It swirls, flies, and blows with every minute wisp of wind. Nothing is untouched, no matter how well guarded. Nothing is safe. It creeps into every crevice imaginable. There is no escaping it. It leaves its inevitably permanent mark on everything it comes in contact with. During the driest of times it is swept up by the wind and transformed into miniature versions of terrifying twisters. Well, maybe not terrifying. Unless you know what it is capable of.
If you live in Georgia, you know what I am talking about. If not, then maybe you have heard of it. Songs have been written about it. Shirts have been sold in a strange sort of remembrance of it. There is nothing to stop it from causing it irreparable damage.
Red Georgia clay.
Unless you have been subjected to the wrath of this southern menace you cannot fathom the destruction that follows it. All of my clothes bares its mark. Shoes? Ha! There are no white shoes in our home. Even our white goats have taken on an unusual reddish hue.
The moving of dirt in preparation for the house made it worse. Now, when it rains, little red rivers come flowing down the hill. I believe that there is nothing more slippery than wet Georgia clay. The dogs have been known to slip and slide through it on a rainy day. Yours truly has toppled, in a most ungraceful manner, to the gooey ground on at least one illfated occasion.
Wet or dry there is nothing endearing to me about Georgia clay. There is nothing fun about red mop water, red bath water, red dog water, red…well, you get the picture. Bleach does virtually nothing to combat it. No amount of soaking rids clothes of its red stamp. If you are outside for more than just a few minutes you can rest assured that you too will be enveloped in red.
Red dust, red goo, red mud, red splatters.
Red, red, red.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Thursday, September 15, 2011
1 + 1 = 2?
"You have to CUT my house in half?" Disbelief dripped from every word as I said this to my calm, almost sedate husband and the house mover. Visions of tumbling walls and spewing water ran through my head as I tried to understand what they were saying to me. Apparently, they had talked this over before hand. Daniel nodded in agreement while the house mover explained the whole process.
False walls needed to be built to support the soon to be cut edges of my beautiful house. Wires and pipes needed to be disassembled and cut. Measurements would be made and lines drawn. No big deal, I was told. People do it all the time. As a matter of fact the mover himself assured me that he had been doing this kind of thing for about 50 years. He knew what he was doing. Who was I to worry? Right?
Wrong.
All I could think of were frayed edges, buckling floorboards and collapsing ceilings. To make it worse, this very experienced man and his crew were not doing the cutting. That special, all important job was going to be left to the one and only: Daniel. My insides were doing nothing less than screaming in revolt to what I was hearing.
Not that I didn't believe in Daniel, but this was my house. The same house that was going to have to be moved from its current location to our new property. I was going to LIVE in this house. As far as I was concerned we could take no chances. No, no, no! There must be another way.
There was. We could hire someone to do the cutting. Someone with years of experience. Someone who knew all the ins and outs, and about all that could go wrong and how to prevent it, but that would cost a few more thousand dollars. No. Daniel knew how to run a saw and how to build walls. With a few tips here and there he would be able to do it. I mean it wasn't like he had never been around a construction site. Right?
The house before the great move.
Right.
And so it was decided, planned, measured, built and finally...cut. With the help of a few brave souls who were willing to give it a try the house was successfully cut and prepped for moving. The movers came out and placed giant metal beams under it. These would hold it up and be attached somehow to their trucks which would then roll my house down the twelve mile stretch that led to its new destination.
Then the house mover called. There was a problem. Either we cut the top portion of the roof off for the move or we would have to pay a ridiculous amount of fees to the power companies to move the power lines. Would Daniel be able to do this too?
No. To my quiet relief this delicate job was hired out to a people who would carefully cut it and then replace it as good as new upon its arrival on the property. Now we were really ready to roll.
The big day finally came and the house began its journey to its new home. After a heartstopping scare-- involving a trailer tire going flat resulting in the whole truck and trailer (house and all!) sliding toward the road shoulder--the first half of the house was placed on the allotted spot on the property. The next day the other half arrived. It was placed a few inches shy of the other. Now the footers needed to be dug and blocks laid. Soon it would be back together again.
Things didn't quite go as smoothly as we would have like after that. Daniel was sick for almost two months, and a job that should have taken him a few days slowed to an almost imperceptible pace. Inspections were slow in coming for approval. In the end I see it as nothing more than a bump in the road. A boulder to cross as we hike along on this amazing adventure.
The house shortly after being moved.
The blocks are finally laid. Everything is ready. Everything but the mover that is. We spoke to them this morning. Seems we have more waiting to do.
Or do we?
My God said that mountains could be moved with faith the size of a mustard seed. Have you ever seen a mustard seed? They are tiny things. The way I see it if I have mustard seed faith and add it to the mustard seed of my children and husband then this mountain doesn't stand a chance.
False walls needed to be built to support the soon to be cut edges of my beautiful house. Wires and pipes needed to be disassembled and cut. Measurements would be made and lines drawn. No big deal, I was told. People do it all the time. As a matter of fact the mover himself assured me that he had been doing this kind of thing for about 50 years. He knew what he was doing. Who was I to worry? Right?
Wrong.
All I could think of were frayed edges, buckling floorboards and collapsing ceilings. To make it worse, this very experienced man and his crew were not doing the cutting. That special, all important job was going to be left to the one and only: Daniel. My insides were doing nothing less than screaming in revolt to what I was hearing.
Not that I didn't believe in Daniel, but this was my house. The same house that was going to have to be moved from its current location to our new property. I was going to LIVE in this house. As far as I was concerned we could take no chances. No, no, no! There must be another way.
There was. We could hire someone to do the cutting. Someone with years of experience. Someone who knew all the ins and outs, and about all that could go wrong and how to prevent it, but that would cost a few more thousand dollars. No. Daniel knew how to run a saw and how to build walls. With a few tips here and there he would be able to do it. I mean it wasn't like he had never been around a construction site. Right?
Right.
And so it was decided, planned, measured, built and finally...cut. With the help of a few brave souls who were willing to give it a try the house was successfully cut and prepped for moving. The movers came out and placed giant metal beams under it. These would hold it up and be attached somehow to their trucks which would then roll my house down the twelve mile stretch that led to its new destination.
Then the house mover called. There was a problem. Either we cut the top portion of the roof off for the move or we would have to pay a ridiculous amount of fees to the power companies to move the power lines. Would Daniel be able to do this too?
No. To my quiet relief this delicate job was hired out to a people who would carefully cut it and then replace it as good as new upon its arrival on the property. Now we were really ready to roll.
The big day finally came and the house began its journey to its new home. After a heartstopping scare-- involving a trailer tire going flat resulting in the whole truck and trailer (house and all!) sliding toward the road shoulder--the first half of the house was placed on the allotted spot on the property. The next day the other half arrived. It was placed a few inches shy of the other. Now the footers needed to be dug and blocks laid. Soon it would be back together again.
Things didn't quite go as smoothly as we would have like after that. Daniel was sick for almost two months, and a job that should have taken him a few days slowed to an almost imperceptible pace. Inspections were slow in coming for approval. In the end I see it as nothing more than a bump in the road. A boulder to cross as we hike along on this amazing adventure.
The blocks are finally laid. Everything is ready. Everything but the mover that is. We spoke to them this morning. Seems we have more waiting to do.
Or do we?
My God said that mountains could be moved with faith the size of a mustard seed. Have you ever seen a mustard seed? They are tiny things. The way I see it if I have mustard seed faith and add it to the mustard seed of my children and husband then this mountain doesn't stand a chance.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
This Old House
It’s funny the things you can find online. Recipes, coupons, jobs, books, old friends, and even free old houses. That is just how we found our new home, online at one of those now infamous bartering sites. Never in a million years would I ever have thought it could even be remotely possible, yet here we are.
We went to see the home after dark one evening just before spring. My daughter had found the house online, and we were curious. When we arrived, I was a little down because there was a farm gate at the opening of the driveway which, of course, was locked. Daniel-my ever adventurous, always pushing the limits kind of husband-assured me that he had spoken to the owner earlier that day, and that we would be fine to jump the gate. "No," I told him, "because as soon as we jump it the cops or someone will show up." But somehow that darling man convinced me it would be just fine.
And it was. Until I was purched precariously on the top half of the gate, wearing a skirt, trying to figure out how to swing my leg over it in a lady like fashon, and a man pulls up, gets out of his car and asks, "What's going on?"
Turns out that he was a deacon at the church that was advertising the house. Apperently one of their vigilant church members saw us sneaking around and called him. It could have been worse. I could have seen blue lights.
The deacon was nice enough. He even called another deacon to ask for the keys after we explained why we were there. According to the ad, the house was first come first serve, and we just wanted to be first. Simple. Daniel had called and talked to their spokesperson that morning. He was told that we needed to find a house mover and fast. So that is just what he did, but we wanted to see the house before we made any firm plans. There was a sense of urgency because the next day there was to be an open house, and Daniel didn't want to take any chances.
The house was perfect. It had hardwood floors, and a large country kitchen. The porch was almost ten feet in depth and spanned the entire front of the house. It was built in 1935, and had been owned by one family until they owners passed away and it was donated to the church which used it for after school programs and such. The land it was on was needed now because of new building plans. That is why they were giving it away. They just didn't have the heart to demolish it. I just say it was a God thing. Needless to say we loved it from the start.
They canceled the open house the next day. Plans were made for house movers to come and measure it. Calls were made, dates set, and contracts signed.
We finally had our house.
We went to see the home after dark one evening just before spring. My daughter had found the house online, and we were curious. When we arrived, I was a little down because there was a farm gate at the opening of the driveway which, of course, was locked. Daniel-my ever adventurous, always pushing the limits kind of husband-assured me that he had spoken to the owner earlier that day, and that we would be fine to jump the gate. "No," I told him, "because as soon as we jump it the cops or someone will show up." But somehow that darling man convinced me it would be just fine.
And it was. Until I was purched precariously on the top half of the gate, wearing a skirt, trying to figure out how to swing my leg over it in a lady like fashon, and a man pulls up, gets out of his car and asks, "What's going on?"
Turns out that he was a deacon at the church that was advertising the house. Apperently one of their vigilant church members saw us sneaking around and called him. It could have been worse. I could have seen blue lights.
The deacon was nice enough. He even called another deacon to ask for the keys after we explained why we were there. According to the ad, the house was first come first serve, and we just wanted to be first. Simple. Daniel had called and talked to their spokesperson that morning. He was told that we needed to find a house mover and fast. So that is just what he did, but we wanted to see the house before we made any firm plans. There was a sense of urgency because the next day there was to be an open house, and Daniel didn't want to take any chances.
The house was perfect. It had hardwood floors, and a large country kitchen. The porch was almost ten feet in depth and spanned the entire front of the house. It was built in 1935, and had been owned by one family until they owners passed away and it was donated to the church which used it for after school programs and such. The land it was on was needed now because of new building plans. That is why they were giving it away. They just didn't have the heart to demolish it. I just say it was a God thing. Needless to say we loved it from the start.
They canceled the open house the next day. Plans were made for house movers to come and measure it. Calls were made, dates set, and contracts signed.
We finally had our house.
The Thing
It started out as any wonderful morning should. The kids were up and doing their respective chores: feeding animals, refilling water, cleaning pens etc. Daniel and I were in our room reading and discussing the Bible.
All was calm.
Suddenly, the door swings open and D.J. gasps between breaths, "Daddy!! Nayshon needs you!!" Daniel asked him what was wrong, but all he said was, "I don't really know. I think she saw something!"
Alarms go off inside my head. A dead chicken? A hurt goat? Did she see a coyote? Is there an evil, venomous snake in her path??? I scurry to pull on my boots over bare feet (I am still in pajamas) as Daniel pulls on his pants and boots. I take a hurried look out the window searching for Nayshon. My eyes spot her near the shed, hands on her face. Her shoulders were drooping and she was pacing nervously. "She's crying!!!" I shout knowing that she doesn't tend to be a crier. "We need to hurry!" I jump from my spot at the window and follow Daniel who was just on his way out. We begin running up the little hill praying and searching for clues.
We were about halfway up the hill when I asked Nayshon what it was. She looks at us half smiling and says,
"There's a 'possum in the feed can."
A 'possum in the feed can? I ran up the hill in my pajamas to save her from a 'possum in a feed can.
Is she serious? My whirling thoughts hit the breaks and come to a screeching halt.
"I was getting a scoop out of the empty feed can and I heard something growl at me, so I freaked out and pulled my hand back!! Then I looked in it to see what it was. It's just sitting there. I think it was hissing at me...," she explains.
Daniel and I look at each other. You know that "look" parents sometimes give each other. Daniel laughs and I take a peek at the critter. I must admit he was kind of cute for a vile chicken killer, but sometimes danger doesn't look so bad does it?
I talked to Nayshon about the proper way to calmly deal with situations like this without scaring the jeepers out of everyone. The guys quickly "disposed" of the critter in question, and before we knew it, the day had moved on.
We had some yummy scrambled eggs for breakfast. Thank God we got to them before...The Thing.
All was calm.
Suddenly, the door swings open and D.J. gasps between breaths, "Daddy!! Nayshon needs you!!" Daniel asked him what was wrong, but all he said was, "I don't really know. I think she saw something!"
Alarms go off inside my head. A dead chicken? A hurt goat? Did she see a coyote? Is there an evil, venomous snake in her path??? I scurry to pull on my boots over bare feet (I am still in pajamas) as Daniel pulls on his pants and boots. I take a hurried look out the window searching for Nayshon. My eyes spot her near the shed, hands on her face. Her shoulders were drooping and she was pacing nervously. "She's crying!!!" I shout knowing that she doesn't tend to be a crier. "We need to hurry!" I jump from my spot at the window and follow Daniel who was just on his way out. We begin running up the little hill praying and searching for clues.
We were about halfway up the hill when I asked Nayshon what it was. She looks at us half smiling and says,
"There's a 'possum in the feed can."
A 'possum in the feed can? I ran up the hill in my pajamas to save her from a 'possum in a feed can.
Is she serious? My whirling thoughts hit the breaks and come to a screeching halt.
"I was getting a scoop out of the empty feed can and I heard something growl at me, so I freaked out and pulled my hand back!! Then I looked in it to see what it was. It's just sitting there. I think it was hissing at me...," she explains.
Daniel and I look at each other. You know that "look" parents sometimes give each other. Daniel laughs and I take a peek at the critter. I must admit he was kind of cute for a vile chicken killer, but sometimes danger doesn't look so bad does it?
I talked to Nayshon about the proper way to calmly deal with situations like this without scaring the jeepers out of everyone. The guys quickly "disposed" of the critter in question, and before we knew it, the day had moved on.
We had some yummy scrambled eggs for breakfast. Thank God we got to them before...The Thing.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
The Beginning
I was minding my own business. Truly I was. I mean, conversations that included us one day having an old country home with some land to grow our own food on and maybe have some chickens had passed through our lips on several occasions, but I didn't expect it to happen this soon. To be honest, at times, I didn't think it would ever happen. Yet here was this amazing opportunity! Twenty nine acres of beautiful, gently rolling land bordered by a creek that is too wide to simply jump across. Add to that the fact that about ten acres were already cleared and you have our dream come true!
Could this be real?
It was. Absolutely, and before we knew it we were getting ready to move onto it. We found an old country home and had it moved onto the property. Then we got an old camper and did the same. Meanwhile I was packing and cleaning up a storm. The house we were living in sold quickly(praise the Lord!) and everything seemed to be coming together.
Daniel had some guys come out and help him put up fences and cut a few trees here and there. We had a few chickens donated and my horse was finally in my own "front yard!" No more boarding fees. The chickens began to lay relatively quickly. Before we knew it we had goats, a ram, chickens, a horse, quail, rabbits, dogs and a cat. We were reading all the books we could find on animal husbandry and homesteading for selfsustainability. Things were moving so fast that I look back at the blur of busyness that was my life and wonder how we did it all.
The ram is gone now. We just attained three more horses. The house is slowly , but surely coming together. We have discovered how difficult it can be to fence in goats, and today...Well today I butchered my first chicken. It was a rather interesting experience, but not at all as bad as I supposed it would be. I chose a young rooster because I was afraid of botching it up and ruining a good hen on my first try. Next time though, one of the "girls" will be on the menu. I will have a better idea of what to expect.
Daniel has built a wonderful, spacious chicken coop for my little flock of about twenty two. Once again the goats are teaching us a lesson: How to keep goats out of your coop and chicken feed. The dogs are growing and keeping a watchful eye out for predators. Kiki just caught an opossum again the other day. (Those critters like to kill chickens and enjoy eating chicken eggs.) Snakes have been found, caught and killed. Coyotes have been sighted, but our livestock has been unharmed thus far.
And this is just the beginning.
We have only been here since May. The adventures have just begun. I hope to share them with you as I remember the ones from the past few months and as new ones occur. I can't wait!
Could this be real?
It was. Absolutely, and before we knew it we were getting ready to move onto it. We found an old country home and had it moved onto the property. Then we got an old camper and did the same. Meanwhile I was packing and cleaning up a storm. The house we were living in sold quickly(praise the Lord!) and everything seemed to be coming together.
Daniel had some guys come out and help him put up fences and cut a few trees here and there. We had a few chickens donated and my horse was finally in my own "front yard!" No more boarding fees. The chickens began to lay relatively quickly. Before we knew it we had goats, a ram, chickens, a horse, quail, rabbits, dogs and a cat. We were reading all the books we could find on animal husbandry and homesteading for selfsustainability. Things were moving so fast that I look back at the blur of busyness that was my life and wonder how we did it all.
The ram is gone now. We just attained three more horses. The house is slowly , but surely coming together. We have discovered how difficult it can be to fence in goats, and today...Well today I butchered my first chicken. It was a rather interesting experience, but not at all as bad as I supposed it would be. I chose a young rooster because I was afraid of botching it up and ruining a good hen on my first try. Next time though, one of the "girls" will be on the menu. I will have a better idea of what to expect.
Daniel has built a wonderful, spacious chicken coop for my little flock of about twenty two. Once again the goats are teaching us a lesson: How to keep goats out of your coop and chicken feed. The dogs are growing and keeping a watchful eye out for predators. Kiki just caught an opossum again the other day. (Those critters like to kill chickens and enjoy eating chicken eggs.) Snakes have been found, caught and killed. Coyotes have been sighted, but our livestock has been unharmed thus far.
And this is just the beginning.
We have only been here since May. The adventures have just begun. I hope to share them with you as I remember the ones from the past few months and as new ones occur. I can't wait!
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