“Sweeping is like painting the floor in cleanness.”
*****
Make that “quotes” – at lunch he said:
“Milk doesn’t taste as good in Rushford, because it’s not from America’s Dairyland!”
(Sorry, Kirsten, you’re in the wrong state!) 
Strawberries!
It’s finally here – the first day of “strawberry season”! Of course, we’ve been harvesting our own berries for over a week now (not to mention the tiny wild ones growing by the mailbox – definitely the kids’ favorite!) but this morning was the first official day that Mommsen’s produce patch was selling strawberries from their roadside stand. We got there as soon as they opened and picked up two buckets (they’re not open for pick-your-own yet, and we’re too impatient!). Hannah and Elaina were my big helpers, with Hannah hulling the berries (with my handy-dandy Pampered Chef strawberry huller) and Elaina mashing them (she is surprisingly strong!!)
After being washed, hulled, and mashed, the berries got to sit and suck up some sugar for a few hours (yes, I said sugar! 1/2 cup sugar per 4 cups strawberries I have deemed acceptable. Thus saith the Sugar Nazi – and the Ball Blue Book) before I cooked them up and canned them. Now, as I type, I am hearing the sweet “pop!” of sealing jars. That, my friends, is the sound of satisfaction! I don’t care what anyone says about making stuff from scratch being too much work – there is nothing like the satisfaction of knowing you made it yourself, and you’re feeding your family the healthiest food possible, for the best price possible.
Now I have to get off of my soapbox here and scrub cooked-on strawberry juice off of my stovetop . . .
God is good, Sherriff Bob!
Five points for that one! 
This was my first thought this morning, as I heard the rain pouring down and realized that I didn’t have to drag myself out of bed to water the gardens before the kids woke up this morning. Usually, I get up around six (without an alarm clock – I somehow just got programmed to do that. It’s pretty handy!) and spend the next hour and a half watering the gardens and feeding the chickens – but today, when I just happened to be up too late last night, and had a cute Bug snuggling with me, I got to stay in bed until 7:30 (when I had to get up and bake the muffins I had mixed up last night).
And we sure needed that rain, too. My gardens will be happy (as will the neighboring farmers!)
Thanks, God! That was a nice gift this morning!
Finally!
We finally made it to Milwaukee to see the new twins this weekend – and it was worth the wait. What cuties! Here’s Nathaniel:
Ok, he doesn’t always look that goofy; that picture just makes me laugh every time. Here’s Trevor:
And here (drumroll please) is the long-awaited double-twin picture:
All the gory details
*Warning* The faint of heart should NOT read this post. I grossed out a 12-year-old boy today; I think that’s the least squeamish audience there is!!!
That said, I butchered another chicken today. I have had my two-year-old Rhode Island Red hens separated from the rest of the flock for about a month now, and they are only laying, between the three of them, about one egg every four days. So it’s time for them to become soup.
I’ve been putting it off, but finally today (after being encouraged by the first few chapters of Joel Salatin’s “Family Friendly Farming”) I decided to bite the bullet and do it. Sam, of course, wanted nothing to do with it. He is too emotionally attached to the chickens to consent to killing them (“Mom, you’re mean!”). Hannah, however, hesitantly decided she wanted to see (and afterward decided that next time she didn’t want to be around). The older boy from the family who is living downstairs, however, was all for it, and even asked if he could cut the throat (although when it came time to actually do the deed, he was totally grossed out – this would be the aforementioned 12 year old).
So, with the dogs safely in the house and a trio of kids watching (Hannah even delivered the victim for me) I set to work. Pretty much as soon as the blood had drained and I started plucking, the kids decided they’d seen enough and went off to play, leaving me to finish the job. It actually went much faster than last time (perhaps because I wasn’t as nervous, and knew a little better what I was doing), and I was finished before lunch.
Gory as it was, there were a few interesting moments – such as when I noticed that the hen must have eaten a blade of grass right before being brought up, because there it was sticking out of the severed throat! And when I was pulling out the guts, there was a fully-formed, hard-shelled egg (the only other chicken I’ve butchered was a rooster, so this was a surprise). There were also four yolks, in graduated sizes, waiting their turn to be “egged”, as well as a bunch of tiny proto-yolks. It was very educational! Of course, my students were not about to come back and see . . .
But I had a lovely extra-yolky fried egg for lunch, we now have cooked ground chicken ready to be made into enchiladas, and enough chicken stock to last us a good couple of weeks (until I get up the gumption to “process” another hen . . .)
~~~~
When I called Sam in for lunch, he declared, “I’m never eating meat again!” On searching through the fridge and seeing leftover hot dogs, he softened that to, “I’m only eating SOME kinds of meat.” And by the end of lunch, he was saying, “Well, I’m for sure not eating chicken any more . . .”
Of course I may just not tell him what’s in the casserole . . .
- Aren’t you glad I didn’t take any pictures??? -
My Hero
Although he rides a midnight blue motorcycle and not a white horse, Peter came to the rescue and saved me last night:
My keyboard is back to normal. Apparently, if Josiah had pulled the buttons off of a regular keyboard, it would have been simple to snap them back on; but on our laptop, it’s a much more delicate job. But Peter pulled it off, and our keyboard is up and running again!
That’s my girl!
While we were driving home today, Hannah and I were discussing the deaths of a number of our new baby chicks (we’ve lost 7 now). Being our resident animal lover, she is very distraught about the whole thing, but she ended the conversation by saying consolingly, “At least we know that whatever happens, it’s God’s will!”
Keeping up with the Zoellners
A week or so ago, Kirsten told me that her computer was on the fritz so she wouldn’t be blogging much.
Not to be outdone, our computer recently developed issues as well. Unfortunatly, it is very evident what caused our problem.
Almost two-year-old + thirty seconds alone with the computer = we need a new keyboard. That’s right, while I was outside and Peter’s back was turned, Josiah pulled the buttons off of our laptop!
(Although, as you can probably tell, I’m making do rather nicely. Thank you, Mr. Putz!)
Stats
I had to get the kids’ statistics for insurance purposes this afternoon, and here’s how they weighed in:
Sam – 55 inches, 63 pounds
Hannah – 48 inches, 50 pounds
Naomi – 45 inches, 51 pounds
Elaina – 38 inches, 26 pounds
Josiah – 36 inches, 30 pounds
You’d think I had two sets of twins (yes, Josiah still outweighs Elaina by 4 pounds, even after having the stomach flu for almost a week!) Can you tell which take after the Westendorf side, and which have more Zoellner genes???
The older “twins”
