my final product. As the day warmed and the odors increased I started to struggle. After bird 32 or so I lost my breakfast in the horse field. Not fun. I did get back on the line but then only pulled off another 7 or 8 birds before quitting. Photos show only the first birds going through. Imagine the blood, feathers, shit and viscera after 400 birds have gone through. Buckets of heads and feet, buckets of steaming livers, neck, gizzards and hearts. In the heat. I've showered and brushed and scrubbed my body but can still smell fresh, raw chicken.
I admitted my defeat to Jen and scrubbed up to leave only to hear her announce to "Finish your bird and we'll break for lunch. A lunch provided by Verrill Farm. Darn. So close to a lovely meal. But now, 6 hours later I'm still slightly nauseous. An experience I'm glad to have but I don't think I'll repeat.
Something continues to ravage the garden. Now the corn stalks are being knocked over. The cobs are left intact, but the stalks are chewed up just a tiny bit. So the unripe cobs sit on the ground. Ala Jen's cuke blog I thought I would show cob sizes. The cobs on the left are pretty large and should be colored more than they are. Maybe saving hybrid seeds doesn't work? The cobs on the right are Larry's. As in seed he sent from Hawaii. That is the entire crop of Hawaiian corn. The germination rate was poor and the varmint appeal was high.
The chickens enjoyed the meal of fresh corn.
Finley (aka Fittin' Finley for the tantrums she throws) is always angry that Avery can hand feed the chickens and she can't. Perhaps, Finley, if you stopped screaming for more than oh, say, 34 seconds, they might come closer to you.
My garden is a failure. It started off well (doesn't it always?), but I have battled a groundhog/woodchuck and lost. My fencing is no match for him/her. An eaten butternut squash.
A row of soybeans chewed down. He doesn't touch the pods, just the leaves. 3 bites out of a cuke and then left to yellow and rot. Can't it just eat one damn cuke and not take one bite each out of 30?
Another poor squash.
When I left the rental plot I was pretty depressed and decided I would go home and pull up some potatoes as a pick me up. This is what I found at home.
A tomato plant that the day before had been full and lush and covered in almost ripe tomatoes. Now- stripped bare. Deer? Can Rabbits get that high? I don't know. And the potatoes? A little too close to the hose so the kids often "helped" me water them. Lots of large potato skins full of rotted, fully liquid potato. Sigh....
Clearly we don't *need* this food, but it is frustrating nevertheless. The kids are enjoying my neglect as I brood. This is how they would spend their lives if permitted.