An unproductive list.

Remember when I used to write posts about nothing? Me too.Eventually, I tried to be useful. Tried to offer something of worth to the giant homesteading world. This, my friends, is not one of those posts. Truth be told, sometimes I don't feel like being productive, or resourceful, or creative. Sometimes, I just want to be.And thus, I've created a list of life at this moment.1. I just drank a mug of hot chocolate. So for the moment, my belly is quite satisfied. Seriously, I don't know what it is about sweet milk, but it's my weakness. Whether in the form of hot chocolate, a London fog, or the cinnamon sleep tonic, I just can't get enough.2. Since Owen has begun eating solid foods, his poo has changed from the oh-so-easily-cleaned-only-drinking-milk baby poo to the quite-disgusting-and-human-like poo of a real food diet. I think this transition deserves a moment of silence for all the grotesque diaper changes that await my near future. Good thing I just ordered some new diaper covers. The hobbit's going to need 'em.3. Speaking of the hobbit, Owen also popped (not to be confused with pooped...please see #2 above) his first bottom tooth a few days ago. I didn't even know he was teething! His sleeping is still normal, as are his naps, appetite, and demeanor. Georgia was much the same way - I never knew when she was getting her teeth. Even the molars. All of a sudden one would just *pop* through. Hey. I'll take what I can get, man.4. I am in such a happy place at the moment. The garden is growing. The babies are thriving. The air is warm and welcoming. The apple tree is producing. The sun is shining. The mountains are beautiful and constantly catch my attention from the many open windows in our home. It's just a fantastic time of year in an awe-inspiring place. I love being home.5. And in complete contradiction to the last sentence of #4 above, I am also in a very melancholy place. Leaving the life I built in Alabama over the past year has been very odd. I often think of it, still too recent to be a long-lost memory, but still too far away to remember perfectly. An email from a friend...a sweet card from another... both had me in tears. Our time in Alabama was so challenging and so incredibly life changing - a real battle in the process of our sanctification. But to leave friends, our church, our familiar 'spots' and our favorite places behind just feels strange. As difficult as Alabama was, and as much as I hated those God-forsaken fire ants, I miss that sweet Southern air and that beautiful Southern hospitality. I miss hearing familiar voices of our dear friends and getting to spend time in fellowship with them. I will never forget our time in Alabama - I don't want to. I want to cling to the lessons and the memories that were acquired through the challenges. And I want to remember the incredible town, school, church, and fellowship we got to be a part of down there. If only for a season.I think that fully adjusting to our new life here will still take a bit of time.6. I owe you all a huge, gigantic, and enormous THANK YOU. So many of you have purchased our first cookbook, From Scratch, and truly helped to make it's release a success. It's been so encouraging to already being receiving emails about how the cookbook has been a helpful resource in the kitchen. That was always my desire. I didn't write this book to become rich, I wrote it to encourage and share with you. I hope that many of you continue to use it and love it as much as I do. Hug it. Kiss it. Speak sweet words to it. It'll love you back, I promise.7. I'm still trying to get my cow pregnant. She may be pregnant now. She may not be. She hasn't been standing for the bull to mount... and from my visual inspections (dare I say more?) it doesn't look like there's been too much 'activity'... if you know what I'm sayin......know what I'm saying?...no?...do you really want me to go into detail on this?...are you sure? It involves very large reproductive organs....Ya. I didn't think so. A post like that needs a very large disclaimer at the top of it.Please. Just do me a favor and pray that my cow would be pregnant. Dear Lord, all I want for Christmas is a little baby cow. Well, actually, it'll come in the spring, but you know what I mean.Cow. Calf. Milk. It's a simple cycle, really. Except for that whole conception thing.8. Do you like when I talk about my cow's conception rate and large reproductive organs? I thought so.9. Did you know that here at Beatha Fonn we're planning on raising 50 meat birds? It's true. 50 Dark Cornish chicks will be delivered the first week of August. And as usual, I have no clue what I'm doing. Thanks for asking.We'll be pasturing them on a hillside and utilizing inexpensive, plastic netting ("wildlife netting") and some simple stakes as fencing to contain them. The small, simple shelters will be large, wooden apple bins that are turned on their top (this will at least give them somewhere to shelter and hide from owls, hawks, etc.). My biggest concern is that they'll fly over the 6' netting. Perhaps a net will be in order to drape over the top of the pen?I'll be feeding them a locally-sourced whole-grain feed called Scratch 'N Peck. It's a soy-free, organic grower diet ration and is comprised of primarily local grains. It's expensive. Super expensive. But since this is our first batch of chickens, I didn't want to experiment with making our own - it's too big of a financial risk until I know for sure what I'm doing. It'll cost about $7.5 in feed for each bird. Plus the cost of the actual chick, which is $1.35. But that entire financial breakdown will come at another time. Point is, we've got to get a pen prepared this weekend and in working order for these chicks. Mama needs her chicken, man.10. I suppose that's all the uber-important information that I have to share with you at the moment. I know. I told you it wasn't going to be productive.I don't want to be productive at this moment. I don't want to do anything but sit here, talk with you about my chickens, and sip on this cup of ice water that I just filled.Simple pleasures, man.