The Seven Chicks

I ended up with seven chicks: 2 brown, 2 white, one gray, one with brown/black stripes, and one black. And oh! So fluffy and adorable! Especially that lone little black one there. I'll take better pictures soon, but for now I'm trying to leave them under that warm, red bulb and close to their adoptive Mama. They come out from under her wings only to peck at food, crowd around the water, and play. Then it's back under Mama.

It was a wonderful weekend, taking cocoa to the hen house and watching the chicks. It was calming... oddly soothing, somehow... and I became engrossed in watching the new life, watching them waddle and peck and flap their tiny wings for the first time. I wish everyone- children, especially- could have that moment, too.

Today I'm working at finishing this quilt... finally!... and putting together another round of knitted goodies for my online shop. That, and baking bread and putting together a chicken spaghetti. I think some hot comfort food is in order to keep this cozy magic about the place.

Hope your day is cozy. -Brin
 

Shabby Apple Giveaway Winner!

Good morning, you!

Just popping in to say that we have a winner for last week's Shabby Apple $50 Gift Card Giveaway: it's Timber! 

Big thanks to all who entered. We'll have to do another Giveaway soon! In the meantime, Shabby Apple is offering an additional 10% off all sale items... just use the code FALLSALE at checkout.

Thanks again! Hoping something happy finds you today. -Brin

Unto Us A Chick Is Born...

It was early. Chilly. The coldest morning we've had in months, in fact. I hadn't had coffee.

I was in my pajama pants, trying to move quietly toward the hen house but still making a ruckus- crunchy leaves have blown into my little barn, pine shavings have littered out, a tin bucket had fallen from a nail and gotten in my path. So I couldn't hear that little cheep cheep cheep coming from under Hephzibah's feathers.

Wow, was it chilly. I filled the chicken feeder, checked on everyone, tossed them handfuls of grass, and went back in.

But today is the day. It takes chicken eggs 21 days to hatch, give or take how ambitious the chick is. And today is Day 21. Eight eggs... three weeks... and today's the day.
 

 

Millie and I went back out to check a little while later. And to my amazement, in the back of the nesting box, a miracle: a tiny, already fluffed-out chick!

I screeched, jumped up and down, and went into a flurry of action: Mama, unhatched eggs, and chick went from the nesting box into my make-shift brooder. Although I've heard not to handle chicks as the Mama won't want them with your smell all over them- I took a chance. I dipped the little one's beak in the electrolyte water and pecked at the chick mash so it would take note.

Four hours later, the little one is already eating chick mash and playing on Hephzibah. And the countdown for the remaining little ones is on. 

From our cozy little place to yours, have a great weekend! -Brin

Egg Empress

I had rather be on my farm

than be emperor of the world. 

-George Washington

It's egg delivery day, today is. Every shop in town is out of cartons, so I loaded eggs into grass nests in sacks. Necessity, and all. 

A friend down the road is raising meat rabbits, and we were discussing a fair trade of our goods. A deal was struck, so I guess I'm going to be learning to make rabbit stew this fall. Isn't it strange how tough times are forcing life to come full-circle? As badly as I want to return to Dallas some days, I can't imagine it, really. 

I'd rather be in my little wooden house with my garden patch and chickens than be empress of the world...


(Oh! Don't forget: you still have time to enter the Shabby Apple Gift Card Giveaway! Would hate for you to miss out! -Brin) 

Shabby Apple Giveaway!

 Photo Credit: Shabby Apple

I've been watching one of my favorite movies- Charlotte Gray- and dreaming of a new fall dress this week. What is it about the change of seasons that has us ladies wanting something pretty and different to wear?

And boy do I ever have good news on that front!

Shabby Apple is offering you, my dear reader, a chance to win a $50 Gift Card good for anything on their beautiful site. Hmmm... what will you get? A vintage dress, maybe? Or a casual dress? How about a lacy dress or a retro dress?

Or maybe not a dress at all. Maybe you've been wanting a special occasion blouse. Or bag. Or jewelry. Whatever you've been wishing for and denying yourself, here's your chance to bring it home and step out in something new this fall!

Photo Credit: Shabby Apple

So how does this work? Simple as pumpkin pie:

-  Visit www.shabbyapple.com and pick your favorite item.

-  Come back here and tell me about it in the comments. That's it!

-  For additional chances to win, you can also:

         -  Like Shabby Apple on Facebook

         -  Tweet about the giveaway with the hashtag:
            #shabbyapplegiveaway

         -  Post about this giveaway on your blog 

If you do Facebook, tweet, or post this giveaway, be sure to come back and tell us in the comments so you'll have your name in the hat a few extra times! Everyone can have a total of 4 possible entries. And you must have a USA shipping address to be eligible to win. 

So what are you waiting for? Go on over to Shabby Apple now, pick your pleasure, and come back and tell me about it! Thank you for entering! This Giveaway is now closed.

Good luck!  ;)  -Brin

A Win at Winter Gardening

I went to the Feed Store today. It's my retail therapy. Some women go to the mall, or the shoe store, or Sephora. I go to the old barn by the railroad tracks where they've sold feed- and roasted peanuts- for 100 years. My Dad started taking me there when I was nine. It's my happy place.

That, and the yarn shop. But that's another post entirely.

While doing a bit of online seed shopping recently, I came across a "new" type of broccoli and ordered the seeds. I'd hoped to start them today, but they aren't in yet, so I got impatient and went into town for some coffee and look-see at the Feed Store. Is it too early for broccoli sets? Wasn't sure.

I grow broccoli every spring. Trouble is, the springs here in Texas have been getting so warm so quickly that the broccoli, lettuce, kale, peas, onions... all those cool weather crops... burn to a crisp before we get them out of the ground. So we're all getting smart and adapting to our environment, I suppose you could say: this year, our winter gardens are enormous.

Which is a joke in itself. Winter? Texas?? Cue the belly laughs.

I lay awake last night thinking, if we're all going to garden in the winter now, why doesn't someone put out onion sets like they do in the spring? We have to think differently if we expect different results, after all. So after losing sleep last night over onion sets, I nearly shouted when I turned a corner and saw these tucked between an old shelf and the Feed Store's moaning side gate. Onion sets! For winter! We'll have onions, after all!

For just a moment, I was Laura Ingalls Wilder and onion sets were butter.

 

It's a good thing, too. The onion seeds I started are looking a little... floppy. And this winter, I desperately wanted a win...

Golden, Fading Colors

 

It's a slow one, today is. I scattered grain for the chickens, collected eggs, and then wandered around the place, pulling at dried-up herbs and swatting at tangled webs holding nothing but leaves.

So glad it's autumn now. It's my favorite season. Time for pumpkins and cocoa and raking and spices and golden, fading colors.

Happy fall to you, wherever today finds you.  -Brin
 

Summer Shop Sale...

It's incredible the amount of yarn and tea a girl can go through in the summer. I've stopped many times these past three months and noticed either a glass of iced tea or a tightly-wound ball of yarn close by. It's made me smile.

The end result is that my shop Balm and Honey is stocked with the fruits of my summer labor. Color, shapes, and texture like you wouldn't believe. It's been so fun!

And I'd even like to offer you 10% off... just enter the code GOODBYESUMMER and you'll save instantly.

Happy looking! ...My thanks and best, always. -Brin

What I Recognize As Belonging

An expectation is a future object, 

recognized as belonging to me.

-Samuel Alexander

 

A summer storm blew a limb onto the power line yesterday. The chickens were terrified and ran to the coop as the power company came with their chain saws and bucket-in-the-sky truck to cut it all down. I watched from the kitchen window as wood fell, heavy and splintered.

The kitchen in the little red house is dated and cramped. Folks ask for pictures of the house, but it's not much. Honest. If I weren't so focused on saving and preparing for my future cabin, I'd fuss with it. As it is, I put out my stuff and wipe counters and move along.

And of course put out candles and plants. Candles, plants, and good soap. Always.

In the meantime, while I'm here, I visit my Cabin board on Pinterest to plan and dream. I focus not on this house, but on the expectation of my future object- a place I've long recognized as belonging to me...

A Few Glimpses Into the Life of a Girl Who Keeps Chickens

 

 

 

 

Ten Things

1. I'm glad it's August. Having done July well, I'm eager to see "AUGUST" written across the top of the calendar page. Fall, and relief from the 100+ degree heat, is on the way!

2. I'm making homemade frozen pizzas. Why have I never done this before? Anything to save money on the grocery bill.

3. Speaking of pizza... and saving money... has anyone down South planted tomatoes seeds in August to grow a fall crop? I'm going to try it and see what happens.

4. I'm kicking myself for cutting up beautiful fabric to start a new quilt, then changing my mind on the pattern. Dang it! ;)

5. Time off coming this month- from work and from the Prayer Room. I'm busy 6 days a week, 15+ hours a day, so this is exciting stuff!

6. Chickens are laying!! Love these fresh, brown eggs!

7. This is the most gorgeous music. It's on repeat. 

8. I'm wanting to reread The Forgotten Garden. If you haven't sat down with this one yet, you're missing out!

9. I'm itching to redecorate my living room. Since that's not in the budget, maybe new throw pillows and some flowers will do?

10. Ice cream. Wouldn't it be great if the two of us could sit down with a cone and chat for a few? 


Happy August!  -Brin

The Prayer Room

There's a little about what I'm up to today in my hometown paper. Hope you're having one of those weeks that isn't "one of those weeks", you know?  -Brin

 Anything for a quiet life. 

-Thomas Middleton

  

Cloudy morning. Dark, quiet kitchen. Herbs dry above the sink. Plants stand up for the light.

I make iced coffee, then a zucchini dish- one to keep and one to share. The only sounds I hear are of the scrape of grating green, and the flapping of chickens outside the window.

I think I'll read a book today and listen to violin music.
 

Anything for a quiet life.

Would You Look At This!

See this house? This old farmhouse with shiplap walls and original wood floors? 

It reminds me so much of Freeman House. And... it's mine if I want it. A nice lady wants to give me this house. For free. All I have to do is hire someone to move it 3 hours east, and then come up with a suitcase full of cash to pay them.

Insert hopeful/dare-I-dream/get real/never-gonna-happen/can you believe this?/this-stuff- only-yet-doesn't-happen-to-me sentiments here...
 

The Garden Gives Me Tomato Sauce.

In the winter, when you're straining your eyes seeing seeds into soil, breaking your back planting garlic, and freezing your fingers poking onions in the ground, you dream of this day: tomato sauce day.

Homemade, homegrown pizza-and-pasta sauce day.

I have the magic bubbling on the stove now. Fresh, sun-ripened tomatoes... onions I planted in long rows... garlic I ordered as cloves from Missouri... basil grown from seed- all of it went into my scuffed, black pot this morning. It's been puft puft puft-ing contentedly since. I'll eat what I can and freeze the rest for later.

Ever since Deb debuted her tomato sauce recipe, I've been messing with it. I add onions, a touch of olive oil, and herbs to mine, though. It tastes heavenly. (If you make it, don't skip the butter.) Totally worth all the work to make it happen. And so affordable when you grow it all yourself!

Here's to summer, hardworking girls everywhere, and the sweet taste of success, huh? -Brin

If you know somethin' well...

If you know somethin' well, you can always paint it 

but people would be better off buyin' chickens.

-Grandma Moses

 

I found my diary from 2002 the other day. I scarcely recognized the girl I read about in those pages. Brin from 2002 had this amazingly glitz life: reporting career in Dallas... dinner in high-rise restaurants... handsome boyfriend... fancy shoes... condo decorated by a professional... appointments for facials... concert tickets. Man. Brin from 2012 has an amazingly messy life: tutoring English and writing at a local college... dinner from a crockpot... ugh, men... rubber boots with caked-on manure... a little red house... appointments at the vet... and rodeo tickets. My, how time changes everything.

The other night, as I was feeding the chickens, I told them a little about my old life. Colonel Heaven, the keeper of the flock, stood quietly and listened. I was telling him about people, places and things I missed: the old boyfriend, the Granada, riding DART to get facials. And then I told him how ridiculous I felt, standing in the dirt telling a chicken about the good old days like some prattling old lady who stands alone in a pasture talking to hay bales. I laughed and he crowed.

A dear lady wrote me last weekend and asked why I haven't published anything yet. I told her it's because I have to revisit that old life to tell my story, and for now I'm only ready to tell the entire thing to a flock of feathers. (I'm sure the lady now thinks I'm crazy.) But maybe I could paint it- a dark and clashing collection of colors bleeding across many canvases. After all, If you know somethin' well, you can always paint it...

...but people would be better off buyin' chickens.

(Oh! And if you're on Pinterest, help me add to my 'Chicken Littles' board, would you? :)

The Little Red House

I live in a little red house at the top of a small hill. Have I said? She sits, solemn and weathered, under two oak trees. Her red wooden boards and aging white trim are nailed on, the nail heads rusted in place. When it's windy you can hear her sigh. But she's a strong, resolute little house, and I feel safe inside her walls. I've been here going on two years.

Beside the house sits a little carport. It's leaning slightly and reminds me of an old country barn. At the back is the chicken coop with its heavy beams and old tin nesting boxes. My chicken feeder- a hand-me-down from the man who cuts grass for the local school- hangs from a thick, rusty chain. I like it in there- in the carport/barn and coop. One day I'll organize and show you.

I tried growing organic garlic again this year. I know it isn't time to harvest yet, but I had to pull most of it. The chickens discovered it and, hearing that garlic and chicken don't mix until dinner time, I had to get it out of the ground. Well, all except for a few spare cloves I sunk into soil last fall alongside the little red house. They're mixing well with cherry tomatoes now, and I hope they do well enough to provide me with seed garlic this fall. (It's all getting so expensive now, isn't it?)

Over the next few weeks I'll do my best to show you a few pictures of life around the little red house. Meanwhile, I have towels on the clothesline and cookies in the oven and some scrubbing to do. Talk soon, right?

Love from my little house to yours. -Brin

P.S. I'm trying to get in touch with a Shelly from WI who emailed me last week. Shelly, if you're reading this, my reply to you is bouncing back. Could you please write again? :)

Scattered... Like Chasing Wind

My thoughts are so scattered today:

You're too busy, Brin. Slow down : It's starting to rain. It needs to rain. Family's pasture caught on fire again and the well is running dry : Need to finish painting the lobby of the Prayer Room : Am I out of butter? I'm out of butter. Can't make lemon bars without butter : Agh! Today's Mom's birthday. Don't forget : Who's that calling? : Electrician. Coming tomorrow. : Call plumber for Atlanta Prayer Room. : Ohhhh... Target has a summer home catalog. Looks awesome! Remember to look at it later! : Get in attic and find that cool bowl sink you never used at Freeman House. Have it installed. : I need more Audra Lynn music. And is Norah Jones' new album out yet? Wonder if it's good. : Is it lunchtime yet? I'm hungry....

 Gotta rush off. I'm making this for dinner and need to run by the store before I continue on with my insane day. :)  Have a great week! -Brin

The Blueberry Patch

My very first job was picking blueberries. 

Each June- the first week, old man Harper would set up plywood signs and announce to the town that he was, in fact, selling blueberries. The bushes were planted in neat rows to the side of a huge barn that housed chickens, turkeys and ducks. To get to the blueberry patch, one followed the signs off the highway, onto the county road, off on another county road, up a hill and down a dirt road. Then you were there. As far as a kid could see there were blueberries.

We were paid 50 cents a pound back then for picking. Around 7 am we'd shuffle into the barn, grab two tin buckets, and hoof it to "the patch". I always walked farthest from the barn and away from the other kids so I'd have an untouched row. By 9 am, I'd meander back to the barn with my full buckets, dump them onto a screen and sift out any bugs, leaves, twigs and small berries, and weigh my haul on an ancient scale. Then it was back out to the patch. Every afternoon when I got off work, I'd drink a cold Dr. Pepper and squish my eyes shut, seeing only blueberry bushes. My 12-year-old self thought that was cool. 

I think I made $100 a summer. Something like that.

Those memories came back today as I needed to do something with the blueberries in my freezer. Here it is, nearly June, and I live 3 miles away from the old Harper farm. The family's dead or gone now and as far as I hear, no one's picked berries there for years. Maybe I'll drive out anyway just to see. I don't exactly need the berries, but I am curious...

Do you guys make jam? Fruit spreads? Anything of that nature? I'm hearing great things about some of the books that say: yes, you can make a lot of the things you buy at the store. Books such as Make the Bread, Buy the Butter, and The Homemade Pantry: 101 Things You Can Stop Buying and Start Making. I'm forever fascinated with growing and making things myself. Think I'll give some of these things a whirl.

But first, the blueberries. Time to see to them. It is nearly June, after all....

Playing Out

My Swiss chard is playing out. Each evening, after the scorching Texas sun has set, it looks as if it's fainting. My camera, too, has decided it wants to retire. I decided to take advantage of the fleeting moments with both and bring them together.

I have come to believe that Swiss chard is the perfect leafy green for me. I don't know how it tastes grown in other climates- as I've only had locally grown chard- but to me it's milder than spinach when steamed, has stalks that can be used in place of celery, and is a dream eaten raw. I've been chopping it into omelets, dips and salads, and sauteing the brilliant red and yellow stems into chicken salad, chicken and dressing and soups.

I'm curious what other gardeners are having success with this season, and perhaps what you think I should try. Anyone have suggestions?