It's a Kombucha Mushroom.

A long, long while ago, we watched this cute Kid Snippets about health food. Maybe we thought it was funny because there were so many points that rung true. :shrugs: One of the lines that we constantly quote is, "It's dreen. Why is it dreen?" The other blip that gets tossed around frequently is the kombucha blip, and for good reason. We have the mushrooms sitting on the counter. I'd like to introduce you to Phil and Baby Phil.

Bonus points to whoever can catch the reference(s) in the names of our SCOBYs

And what does SCOBY stand for? Symbiotic Colony of Bacteria and Yeast

Mmmm! Want some?

We originally had several mason jars of the SCOBYs, and they were all numbered (in our heads anyway). The only issue with that rotational system of kombucha consumption and fermentation is that, for a really odd reason, we couldn't keep the numbers straight, so the SCOBY colonies each got a name. And they all tasted weird. Except for Phil. Phil is our favorite. ;) Then Phil had a baby! Phil is a girl? :shrugs: Okay. Once Phil's baby had grown independent enough to live on its own, that SCOBY also got it's own jar. Eventually, we got to the point where we only drank kombucha from these two colonies. All the others stayed on their place up on the refrigerator, culturing away. 

The other day, Mom found GIANT jars for Phil and his family. It's now time to start this cranking through this kombucha making process. The ultimate goal is to not need to buy anymore from the store; you can buy an entire box of tea (kombucha fodder is essentially sweet tea) for the price of a small-ish bottle of the fermented tea. 

...SPIDER!!!

Generally, we aren't too freaked out by spiders (unless you're a certain sister of mine). The general rule of thumb is that if it's in the house, it gets squished. Outside, you're invading their space. There are exceptions to this rule. Cleaning the garage for instance...
It's already a nasty job - cleaning the garage. But it needs to be done. You're already not wanting to do it, then a spider comes out. Oh, it's just a daddy long legs? No biggie. Then another spider crawls along. Suck him into the vacuum as well. Then something black and slightly vicious looking comes creeping out. BLACK WIDOW!!!! Never before have I seen my mom freak out about a spider; I guess there's a first for everything. Well, after that, we had the heebie jeebies. We'd get chills at random moments. We looked up black widow bite symptoms because we, as a committee, couldn't decide if they were lethal or not. According to Dr. Google, you'll get stiff, become feverish, vomiting, nausea, and get extreme abdominal pain. One bite probably won't kill you, but you'll probably wish that you were dead. Now we're scared to empty out the shop vac... we just might have another vacuum on standby just in case. Our grand kill total that we know of? 4 spiders and two egg sacks. So far. We're not done with the garage yet. Then it's on to the basement.

Mudroom

It's called a mudroom for a reason. The sole purpose of this area in the house is to hopefully catch most of the dirt that inevitably gets tracked in on a daily basis. Now, I'm not saying that those footprints are mine or anything... 

Trimming Troubles

The lawn was about a foot tall. That was several weeks ago.
So we tried to fire up the old(er) mower, but it wouldn't even sputter to life. It's dead, Jim.

Since no one in the clan is overly handy with machinery repair, we heaved it into the back of the pickup and headed down the hill. After they did some basic tune-ups, we brought it home and gave it a test run. After 1 1/2 laps around the yard, it started to lose power. :face palm:

So we loaded it up into the truck again. While waiting for repairs to be made, we made do with using the line trimmer and brush mower to hack the lawn to a tolerable height. 

What was the matter with it this time? The transmission. I guess you learn something new every day - riding lawn mowers have transmissions. And they're not cheap. After deliberating between getting a new mower and getting our old one fixed, we banked on a new tranny.

Well, it came back home this afternoon, and we took it for a test spin around the yard. It purred and happily trimmed the lawn to as even as it could with all the mole hills and tunnels. Hopefully it keeps trimming for a long time. ;)

Farm Girl Fashion

 Or 'lack there-of' is more of what I should say. Just humor me for a moment - think of all the things that are fashionable or in style. Could you walk out to the barn in those cute heels without making a llama look at you funny? Could you climb the barn ladder in that adorable dress? Are you able to easily move around and get work done in skinny jeans? Are the chickens chasing you around trying to peck at those manicured nails? (PS - red is their favorite color)

Photos courtesy of Christi

Needless to say, I think you're right to assume that 99% of my wardrobe is purely practical.

- Thrift store denim. Even if those $60 jeans fit perfectly and look simply amazing, I can't justify spending more than $10 since I'm just going to have them completely worn out and stained in a week... I just filled a bin with jeans that I've destroyed. I'll have to come up with different uses for all that denim.

- A lot of old t-shirts. And new t-shirts. But those become 'old' very quickly. Have you noticed how flimsy t-shirts have become lately? They're already thread bare before they even hit the store shelves!

- Every farm girl needs a canvas coat. I've killed countless other coats and sweatshirts, but my old faithful Carhartt has yet to give up on me.

- Boots. Not the fashion boots either. I kinda need my footwear to have tread so I don't slip in the mud and muck. ;) I've got leather boots, muck boots, rubber boots, slip-on wanna-be-boots...

- Everything in the closet is fair game for working outside. You never know when something might happen, and you won't have time to change out of your 'nice' clothes. ;) Heck, I've been out there checking on meat chickens in the field in my pj's. I've been picking out dry grass particles ever since.

- I just got my annual pair of flip flops. My impractical chore shoes that I treat like they're indestructible  Can't wait for the warmer weather! Once the sandals decide to go belly up, summer is done. If they don't last that long, I blame the manufacturer for making them cheaply and buy another pair from the clearance rack.

What about the last 1% of my closet? Well, after that shpill, rant, whatever you want to call it, I have something to add:

I. Love. Dresses.

I even have shoes to go with those dresses that make getting from the house to the car  a tripping hazard waiting to happen. I will pull the 'I can't check on the critters right now because I don't want to get my clothes dirty' card.

So, yes, even if most of my clothes make me look like a tomboy, there is still a girly-girl in me that loves feeling pretty and feminine. Maybe it's because the rest of the week I look like I live in a barn. And that's not very far from the truth. ;)

Bucket Hoarder

Picture stolen from here

Something about being on a farm...
You tend to collect stuff.
A lot of stuff.
Tools.
Implements.
Out buildings to store implements.
Scrap wood.
A shed to keep the scrap wood dry.
Pallets.
Mismatched dirty socks.
Bills.
Duct tape.
Saw blades.
Broken things.
Sputtering things that won't start.
Fencing supplies. Or at least enough supplies for part of the job.
Old cats.
...
Buckets.

Yes, dear reader, buckets.

There are a thousand and one uses for buckets!
You can haul feed, carry water, collect water from a down spout, drill a hole at the bottom to water baby trees, tote all the supplies for a project to the site, put extra milk in to clabber for a chicken treat, trap a mean rooster when you are otherwise defenseless, loading up with garden bounty, soaking bare root trees until you can get them in the ground, empty out an aquarium, contain the snake when cleaning the tank, soaking grains, sitting on it, contain paint, collect rocks and treasures, use as a hat, catching a drip, berry picking, 'bucket listing,' keep compost contained until you get it to the pile, etc, etc, etc. I'm sure I'll forever be adding to this list.

But you can't do all these jobs with one bucket. Eww. That would be rather unsanitary. So you amass enough to equip an army. It doesn't usually all happen at once - slowly, slowly, you gather some for this job, when they're on sale, or just cause you feel like you don't have enough. But then your neighbor brings down a pickup truck load (not exaggerating here). He bought them to water his baby Christmas trees, but purchased too many. So he gave the left overs to us. He said something about us being able to use them. ;) We can haz buckets now. If you ever have a job that needs a bucket, I think we've got that department covered.

My fan club

picture from here

I have a big fan club. A big fan club. There are about 50 members, and they haunt the front yard. Always watching me. And I can't seem to shake them. They follow me everywhere. Especially if I'm carrying a large bowl that is overflowing with food scraps to the compost pile. Oh, did I not explain... my chickens adore me. And they have associated me with free handouts. Sometimes I don't even get a step out of the garage, and I have poultry running towards me. Then I trill out the 'come and get it' chicken call, and they all come running. Have you ever seen a chicken running? It is most unnatural. Then they realize that they don't like everything that was in the compost bowl and give me a funny look as if to say, "Excuse me, ma'am, I ordered some apples and oatmeal. Not slimy lettuce. I'd like a refund." Of course, I take pity on the chickens because they just ran across the yard. I have to make the run worth it somehow. So they follow me over to the barn and wait patiently for a couple handfuls of their feed. With the girls ravenously pecking through the free meal, I'm able to continue on my work without tripping on an excited chicken.