No Walls Between Us

Well here I go. 

Figured I have a blog spot so why not blog.  So,  I sit here thinking, “what amazing, extraordinary things would people like to read about us?”…….nothing!  I mean, I have no wisdom to impart that will be life changing, and I’m pretty sure people aren’t really interested in too much of the day to day things I do or Kenny does on the farm……….or do they?

Im not going to bore you by telling you about where we came from or why we are here in NC.  Not even going to tell you why we make soap and I obsess with making cheeses.  I think those stories are better left with me (Lisa) rambling on incessantly until you just walk away.

I think what I’ll do is tell you funny stories.  I mean we literally have the most hilarious shit happen on almost a daily basis.  Always so good and guarantee to make you laugh.

Case in point:  

A couple of weeks ago I was standing at the kitchen sink making cheese (surprise there right)….anyway, I keep hearing a “chirp, chirp, chirp”.  Knowing that a starling nests up in our eves right above my head. (I refuse to let Kenny fix the hole, because then they can’t nest there ).  Anyway, I just figured  what I was  hearing was one of the babies in the nest.  As the chirping continues and Kenny comes in from outside I mention it.  This begins the BEST part.  We soon realize that the sound isn’t coming from over our heads, its actually somewhere else in the kitchen.  Kenny is opening cabinets and drawers to see if there is a way to get to this wayward chick.  It was actually mind boggling.  I know you’ve been there before, trying to zero in on a sound, you think you have it then nope, not there, not the sound is coming from over there…nope… and so on.  

We finally lean over the kitchen counter and feel like it’s coming from the wall and a baby must have slipped in there with no way for us to get it out.    After sadly resigning ourselves to the fate of this little bird in the wall, we just moved on and decided we can’t tear out the wall, we decide we will have to find a way to cope with the sad situation, hope it doesn’t suffer too long and maybe we’ll just mount a little road side memorial on the counter for the little guy and that’s that.  (Its farm life everyone, this stuff happens).

Next morning is a Saturday.  Yay, going to make a “sit down” breakfast for Kenny and myself since we rarely have a chance to do it.  I prepare some delicious local sausage, remove the pan, put the egg pan out and put a pad of buttern in the pan.  Once it’s nice and melted I pick up a duck egg I’d collected the day before and crack it on the side of the pan………..YUP……….you guessed it, that chirping was coming from that egg!  I was immediately horrified.  I mean, it was a baby, not just a little embrio.  There were feathers and a foot!  Dear GOD what have I done?!!!

So, let me first qualify what I next describe by saying I am not a bird person.  You would not know that because I have more than 100 Muscovy duck roaming the property, but I feaked out……..I looked at Kenny who is far more empathetic to the plight of little animals and he looked completely blank faced.  He just witnessed his wife slam a baby chick on the side of a hot frying pan.  

There was nothing left to do.  I mean do I peal it away and help it hatch……….for Gods sake no!!!  So I did the only thing my mind could get around and I walked that egg back out to the nest where mama was sitting on baby chicks instead of eggs at this point.  I lifted her tail and shoved it under her and walked away.

In complete denial, I just went in the house, told Kenny “we can’t talk about this ever”, and went on with the morning.  

The next morning I begged Kenny to look at the nest for me since I really couldn’t bare to see the carnage, if any, that was left of that poor little concussed chick. 

Well, happy ending for the baby chick.  Mama hatched it and now we are  on the look out for any odd little ducklings running around because surely getting pounded on the edge of a pan makes for a rough start. 

Facebook
Twitter
LinkedIn
Pinterest
Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *