Bee Tree Farm

Jeremy only missed a few critical points in conveying the story. He forgot to tell you what it feels like to have chickens tucked under each arm while wearing a bathrobe and flip flops on a pre-dawn, 40 degree morning. He didn’t mention the incomprehensible email sent to my bosses at 6a.m. explaining why I might not make the 7:30a.m. meeting. He might also have failed to mention that the story in my email was, at this point, viewed as hilarious by said bosses who read it out loud to staff, clients, anyone who would listen. So, when I finally stumbled into the conference, I was met with every chicken and raccoon comment, joke, and advice imaginable. My phone call to Academy Sports and Outdoors to verify that they do actually sell fox urine only increased the day-long public ridicule. I also think he forgot to mention the final conference session I attended in which the presenter opened with the classic comment: “Hey – aren’t you the woman with the dead chicken and the fox pee?” Of course, I was aiming to make a more professional impression on clients and colleagues, but this will have to do for now.

Additionally, there was no commentary on Boo’s health, which is fine save the odd wound we discovered Sunday evening near his leg. Jeremy managed a trip to the land last night to check on our patient before heading out for the raccoon repellent. When it rains….

And finally, the biggest omission from yesterday’s saga was something Jeremy didn’t witness during the early morning nap he snuck in before work. Once Eleanor was removed and the girls were settled, the two lowest ranking hens in the backyard pecking order (Graciela and Dita von Teese. Don’t question the chicken names, people) flew from their roosts onto the ground. As if on command, each set off in opposite directions along the fenceline, marching out and defining their territory. Stomp, stomp, stomp, stop, turn, cock head to listen, shake feathers to look twice her size….stomp, stomp, stomp. They marched for two hours until the sun rose while the other ladies slept off their shock. Two little soldiers standing sentinel throughout the remainder of the dark morning.
I already knew my life was becoming more mixed up and poorly defined the further we delved into the land/homesteading projects. I accept that our choices have been, in many cases, unconventional. And I see the humor in it. But it’s lonely to feel like it’s just the two of us sitting at computers by day and patching up donkeys at night. Which is why, yet again, Jenna Woginrich of Cold Antler Farm has been such a great discovery. Her recent article published in Mother Earth News sums it all up, makes us feel a little less crazy, and puts us in a category with a few others. If ever there was any doubt, yesterday proved that we’ve both got a terrible case of Barnheart.