An Egg's a Pipping

My first egg is pipping. It’s a day early, but it looks like my first chick will hatch sometime this afternoon or early this evening. Hopefully that means lots of others will follow over the course of the next day or two.

Once these eggs have hatched, I’ve got another batch ready to go in the incubator. These will all be Bantam (banty) eggs and are for my neighbor. It will be interesting to see how many of those hatch out too.

I’ve got the brooder all ready to go. Tomorrow, I’ll put the light in it and begin heating it up for the new chicks. Just finished washing the feeder and waterer, so those will be ready also.

Sometime in the next week or two, Kevin and I are planning to get the garden ready for planting. With any luck, we’ll have an early spring and can get things in the ground a bit sooner than normal. (Usually it’s around mid May.)

This weekend tho, we’ll be busy at the sawmill. We cut eight pines this past weekend, so we’ll have about two and a half ton to cut into boards. First, we’ll have to haul them to the loading ramp. We were going to try to do that last Sunday, but it rained off and on and we finally told ourselves it would have to wait. But if we start early on Saturday, perhaps we can have it all milled out by the time we quit on Sunday afternoon. We’ll see how it goes.

For now, time to go check on my pipping egg one more time.

Friday, Once Again

Well, here it is Friday again and it seems like ages since I’ve written last. Not that I haven’t been writing, just that its all been content for other people. Oh, well, the moneys good.

What little spare time I’ve had in the last week or so, I’ve used either being domestic (unusual for me) or researching my family’s roots. Daunting task that is.

I wish I had paid more attention to the stories I was told as a kid. This whole adventure came up because for some reason I was trying to remember my great grandmother’s name. The more I tried to remember, the blanker my mind became. (Maybe that’s a definite sign I’m getting older).

But after a search on Ancestry.com, I did find her – with three or four variations of her name. She went from a Mertie, to a Murtie, to a Myrtle to a Myrle. Guess that really isn’t so strange, I’m not called by the name I was known as a kid either.

Last weekend, we cut wood. Hardwood. A completely new learning experience for both of us. I guarantee that before we do that again, we will both of dust masks. And maybe plan it for a day when there is no North wind blowing. I do have to admit, the Post Oak and the Red Oak we cut did turn out beautiful boards. I can’t wait to build something with the wood. I just don’t know what, yet.

My chickens should begin hatching next Wednesday. I’m hoping by Monday I should be able to hear the tiny ‘cheep, cheeping’ inside the eggs. If I can get past my excitement, I’ll post my success rate by Thursday. This is going to be so much fun.