Finally my hopes and dreams of having a mantis farm have been realized. No longer will I have to wait in line at the garden store with everybody else to get my own praying mantis larva. Thanks to Jasmine, I have an egg sac of my very own just waiting to hatch next May on one of my citrus trees! I haven't seen her in a while but I like to think she left behind her legacy in the form of 500 little mantis eggs.
Speaking of things that leave eggs sacs in their wake, I've definitely grown in terms of my relationship with 8-legged beasties. Thanks to all of them peacefully living in my garden, I've completely conquered my fear of spiders. Even if they're on me. (Sadly, the same cannot be said for Bess Bess. When she was here last, she moved a bag of potting soil for me, and came away with a fat black passenger clinging to the leg of her capris. My ears are still ringing.) The other night, I had that stupid stress dream where I'm in a room full of spider webs, all occupied, of course. In the dream, I have to get out, but of course there's no clear path, no matter how much I crawl and contort. So how do I know I'm officially not afraid of them anymore? In the dream, I looked at all those plump beasties, then shrugged, and said, "Eh, they're not that big." Then I just walked out. Now I'm not the type that believes you can consciously control dreams (if I could, you better believe 80s MacGyver would have saved me), so dream Andie gets all the credit for that one. I bet I never have that nightmare again.
With great excitement and a thick pair of surgical gloves, I harvested my first batch of Trinidad Scorpions and Ghost Peppers. I ever so gently washed and dried them, then arranged them in the dehydrator with the more mundane cayenne peppers. I quickly researched the drying process on the internet, and concluded that our kitchen was large enough that dehydrating the peppers inside wasn't going to be an issue. The article advised opening a window and turning on a fan, but it was cold out and I'm lazy like that. Besides, billowing clouds of distilled pepper evilness only happen in other people's kitchens, not mine. And I was right, for about five minutes. Then I couldn't get the windows open fast enough, and Gene resorted to lugging the entire dehydrator outside while holding his breath. But the important thing was it worked, and after a few hours passed we could use that part of the house again.
Watery eyes and hacking coughs aside, though, I'm getting pretty irked about the whole hottest pepper on the planet thing. I came across disturbing news online, news involving the Carolina Reaper. It's potentially hotter than the Trinidad Scorpion, pending test results. Which means I might not have grown the hottest pepper on the planet, and have fallen short of my goal yet again. But there's always next year!
In other news, all the critters seem to be adjusting well to the changing weather. Mack and Skeeter have their favorite rainy day hiding spots carved out, and come bounding out of the woods whenever they see me to beg for a Wheat Thin. They aren't quite big enough to scare the chickens yet, so most of the time they lose their treat to a questing beak or two. I have to herd them into the Ranch and give them a cracker pile to console their hurt feelings and let them snack in peace. Unfortunately I haven't seen Harvey in far too long, so I'm starting to fear the worst. He's getting up there in age, and we've been having coyote problems. I haven't given up hope though, there will always be a special place in my heart for that crazy bunny.
It's almost time to open the garden up to the chickens, and the bunnies should love that as well. I've harvested just about everything there is to pick, and it's starting to become overrun by spiders. I try to let them do their thing, but some of them spin their webs right across the entrance path and I have no choice. The other day, I was in a particularly live and let live mood, so I bent and twisted and scrambled around several webs, each with a plump inhabitant smack in the middle of it. When I got through the tunnel, I turned around to look behind me, and I just about fell over. It was one of those "I can't believe I just walked through that" moments, all gloriously highlighted by the sun. There were so many of them I called Gene on my cell phone and asked him to bring me a stick to clear a path back. Shudder.
I forgot how much I hate doing chores in the pouring rain. The animals are scared of me, since they're not used to seeing me in anything other than my signature Swamp People t-shirt. Apparently my bulky rain jacket and camo hat frightens them. Tonight I spent an hour wrangling chickens in the storm; they must have a bit of vampire blood in them because they refused to cross running water, which was cascading in rivulets all over the pasture. I wanted to put them up in the coop early so I wouldn't have to get sopping wet twice, and they were having none of it. Since chasing them while screeching, "Don't you want to be warm and dry????" didn't work, I resorted to pouncing on them when they looked the other way. Challenging work, but I won. Eventually. And about five minutes after I shut the coop door, it stopped raining.
We did have sun for the official first day of fall though. I celebrated the occasion by pushing the first pumpkin of the year off the deck, which exploded into stringy goodness down below. Woolimina was particularly happy - she enjoys squash almost as much as watermelon. It's almost time to open up the garden for the chickens, I just have to wait until my hot peppers ripen. The Trinidad Scorpions are turning a most alarming shade of red, and the Ghost Peppers are a searing shade of orange. I'm going to give them a few more days, then harvest everything. I'm a little worried about putting them in the dehydrator, because I fear the resulting pepper cloud might make the house uninhabitable. I figure I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.
Prompted by the changing season, I decided a little redecorating was in order. The chickens had been asking for privacy curtains in the coop for quite some time, so I finally gave in. I cut up white feed bags, and stapled them to the nesting boxes with the logo facing out, which makes for cheerful pops of color in the otherwise beige coop. I also rearranged the Quail Sanctuary, and gave them some sunflower heads as a special treat. They hate when I invade their space, but as soon as I shut the door they were all over them.
After all the veterinary-related drama, life has finally gotten back to normal here on the farm. Although I have to admit, our "normal" seems rather chaotic to anyone unused to sharing life with over a hundred critters of varying description. (So what if 75 of them are chickens? It's still an impressive number). Both Thing 2 and Ceri seem to have conquered their ailments, and are now medication-free with the exception of Ceri's allergy pills. Sadly, those are a lifelong investment. Apparently each pill takes over nine months to manufacture, so I don't foresee those prices dropping anytime soon. That's longer than it takes to pop out a baby!
At any rate, the most exciting news of the month has to be Bessie's arrival. Gene had his surgery last week, so she flew out to help me with the animals and lifting anything over five pounds. Although she's been here numerous times before, this is the first time she's actually had to help me with chores. Anticipating an overnight stay in the hospital, I figured the best way to make sure she could handle everything was to make her do all the chores for three days prior to the surgery. Her visit has really turned into more of a vacation for me, I have to say. She's actually doing quite well, although she has no inherent chicken wrangling skills. Apparently that's not an ability people are born with, I just happened to win the genetic lottery. I did convince her to hold a chicken, and once the high-pitched "get it off me" screeches had subsided, the experience was enjoyed by both Bessie and Mama Buffington.
With fall right around the corner, harvesting season is in full swing around here. I've gotten over fifty pounds of tomatoes so far, which currently take up precious ice cream space in the freezer. When Gene gets back from hunting, we are going to make salsas and sauces. I love prowling around the gardens, harvesting basket in one hand, camera in the other, checking on everything to see what's ripe. For the most part, all the fruits and veggies did amazingly well. With one noticeable exception. Back in February, I carefully planted (and labeled, I swear), a batch of exotic seeds imported from Africa. Several aloes, a cactus, and a couple varieties of trees. Not surprisingly, since even in the greenhouse the climate is nowhere near their homeland, not too many seeds sprouted. But I did lovingly tend to what I thought was a gorgeous, exotic Chaste Tree (it has lots of medicinal benefits - Google it!) For months I've watered it, fertilized it, and repotted it, catering to its every whim. Imagine my horror when a few more of them spontaneously sprouted in the garden. Apparently I've been tending to a weed for like seven months. No wonder it's over six feet tall. I blame the seed people for not putting a picture of the tree on the seed packet.
But onto happier subjects - after six long years, I've finally been rewarded with an actual guava on my guava tree! I was ecstatic when three of them blossomed for the first time ever, and now I've got an actual fruit! I have no idea if it's warm enough for them to ripen in this climate, particularly since winter is coming, but there's only one way to find out. This is definitely a summer of firsts - I also finally got some fruit on my Goji berry tree - one is ripening, and the other three are just sort of hanging there, looking somewhat sad. But the important thing is they're there. Finally. The Goji tree is also about six years old. Lucky for them I'm a very patient gardener. I'm hoping for avocados next year!
As relaxing as the last two week have been outside the house, they have been packed with drama inside the house. Within three days of each other, poor Ceri's earache came back, and then Thing 2 had to be rushed to the emergency vet with a blocked urinary tract. The poor kitty had to stay there for three days and needed around the clock care (yes, it's every bit as expensive as you're probably imagining). Right now our kitchen cabinet looks like I robbed a pharmacy - both Ceri and Thing 2 came home with three or four bottles of meds each, with every pill needing to be dispensed at a certain time. I actually had to make a chart, and feeding time is now as complicated as your average zoo. Thing 2 needed special, prescription canned food, which now all the cats are on because it's good for them. And for what it costs, it better have miraculous results. Chunk is pissed because he's on a diet, which started immediately after I noticed that Thing 2's vet referred to him as a "very large kitty". Since Chunk is probably twice his size, the dieting commenced. Now it takes me about an hour to separate the dogs from the cats and medicated food from non-medicated food, then dispense accordingly. I have to laugh, though, because the stampede at feeding time is pretty funny.
I'm the type of person who really, really has to be in the mood to enjoy shopping. Grocery shopping is a chore, and I prefer to buy my signature Swamp People t-shirts online rather than go to a store and admit to a salesperson that I'd rather wear a shirt graced with a huge green snapping alligator on it than retain the $20 in my pocket. And the only way you can get me into WalMart is to drag me kicking and screaming. Or as Gene would tell you, whining and complaining. But at least he made our latest WalMart trip totally worth it - he got me a Venus flytrap plant! And even more romantic than that, he killed and fed Grendel her first fly when we got home!
Now that Jasmine has some competition in the carnivoration department (I just made up a word!), I've been seeing her a lot more. She tends to hang out directly above Grendel, hanging from the sunlamp hidden amongst the Stevia blossoms. I have yet to see her actually catch and devour an insect, but she must be pretty fearsome since she's the only mantis left. I hope she didn't eat Willard and Bromier, because I haven't seen them in a month or so. I'm guessing that it got too hot in there even for tree frogs; they'll probably be back for the winter months.
I think Hawthorne got jealous over all the time I've been spending in the greenhouse, because he decided to disappear for about two hours today. Needless to say, I was frantic because there aren't that many places a 40-pound turkey can hide, or waddle to. The fact that there aren't too many predators that can carry off a feathered heifer like that didn't stop me from panicking and tromping around the woods for an hour. Since Gene was at work, I called Abigail, who came down to help me look for him. It only took one of her bellows for him to come ambling out of the blackberry brambles; I think he thought it was funny to hide from mama, but realized he was in trouble when I called in the big guns. On the plus side, I found all sorts of interesting things during my S&R mission in the woods - two hidey holes, one containing Harvey, the other Cinnabun, and a huge nest of turkey eggs. At least when Prudence decides to go broody, I'll know where to look.
Even though August just began, I already feel like I'm transitioning into Fall. Ground cherries, tomatillos, tomatoes, cucumbers, and all the greens have found their way into my harvest basket, and the winter squashes should be ready any day now. My chores list is a mile long, including watering, weeding, and general garden upkeep. I end up spending hours outside - not because I'm that busy, but because everything around me is so gorgeous it needs to be photographed. Yesterday I was wandering in the garden, and I saw a huge black and white dragonfly land on one of the dowels I used to prop up the peppers. 167 pictures later, an hour had passed! Thank god for digital, Gene would be broke if I had to pay for film.
I'm particularly drawn to photographing the guineas, because no matter what they're doing, they look vexed. Lucia could be eating a chocolate cupcake and she'd still glare at you like you rained on her parade. She seems to be fitting in with the other chickens nicely, although I haven't seen her hanging out with the other guineas yet. I think she still thinks she's a chicken. I'm going to let Graciella, the newest guinea chick, and her chicken mama out of the brooding box next week, both because I think she'd be happier outside and because I'm getting another shipment of chicks in from the hatchery. They ran a free shipping promo, and who am I to turn down free shipping?
Perhaps more exciting than new chicks, however, is the fact I now have at least four real, actual, Trinidad Scorpion peppers growing on my plant!!!! They already look wizened and evil, and Gene said I should already be in the habit of only handling them with gloves on. How cool is it that no matter where on the planet you go, you can't find a pepper hotter than what's in my garden? At least the peppers don't move into interesting new angles, so I only took 10 pictures of them.
In my defense, though, I feel like I have to practice for the online photography class I signed up for in anticipation of the long rainy days of fall. The class has a section on everything from nature (I'm assuming chickens count as nature), to pets. I've been practicing on the poor kitties, always trying to capture them from a new perspective. Chunk is used to me going paparazzi all over his naptime, but Thing 2 swipes at the camera. Apparently he doesn't like having the lens hover an inch from his face, just waiting to document the next cute thing he does. He's going to have to get used to it, because the class runs for six weeks and I'm not putting the camera down any time soon.
