Tag Archives: Itsnotta farm

The Beauty of Seasons of Change: Life Lessons

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Oh friends! It has been a whirlwind of a few weeks, and I am still not over it. Usually, I am a sucker for back to school week and do all the prep, cleaning, anticipating etc. etc. They say that September is the new January, and I am here for it… except I am not. Our kiddos are getting older, and only the youngest is left in her last year at high school. We bought 99 cent pencils and a couple of packs of post it notes. Oh – and a new pair of shoes. Not that she needed new shoes, but she got a new pair anyway. No more double pairs for indoor/outdoor shoes, no school lunch prep, no fancy backpack. I don’t think we even got up on the first day to see her off on the bus. We’re bad parents. We didn’t even do the back to the college dorm pics that all our peers are posting with their older teens. Our college kid is back, but doesn’t share much… so there’s that. I promise to send him with snacks. No real food or fancy twinkly lights, maybe clean bedding and a towel and soap. Ugh! What have I become, so far from the old days.

So unprepared for back to school this year. Oh well.

In fact, we pulled them out on the first week of school to go on a family holiday. Which was great! A tradition we started a few years ago to get away and re-connect as an extended family (which is growing considerably now). We hung out and stayed up way too late. Despite the very nice weekend, we came home to a devastating loss… three (yes, three!) of my beloved chickens were gone. We are assuming a coyote pack. No signs, no evidence, just three missing bodies. That means we only have three girls left. The dog was with us, which I think was a bad thing, because he is likely a slight deterrent to whatever predators are out there. Three! So sad. Still, this is the risk of free ranging, and I am thankful my sitter is a farm girl, and handled it beautifully. I’m sorry it happened on her watch. Sigh. I spent the rest of the week after returning home researching fencing for pygmy goats. It was therapeutic.

Then there is the house… it’s a mess. I suppose it always is after you go away. I have so many big plans. So little motivation. Not even that…. I have motivation, but I don’t know, time just gets away when you are scrolling Facebook Poultry Groups and goat breeders near me. Don’t tell the hubby… but maybe I am regretting the move to the country…. WAIT. No, I am not. I love it here. The neighbouring farmers are starting to harvest again, the dust is flowing, the days are getting cooler, farm fairs are starting to crop up, apples, pumpkin spice, sunflowers and sunsets on the lake. No, I love it here, it’s just a season I am going through.

A.I generated: I asked it to include PSL… in the headless sweater?! LOL. These are the days we are in, people. A Season of A.I. generated mysteries…. Jesus, take the Wheel!

Why do people say that? Enjoy the season you are in? I get that it’s a God thing too… He designed it for us: to ebb and flow as the seasons of the year do. I had a conversation with God about it the other night. I asked Him to give me something. Some hint about the direction for the next little while. He reminded me to draw close to Him. A time for everything. I’ve talked about it before. I’m just reminding myself to embrace it again. To embrace the changes. To anticipate something new and different. Maybe I need to dye my hair again. I’ve been thinking about getting older lately. Friends and family are retiring… or dying. Harsh as it seems, winter approaches quickly and you must go through that season… until spring and new life starts again. Poetic? Not really. Just reality.

However, I do not want this post to be a downer… I need it to be as much of an encouragement for you as it is for me. This season is lovely. Rosie, in fact. Comfort. Warmth. The storage of a good harvest to make it through the Winter cold. Preparation, perhaps. I need to get back to that one. Alright friends, let’s do this! Let’s put on our woolly sweaters, our Pumpkin spice in hand and smell the sunflowers (which don’t smell really, but you get the picture)! Let the dust of the harvest fly once again, my friends!

And if that self talk wasn’t good enough for you, here’s a few other links to motivate us both:

5 Ways to Pray for your Kids in the Back to School Season

Walking Through the Seasons of Life

Study Ecclesiastes 3

A Time for Everything

If I could Save Time in a Bottle

Navigating Relationships Through Chicken Keeping

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What a whirlwind of a week it has been! Welcome back. There’s been a lot going on at Itsnotta farm … fall is approaching and the weather is finally getting a little cooler! We had some rain as well… a much needed thing after a very dry season which included a complete fire ban in the surrounding area, as well as a few friends who lost water in shallow wells. We’ve been clearing brush, cutting down tree branches and my arbor is up and still standing! I’ve been researching baby goats, but that’s still not on the horizon… need some fence building done, apparently. The pond experts came in today and got my waterfall going again… but the rain made the pool green, so there’s that.

However, the most significant change has been with the beloved chickens. Tragedy has struck again and I am saddened to report that two more of my new babies have been taken by a predator without a trace. I am so upset. I’ve gone from 5 new babies to 2 left. I have four of my original flock left, so that leaves me with only six girls. I understand that allowing the hens to free range means I have to accept this fate, on occasion. Yet, it’s still sad.

Hanging out with the chickens is where I wanna be this week. As you all know, they’ve been the driving force behind our move, our new adventures and Itsnotta farm. And my observations have created my muse for this week. So, the two sets of hens are now a year apart. The new breed is absolutely beautiful, but a little shyer than my original girls. And pecking order is definitely a real thing.

Finally: “apart but together”

Let me paint the picture for you. Four, older, more established girls, spoiled rotten by their crazy chicken momma, get infiltrated by five teenagers. The less experienced teens are attacked, traumatized and are reduced to two. The remaining two need to rely on each other to slowly make friends with the older ladies. And slowly, oh so slowly, it’s happening. They are forced to be locked up together at night, but the older girls are “making room”. There is still a cue for treats in the morning, but the younger two are starting to quickly get close enough for fast leftovers. Instead of being fields apart, the flock is “apart” — but together. I really am hoping this trend continues and that one day I will have a cohesive flock. Chicken keepers call this “integration”. And it seems to take forever. A group is obviously safer, so that’s the goal!

So, my friends, what do we learn from this? Why do I bore you with all my chicken drama? Well, it had me thinking about how similar we are, as humans. We were created to be a flock. God designed us to be together. Together for safety. Together to learn. Together to rest. Together to work as a team. Yes, there will be leaders and followers, but once the integration dust settles, there should be an ebb and flow to the scratch, peck and eat bugs, then occasionally lay an egg, routine.

The hubby and I have been in the middle of relationship observation overload these past few weeks. We’ve watched our older kids go off independently and merge with others (and allthe teenage angst that goes with it!) We’ve gotten together with new friends, and worked on building fresh relationships, and spent time with old friends who we value and love because we already “get each other”. We’ve seen new life come and the learning curve it creates to “add to the flock” (Hurray for babies!). We’ve also watched as relationships crumble and long term marriages seem to falter. We’ve had the hard discussions with older folk who are seeing the end of their time on earth come far to fast. From the outside looking in, it’s just like watching my little flock, and it’s crazy.

Our Sunday services have recently reminded me that God designed us to be in relationships. He did not want us to be alone to be attacked by predators. He designed us to have safety in numbers. You must learn from one another. We all must do some watching, some waiting, some learning through observation and patience, and then we can fly in and clean up the leftover treats that God gives us on the daily because He loves us.

As usual, perhaps these posts are not eloquent, nor full of deep theology or revelation, but a simple reminder of the way God intends us to be. I’m reminded all the time through simple things like baby chickens, of God things, and I am simply sharing them with you. Thanks for following along on my journey. We’ll catch up over a cuppa coffee again next week! Be blessed.

The Truth Behind Country Living: Weeds and the Reality of Free Range Chickens

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We were doing so well. Spring had us thinking we were ahead of the game this year. Things looked cleaned up and projects were on task. Sigh. Fail. Again. You know those great Instagram posts of the pretty summer .porch with chippy paint and rusty pails with random chicken eggs in a rainbow of colours next to a few beautiful wildflowers that look so romantic? It’s a lie. Country people will tell you the chippy paint is because we have no time for painting and we forgot the pail so it got rusty in the rain and your wild free-ranging chickens lay random eggs everywhere now instead of neatly in the nest boxes and it’s a daily game of hide and seek to collect them… and the wildflowers are really weeds that grow like crazy and take over any available spot except for the places you sowed the wild flower seeds hoping the pollinators would be happy that you thought of them….

Romantic? It’s a lie I generated with A.I!! Pretty though, isn’t it?

There are always two sides of the story friends. I love my house. I love my chick birds. I love my life and the adventures it brings. Yet, today, I am feeling a little bit on the other side. The dream has been crushed and it’s overwhelming and hard and not fun anymore. Part of my trouble is my own head. I get inside it and romanticize. Now don’t get me wrong… we do the work. We try. The hubby does his best, and I have good intentions, but most days I get home from work too exhausted to care. Everybody is safe and fed and clean and that’s enough. Yup, we keep it real here at mittonmusings.

I watered the “garden”. It is now a patch of thick thistle weeds and grass with a few stagnant tomato and pepper plants. I have 4 strawberry plants flowering which likely the wild birds will get before we get any fruit. Peas, beans, and any form of salad ingredient have been snatched up by the chickens and stubby bits of cucumber vines are choked out by more weeds. It’s a disaster! And I am sad. We tried to pull the thistles. Now I think I am going to try chaos gardening. Who cares. Let’s see what grows among the weeds.

I suppose thistles can be pretty too. Perspective.
Photo by Orhan Akbaba on Pexels.com

New found friends have a beautiful garden. Perfect rows. Ne’re a weed to be seen. He has blueberries! Blueberries! I didn’t think they grew down here, only up north, where it was colder. Okay, so they are retired and spend all day out there. Okay, they did research and planned and dug and tilled and worked for the last who knows how many years to achieve this greatness. How the blueberries were dug in trenches, fertilized and babied for four years before a single bloom. Still. I am grumpy there is no country property fairy. Instagram lies.

Ah friend. Is my musing simply a rambling of complaints? Partially. Hey, it’s my blog, I am allowed to vent. Still, it’s self talk as well. A reminder that God never promised life would be easy. We were chatting the other day about the angel who stood guard at the gate of the Garden of Eden when Adam and Eve got kicked out. Do you think they “drove by” every now and then to see him? To wish for the paradise? Or did they keep far away, ashamed to ever cross the barrier? Warning their children like Peter rabbit’s mom at McGregor’s garden gate… that’s where disaster struck, kids. Stay far away from the edge.

So what’s my point? I suppose it is simply this. Life here in our fallen world is harsh. Things are not fair. Time steals. Instagram really does lie. A.I is going to make it harder and harder to decipher Truth. Our children’s children will continue to struggle. Yet God is bigger and stronger than anything we can complain about. Weeds choke out wisdom. The Bible says so. Things get squeezed out and our minds get infiltrated with doubts and struggles and sadness. We go through seasons, like the natural world does. Eventually, something grows. Perhaps the wild flower weeds are the only thing, but it’s still growth. My chickens have been well fed by their foraging. It’s all about perspective. I’m learning. And I guess that’s where I must focus for this week. Thanks for coming along on the journey, friends. Let’s meet again soon to encourage one another one more time.