Matilda's First Easter

ready for my first Easter Sunday

with Mom after church

wearing my Easter dress and new shoes

waving from my horse

loving my new duck galoshes and overalls

ready to read

Springing Forward & The Thrusty Brothers

The redbuds are sprouting from bare limbs, peach trees are blooming into delicate pink-white flowers and the roosters are fornicating furiously.  Spring has arrived.  The apple trees in the front have been pruned, much less severely than last year.  Two apple trees I killed with overzealous pruning last year have been cut down, sawed into pieces and stacked into an evergrowing pile for a bonfire.  Many of our peach trees have been suffering from cytospora canker which causes an amber sap to ooze forth from the bark and the peaches themselves.  It also leaves the bark looking fire damaged and severely reduces the quantity and quality of the peaches.  After trying to fight it organically for two years with neem oil and copper; I have begun to cut down some of the worst trees to make room for replacements.  I love peaches but they are fickle mistresses, prone to a multitude of diseases and do far better in a drier, less humid climate.  The dry woody canes that produced blackberries and raspberries last year have been pulled out to make room for the new green shoots that will bear fruit this year.  Our first grapevine is now 2 years old and has spead out like a giant squid to cover the entire trellis it shares with the berries, I trimmed it back to a denser more compact shape which will hopefully spur new growth and more grapes this year.  Two of our new trees have already arrived via UPS and been planted in the orchard.  A 3-in-one pear tree which has Chojuro, Shinseiki and Hosui pears and doesn't need another tree for pollination and a cold hardy Mericrest nectarine tree.  It will be 5 to 10 years before the trees are in full production but we joke that they are our retirement plan.  I sowed grass seed in the fenced chicken run which had been eaten down to bare earth over the last year and have been letting the birds run free range again to allow the grass a chance to sprout and grow before I let them back in.  So far, the roosters and dogs have been doing a great job keeping the predators at bay, no losses at all to report.

We have ordered a new shipment of poultry from Murray McMurray, 25 stout brown egg laying chicks to create a better hen to rooster ratio in the coop.  All 3 of the chicks I hatched from eggs last year have grown into magnificent, insatiably lecherous roosters.  We have taken to calling this group of horny teenagers, the Thrusty Brothers.  As a consequence some of the more attractive hens have been mounted and trodden on so many times they have bald spots on their backs and are in desperate need of saddles or a few extra gals around the coop for the men to divide their attentions amongst.  Our pin headed Sumatran rooster has assumed the role of second in command below King Chet and vigorously defends his ladies' honor from the advances of the Thrusty Brothers.

Wang, the Sumatran Rooster

We enjoy watching him chase the brothers all over the yard; when he is not doing his goofy side step shuffle and sidling up to the hens himself.  Right now we are at 22 hens to 5 roosters; ideally we are shooting for at least 8 hens per rooster.  There is so much testosterone out in the coop, I wouldn't be surprised if I walked in on the roosters doing bench presses and blasting Metallica or rebuilding a Camaro.

Two of the Thrusty Bros.

 Clyde used to only have beef with King Chet, but as the Brothers Thrusty have gotten bigger and more hormonal they have taken to going after him en masse.  I really need to get some video of the terror stricken look in Clyde's eyes as he flees from the 3 formerly docile roosters as half-run, half fly low with their combs fluttering in the wind like battleflags and their necks poised to peck him in his "no-zone".   I'm pretty sure I caught Otto grinning as Clyde streaked past with the 3 roosters in hot pursuit.  Anyways, the new additions this year will all be lady birds to balance out the coop.

Dark Brahmas - Large gentle chickens with striking plumage color in black and silvery white for males and beautiful silver penciled steel gray for females. Developed from Asiatic fowl brought to New England by China clipper ships in the last century.

Partridge Rocks - Quite rare, these are fairly good sized birds though not quite as large as their cousins, the Barred and White Rocks.  The females have brown plumage and distinct pencilings of black following the outline of each feather.  Hens lay brown eggs, and are considered one of the best setters and broody hens.

Dark Cornish - Originating from Cornwall, England. They are unique because of their thick, compact bodies, unusually wide backs, and broad, deep breasts. The hens are nice layers of firm-shelled brown eggs and wonderfully hardy. This variety will come as close as any to rustling for themselves under rough conditions and also make good setters and mothers. Another very distinctive character is the close fitting, rather hard textured feathers with unusual luster and brilliance. The close feathering and compact build will fool you on weight; they are always much heavier than they look.

 Buff Orphingtons - The color of pure gold they are symbolic of great value and high quality. Introduced from England in the late 1800's, they became one of the most popular farm fowls in this country. These are large, stately birds of quiet disposition. Their heavy, full plumage make them excellent winter layers, shelling out brown eggs right through cold weather. They also make excellent setters and mothers.

Blue Andulusians - These beautiful blue fowl originated in Andalusia, a province of Spain, but have long been known in England and the United States. They are magnificent to look at with their graceful, stately carriage and delicately blue-laced plumage.  The ideal feather color is a beautiful slatey blue with a narrow lacing of darker blue. Andalusian hens are fine layers of white or slightly tinted eggs with very little tendency towards broodiness.

We are dreaming of sitting under a stout wooden arbor covered in a leafy green canopy of grapes and berries enjoying a cool beverage.  I have been reading a book my grandma sent me on primitive architecture (Architecture without Architects) and imagining using some of the larger tree limbs as posts and crossbeams for the arbor.  I linger over pictures of  spartan Spanish castles, Japanese Shinto gates and cavernous thatched huts build from bundles of reeds in Iraq.  I allow the image of our landscape littered with a assortment of these structures to creep in and take hold of my brain.  If I were to come into a vast fortune somehow, I would transform our 23 acres into a redneck version of the Quinta da Regaleira that we have visited twice in Sintra, Portugal.  Conceived by Antonio Agosto Carvalho Monteiro aka Monteiro dos Milhões (Monteiro the Millionaire) and designed by an Italian architect named Luigi Manini (who bears an uncanny resemblance to my best friend, Chris Taylor)

Luigi Manini

Wikipedia describes the palatial estate:

"Monteiro wished to build a bewildering place where he could gather symbols that would reflect his interests and ideologies. With the assistance of the Italian architect Luigi Manini, he designed the 10 acre estate with its enigmatic buildings, believed to hide symbols related to alchemy, Masonry, the Knights Templar, and the Rosicrucians.  It consists of a romantic palace and chapel, and a luxurious park featuring lakes, grottoes, caves, wells, benches, fountains, and a vast array of exquisite constructions.  The architecture of the estate evokes Roman, Gothic, Renaissance and Manueline architectural styles.

Besides being the most beautiful & magical locations I have ever seen with my own eyes, we visited the Quinta the day that Matilda was conceived so it will always hold a special place in my heart.  I know I can't build my own, especially without Monteiro's millions, but the balance it strikes between natural beauty and a landscape created with human hands is perfect.  It inspires me to work for our land as a steward while building structures that complement and add to the beauty of our acres on the ridge.  I think every man desires to leave something behind when he departs this earth, something that will live on to be enjoyed and appreciated by future generations.  After I started this rambling post I came across another inspiration, Ferdinand Cheval and his Palais Ideal; a palace he built by himself out of stones he found.  My contribtion to future generations may not prove to be so elegant or well built, but there'll be a big ol pile of rocks and sticks somewhere up here by golly...

East Facade of Le Palais Ideal

Overheard in Caldwell County: April's Edition

Champagne Wishes & Caviar Dreams

April loads a can of organic baby formula onto the checkout stand at drugstore.

Teenage Register Kid with 3 pack-a-day voice:  Dang lady, yer baby’s got expensive tastes.

April:  Well, this is just to supplement nursing so it will last a while.

Register Kid:  Still… you should try an’ make yer baby like something cheaper.

April:  I’ll take that into consideration.

Just like Jane Goodall & the Chimps

April: Do you have any hobbies or interests?

Teen girl:  I like to do stuff for the environment.  Like, I drink a lot of Cokes in the white cans 'cuz it helps save the polar bears.

April:  Oh.

Do They Make a Supplement For That?

April (upon entering health food store):  Hi, I’m looking for the homeopathic teething medicine for babies.

Middle aged clerk (Simpsons Comic Book Guy doppelganger):  There (points at shelf)… I fixed it so I can’t have kids unfortunately.

April (trying to not make eye contact):  Uhh…yeah?

Middle aged clerk:  Yeah, me and my friends used to do things that made Jackass look like a bunch of grandmas.  My friend and I jumped our dirt bikes at each other one time, and they locked up together.  My leg got caught, and even though I was wearing a cup, it shattered and my testicles got jammed up into my body.

April (studying the fish oil intently):  Ouch.

Middle aged clerk:  Yeah they had to take a metal hook and pull them out of my abdomen (pantomimes said operation at groin)… and I hurt my ankle too.  I had to walk a mile and a half out of there ‘cause they couldn’t get an ambulance to me.  You know anything about the Jersey Turnpike?  We were riding on the marshland beside it.  Yeah, I remember every step of that walk…

April (quickly hands money to clerk):  Thanks, have a good day.

AAAHHH! The many faces of Matilda...

Fat Dogs and Fit Humans

Clyde had a rough week.   He managed to break one of his fangs on chain link fence while trying to get at his nemesis, Chet the rooster.  We took him to the vet on Saturday wondering what could be done and how much it would cost us.  Clyde made fast friends with the Australian vet tech who seemed to be pretty fond of Blue Heelers.  Everything was going really well until I announced that Clyde was almost 70 pounds and I didn't think Australian Cattle Dogs were supposed to get much bigger than 45 lbs.  Turns out Clyde is clinically obese and his days of free feeding while we are at work are over, he'll be on one cup rations morning and night for the foreseeable future.  Adding to wide Clyde's misfortune, the veterinarian noticed the limp in his back leg that seems to come and go with no rhyme or reason.  Could be his knee or foot, we had his hips X-rayed when we first noticed the limp almost 2 years ago and nothing looked wrong with them.  So Clyde is now on a diet, taking glucosamine chondrotin pills and will be getting a silver tooth cap as soon as the vet can find one for him.  We were hoping for a gold or platinum tooth with some bling in it but he'd probably just wreck it chewing on the chicken fence.

April and I have grown tired of growing fat like Clyde (and the rest of Caldwell County) and decided to do something about it.  Our answer? P90X!  A couple of my dudes at work had started the program and after hearing what they had to say about it and watching them eat nothing but tuna, boiled chicken breasts and muscle milk for lunch every day this year; I decided to get on board the fitness train before it left the station.  We had originally planned on getting up super early to do the workouts at 5am before Munty wakes up, but sleep is a precious resource so we have given up our sacred evening TV and internet time in order to exercise for 60-90 minutes after she goes down to sleep at 7:30 instead.  We are almost 2 weeks in and feeling better and starting to see some changes already.  Clyde goes outside and sits on the porch with Otto when we work out, neither of them wants a six pack apparently.  I was trying to do a slow carb diet from The Four Hour Body by Tim Ferris along with the workouts but I soon discovered there is a limit to how many beans and whey protein powder shakes I can cram down my maw.  After 3 days of beans for breakfast, lunch and dinner, I opted to diversify a bit on the carbs.  My co-workers will be thankful I'm sure.

April and I got a new storm door for Christmas from her folks.  When we bought our actual front door 2 years ago, I wanted something that could withstand an attack by zombie bikers or mutant rednecks; so I opted for a steel door.  The guy at Lowe's told me we should get fiberglass instead since it would not get dented or scratched, but I looked over at April and was all like, "Yeah, but will fiberglass stop an AXE?"  She rolled her eyes and gave me the look that says you are a moron but I don't want you asking the Lowe's guy what door would better withstand an assault by zombie bikers so I am gonna let you win this one.  Anyways, the Lowe's guy was right; Clyde has been scratching the ever loving crap out of my steel front door.  Sometimes because he wants to be let back in when it's cold and sometimes because Blue Heelers are just jerks who do stuff like that to get back at you for putting them on a diet.  I don't think his claws are sharp enough to scratch glass, but I'm sure he will give it his best shot.  Back to the new storm door, our front door is narrow, only 32 inches wide; so we had to special order the storm door from Lowe's and wait three weeks for it to come in.  During our bible study on Sunday, we got the call that our new door had arrived.  I drove my truck to work on Monday so I could pick up the door after work.  I keep a few 50 lb hardened blocks of Quik-crete over my back axle in the winter for better traction in the snow & ice.  I was going to load the door so it hung over the tailgate but I thought if I hit any bumps that it might crack the glass.  I decided to move the cement blocks to the corners of the truck bed and lay the storm door flat, it seemed like the smart thing to do.  On the way home, the air was thick with fog and drizzly.  I took a turn with a little too much speed and hit a pothole which catapulted one of the cement blocks high into the air coming down with amazing accuracy smack in the middle of the all glass storm door.  I quickly turned around as it sounded like a meteorite had landed in the back of my truck and saw a block of concrete resting on the top of the storm door box.  I decided to just get home and wait to find out if the worst had happened.  It had.  I thought it would be a tough sell to try and return the door to Lowe's, "Well there must have been some sort of mishap in the warehouse, maybe a wrecking ball?"  The box was crushed in the center and had concrete dust embedded in it, I wondered if my credit card might have some type of insurance for acts of old testament God.  April googled the manufacturer of the storm door and it stated clearly that they do not offer any replacement glass for their doors, it seemed like we were looking at ordering a whole new door.  I decided to call them anyways and throw myself at their mercy.  Turns out the model we had, the 6000 series, was the only one you could get replacement glass for.  Thank heaven for small favors.  The new glass is on the way and April is planning on going with me to pick it up, just in case we run into any mutant rednecks...or potholes.

 Matildabeast & her clinically obese amigo

Overheard in Lenoir - Holiday Edition

One lucky redneck's gonna smell sexy this Christmas
Old lady barges in front of us & hands an Axe Body Spray gift set to the Walmart greeter:
"I gotta go get a cart, but this here's the last one of these in Caldwell County and I cain't have nobody taking it!"

Damn your alluring aroma Justin Bieber...
2 middle aged women peruse the perfume counter at Belk
Lady #1: (holds up tester) "Smell it? That's Bieber."

Lady #2: "Mmnn...smells good!"

Lady #1: "This uns Taylor Swift"

Lady #2: "Hold on, I still got Bieber up my nose."


As sassy as they wanna be
Grandmother & Granddaughter looking for clothes in Magic Mart
Granddaughter: "Mawmaw, you gots to git you somma these fuzzy pants!  They're only $5.99!"
Grandma: "I don't think anybody's behind should be advertising that it's "SASSY"...especially mine."

Columbus' direct route to India finally starts paying dividends
Lady checking out the spice selection at Aldi
"Koo-mun, Ginger, Curry...I cain't believe they got all these exotic spices for only .99 cents!"

Worley's Cave

The incredible, infrequently updated adventures of MatildaBeast

Parenting, much like pimping, ain't easy. Caring for our daughter, two dogs, 30 chickens & 20 acres is one big time suck; especially coupled with full-time employment & managing 16 fantasy football teams. The days melt into weeks into months until now Thanksgiving has past and we are 30 days from our daughter's first Christmas. I had saved my last week of vacation and applied it over the last 4 Fridays so I got a month of three day weekends. We tried to do something fun on Fridays before working on the farm Saturday and resting Sunday. We took Matilda to the Rennaissance Fair, drove west through Brevard & Highlands & did a 7 mile hike in South Mountains State Park with the dogs. We felled and split and stacked 3 huge oak trees into a 10 year supply of firewood. We pulled up the garden, composted most of what was left and hung the remaining peppers in the garage to dry. We mowed and mowed and raked the torrential downpour of leaves into some semblance of mulch for the orchard. Gutters were cleaned and cleared until the leaves stopped falling. Most of all, we enjoyed our time with Matilda...


the MatildaBeast on my childhood blanket

at the Renaissance Faire

the crew on a glorious autumn afternoon

the beginnings of a second woodpile

hiking through South Mountain State Park

first leaf

Grilled Pizzas From the Farm

Homemade Dough

Margherita Pizza: homemade sauce from our organic Roma tomatoes, home-grown organic basil, mozzarella cheese

Home-grown organic "Sunshine" tomatoes, goat cheese, and our organic Roma tomato sauce

Sun-dried tomatoes, bacon, mozzarella, and our organic Roma tomato sauce

Blue cheese, mozzarella cheese, fried garlic, two of our organic/free-range chicken eggs, fresh black pepper, and our organic Roma tomato sauce

Seven Weeks In

I am now entering my seventh week in the captivity of two giants. My attempts to communicate with them have been fruitless so far, despite trying varying the volume and frequency of my cries they appear to understand nothing. My every request is met with one of four standard responses: grabbing me and holding me at great altitude, removing my underpants and replacing them with a new pair, patting my back mercilessly with their giant paws or most often offering the same white liquid as a meal over and over again. It is clear that they have an excess of this gruel since the female giant usually pumps out extra after feeding me and then saves it for later in their cold storage closet. They clearly do not enjoy consuming this white fluid themselves as I never see either giant partaking of it, instead they feast on meats and cheeses and chocolate chip cookies. Although I have requested some of these giant foods many times, the ignorant beasts refuse to offer me any. My frustration grows until by evening time my only recourse is to wail relentlessly and shatter the peace & quiet they attempt to maintain in their lair. I am also now conducting experiments into the interruption of their sleep cycles by arising at various times throughout the night shrieking and force them (especially the smaller giant) to feed me or replace my undergarments in a zombie like stupor. I am hopeful that by depriving them of regular rest they may get sloppy and allow me a better chance of escape. The giants also keep two large hairy beasts in captivity who spend most of their time laying about and eating some gross variety of pelletized food and the occasional table scrap. These shaggy brutes seem to have had their spirits broken as they happily follow the giants around and do not attempt to escape even when they are released outside without supervision. They appear utterly stupid, especially the grey one with the vacant look in his eyes who runs in circles around the yard barking and howling at nothing in particular. The black beast appears older and slightly wiser, very economical with his movements and less prone to hysteria but my attempts to glean information on the giants security procedures have been unsuccessful. I am unsure if he is loyal to the giants or just cannot understand me but he seems content to remain in captivity rather than forming an alliance wedding his mobility with my superior intellect. I find it most unfortunate that I will not be riding off into the sweet sunset of freedom on his arthritic back.

The giants are easily amused and spend a great many hours staring at a screen with ever-changing colors and forms. The male giant especially enjoys watching other giants in garishly colored uniforms and padding running and crashing into one another and usually spends the better part of Sunday afternoon tabulating how many points the crashes are worth on his computer. The woman giant tries to put me in a mechanical swing so she can play some type of game where she attempts to replicate the postures and motions of other female giants on the screen all the while grunting and sweating profusely. I think I have heard her call it exercise but I have no idea what the giants intend to accomplish with their strange behaviors, although mostly tedious sometimes observing them can be fairly entertaining. One thing I especially enjoy is when they wrap me in the fabric straightjacket and allow me outside into the fresh air and sunlight, I find solace with the other captives whom the giants call "chickens" who are kept to provide the giants with white rocks that they crack open and prepare meals with. I, too, create delightful things from my bottom yet the giants just throw them away with my disposable underpants. Perhaps if I can learn to produce these white rocks, I can get moved outside with the chickens and have a better chance of escape...


our little jailbird in pink stripes