Day 17, 18, 19, 20 and 21

Day 17: Hands

Dax playing with his monster trucks

Day 18: Animal

Lots of chicken pictures, sorry, they're still new to us :)
The new chicks all lined up and asleep last night

Day 19: Something pink
My awesome camera case

Day 20: Close up
Black Polish chick, either Coco or Puddin

Day 21: From a Distance
My kids --took this one while standing at the chicken coop

New babies!

Today we got new baby chicks! I have been SO excited about our trip to Colville all week long and Dax has been almost as excited. Last weekend I spent most of the day Sunday reading blogs and doing research on different breeds of chicken. Looking for sweet breeds, breeds that were dual purpose so we could butcher any "extras" this fall and what colors I wanted to add to our flock. Cold hardy was almost one of the requirements. Well...for the most part... I stuck by what I was looking for. :) There are still a few more breeds I'd like to add to our flock but I think they'll have to wait for next year or at least later this spring.

We ended up with 10 chicks. 7 that are dual purpose, 1 that is pretty much just for eggs and two ornamental chickens. We have 1 Leghorn (which my brother says must be named Foghorn), 2 Rhode Island Reds, 2 Black Polish and 5 Silver Laced Wyandottes.

Although there is a good chance we will be butchering 1 of the rhodies and 4 of the wyandottes... we're already coming up with names... which could mean a couple of our current buffs will be headed to the butcher in the fall. I'm finding that the ones we got "in mass" may be easier to part with-- we have 6 buffs and right now I can't tell them a part.

Here are some of the pictures so far....

 All 10 in one picture

 SO in love with his babies

 Black Polish

 Sleeping Rhode Island Red

 Sleeping Silver Laced Wyandotte

Foghorn Leghorn

Ha! Although this little girl will be all white and not red like her namesake

Happy Valentines Day

To Dustin:

I love you.

I don't say that just to say it. 

I say it because I mean it.

I say it because everyday I worry that it might be the last time.

I say it because years have proven to me how deep and how much I love you.

I have loved you since I first laid eyes on the picture of you and puppy Dakota.

I've loved you since we started talking on myspace about being single and hanging out.

I have loved you since our first dinner at Mi Casita which led to our first hug in the parking lot-- which we would both later admit should have been a kiss.

I've loved you since you took me snowmobiling in the dark,
 making snow angels in the middle of the field.

I've loved you since you took me in your arms and gave me the sweetest first kiss- completely out of the blue, showing me around your parents house.

I have loved you since we started saying I LLLL....ike you! 

I have loved you since February 20th, 2008 when I looked at you and admitted I was ready to be your girlfriend.

I've loved you since the first time you showed me pictures of Kyleigh on your phone.

I've LOVED you since we went camping in April in FREEZING cold weather in the back of the truck.

I've loved riding in the S-10 through mudpits and trail rides in the Yota. 

I love hot tubing with you....

 I love you clean, dirty, stinky and fresh from the shower.

I love you clean shaven and scruffy from a weekend off. 

I love that you have never given up on me.

I loved you when your reaction to finding out I was pregnant was- "we wanted kids, just not quite  yet. It will be okay-when do you want to get married?"

I loved you when you sat with me while we told my parents we were having a baby. 

I love that you tease me, poke at me, joke with me (okay about me)

I love the little things you do- bringing home the sunglasses I was eyeing, taking my truck to get the oil changed, putting my snow tires on, keeping Dax on Mondays, building a chicken run, and so much more.

I love your eyes, your lips, your strong arms, the crease between your eyes, your smile, the looks you give me and your smell.

I love your heart. You have the biggest heart and when you love, you love with all of it.

I thought I could never love you more than the first moment I saw you with Dax in your arms.

I was wrong though because every day I truly love you more.

We've loved each other through some amazing, wonderful, exhilarating, happy, happy times.

We've loved each other through rock bottom, mud slinging, horrible moments that tore us a part and brought us back together.

Through all the tears, the smiles, the laughter, the fear, the joy and so much more, I have loved you.

I love you, handsome. With my entire heart.

Thank you for loving me too.

So God Made a Farmer

The best Super Bowl commercial ever. I usually watch them, giggle, move on and never remember the commercials again but something about the Dodge Ram commercial yesterday mesmerized me. It could have been Paul Harvey's voice, the pictures included in the slide show combined with the truthful words of the poem. Something stuck. It could have been that I had just been to the memorial service the day before for a farmer in our community and it could be that because of that my Grandpa K was weighing heavily on my heart.

As I reread the poem, it made me think about my Dad. My Dad is not a full time farmer, he's a "hobby" farmer but let's be honest-- there is no such thing as a  fun hobby farm- they are all work- There is nothing fun about putting up fields of hay in the hot summer sun after working 40+ hours a week in a rock pit on a bulldozer. There's nothing fun about having to watch for newborn fawns in the tall grass so you don't run them over. There is nothing fun about chasing cows from the county road back into the corral. There is nothing fun about worrying if your beef is going to sell this year. There is nothing fun about telling your friends price for your beef and hearing "that's too high" even when it's the bottom of the line, break even price. But someone has to do it. Without the farmer, we wouldn't have food on our tables. No farmer, no food.

I also think about living on our farm. About raising a family and livestock on the same acres me grandparents did for some 30 odd years. I think about the gift that was given to us of being able to share this experience with Dax. Not raising a city boy but one who will learn to feed chickens, raise a garden, run in the fields and that not everything is to be handed to you. I may not be the down and dirty dedicated farmer that this poem talks about or that my Grandpa and Dad are but I hope, in some ways, I'm similar to them.

So God Made a Farmer

And on the eighth day, God looked down on his planned paradise and said, "I need a caretaker." 

So God made a farmer.

God said, "I need somebody willing to get up before dawn, milk cows, work all day in the field, milk cows again, eat supper, then go to town and stay past midnight at a meeting of the school board." 

So God made a farmer.

"I need somebody with arms strong enough to wrestle a calf and yet gentle enough to cradle his own grandchild. Somebody to call hogs, tame cantankerous machinery, come home hungry, have to wait for lunch until his wife's done feeding visiting ladies, then tell the ladies to be sure to come back real soon and mean it." 

So God made a farmer.

God said, "I need somebody willing to sit up all night with a newborn colt and watch it die, then dry his eyes and say,'Maybe next year,' I need somebody who can shape an ax handle from an ash tree, shoe a horse, who can fix a harness with hay wire, feed sacks and shoe scraps.  Who, during planting time and harvest season will finish his 40-hour week by Tuesday noon and then, paining from tractor back, put in another 72 hours." 

So God made the farmer.

God had to have somebody willing to ride the ruts at double speed to get the hay in ahead of the rain clouds and yet stop in mid-field and race to help when he sees the first smoke from a neighbor's place. 

So God made a farmer.

God said, "I need somebody strong enough to clear trees and heave bales, yet gentle enough to help a newborn calf begin to suckle and tend the pink-comb pullets, who will stop his mower in an instant to avoid the nest of meadowlarks."

It had to be somebody who'd plow deep and straight and not cut corners. Somebody to seed, weed, feed, breed, brake, disk, plow, plant, tie the fleece, strain the milk, replenish the self-feeder and finish a hard week's work with an eight mile drive to church.  Somebody who'd bale a family together with the soft, strong bonds of sharing, who would laugh, and then sigh and then reply with smiling eyes when his family says that they are proud of what Dad does. 

So God made a farmer...

Author Unknown