It's Tonya's husband again, so here is the disclaimer: The following is not from Tonya, the following information is provided for entertainment purpose only.

We picked up some pigs the other day.  They are very docile unless you move them from their comfortable surroundings, they fight and scream so loud that if you closed your eyes you'd think you were in a steel mill.  As they were making me look foolish because I couldn't grab one I thought "no wonder they grease them and allow kids to try and catch them."  I'm not even sure you need to grease them.  They sure are cute though, except for their poop.  Just ask Keena.

Pigs are just like rototillers.  They are amazing, now I know why you are supposed to give them room to roam and rotate them into different fields.  Pig meat is also actually red, not white.  The "other white meat" thing is just a marketing ploy.  Keeping pigs cooped up in massive F DA approved facilities changes the meat so it does not have the same nutritional value as pigs that graze.  I can also better appreciate the cliche "you eat like a pig" after watching these guys.  We supplement with a little corn and pig feed but most of their food comes from vegetation until later in winter.

This is just before checking out animals at the auction (Calvin is working on his cowboy pose and TJ is becoming master of the electric fence).

Things are bigger in MO, especially marshmallows ("no Keena, I'm not going to buy those") and tennis balls.

Here I made a rear gate for the truck bed out of trampoline parts, 

Our little girl's hair sure is soft and pretty.  Why did we give her a boy's name?  I've got to ask Tonya about that.

Local raw milk & honey, on the honey it says "...all the essential minerals necessary for life, 7B-complex vitamins, amino acids, and other vital ingredients.... processed honey has been heated and filtered which destroys its nutritional value."  Also, the milk is actually $5 a gallon.  Milk at Walmart is $4+ so we just go to a farm and buy it, and no, you don't have to boil it and kill it's nutritional value like the gubmit says.  As you learn more about producing food and speaking with other farmers, you realize that the "raw milk is illegal" claim from the gubmit has nothing to do with protecting your health. Big milk producers absolutely don't want farms to sell milk because it cuts into their profits.  So that's where the health dept comes in.  It's really ole fashioned fascism, it's not capitalism that's going on.  The big producers call favors in from their friends in the health departments around the country.  For example, in MO, I can sell milk from a farm, but if I step off of the property and sell the same milk where the big producers do it's illegal.  How does the milk change when it leaves the farm?  It doesn't.  The real reason I can't is because I can sell a better gallon of milk that's already in high demand and spend only a fraction producing it compared to the big milk companies and their health dept. "approved" facilities.  Plus by doing so it demonstrates how the health dept. is absolutely useless when it comes to protecting our health and only wastes our money.

    

Animal shopping.  It's like used car shopping except... we'll I guess it's just like used car shopping because you can check out a few things but you can never know everything.

We ate at the only restaurant in Highlandville. The meal was truly excellent, and they have something called fried pies. It was so quiet and felt so remote compared to what we're used to that it didn't matter what was going on in the rest of the world.  I also met one of Highlandville's two cops and the Mayor.

For my next post I'm going to try and get a pic of our postal lady.  When I was dropping off mail a customer heard me say that we just moved from NoVA.  He said “Northern VA?  That’s a big change, what brings you here?”  I said that I needed to get away from politically correct stupidity.  The postal lady then said “We don’t follow any of those rules around here.”  She sounded like a female version of Clint Eastwood (but she didn't call me "pilgrim").

Musings on Our Dog and His Freedom

     While on one acre nestled in moderately dense suburbia, our dog, Otto, had very little freedom.    It was limited to the house; even if he was allowed to roam the backyard, he would clear the four-foot fence when one of our many squirrels caught his eye.  He was only doing his job, since he is a Schnauzer that is bred to take care of little rodents.  The hunting game was always cut short by the distractions of the freedom in sight, as was true when the front door was left open and he would run.    

     He would run so fast that his back legs appeared to reach the tip of his nose as he sped down the road in a ball of dust.  The kids had to ride their bikes to fetch him.  He ran, oblivious to the dangers around him:  vehicles speeding, do-gooders calling the pound, larger dogs protecting their territory and owners of little dogs threatening to call the police because Otto liked to exert his dominance.  We would eventually find him.  Strangers would even help us at times.  He seemed to always get distracted by something else in the neighborhood and we could grab him.

     When we arrived at the new homestead, the temptations to run came.  He ran, explored, but came back.  He even crossed the 65 mph highway once.  Soon the bolting out the front door stopped, and now his explorations are rarely out of site of the house.   He knows his territory and protects it, and now enjoys lounging on the front porch in the sun.   Now when Otto wants to play, it is not a game of hide-and-seek with the anxiety of not knowing where he will decide to run, but a pleasurable game of tag as he runs huge circles around the tagger.  He prefers to be at my feet, walk with me to the mailbox, and lay down near TJ as he studies.  He responds to his name now, not perfect, but we are getting there.  Cats and ducklings are a distraction, but he pays no heed to the chickens and there is one that likes to follow him from time to time.   A radical change in our puppy; he is like a new dog. 

     As I noticed this radical change, I pondered a little on child rearing and what can happen if the leash is too tight, but I predominately thought about our relationship with our creator, our Master.  Before knowing our redeemer we are in bondage to our sin--it enslaves us.  It controls us.  We are always running to our pleasures: entertainment, the next event, comforts of life, etc.  We run to success, striving to achieve and get lost in the busyness of life.  We run to power and control, wanting it all to go our way.   But we are still trapped within the walls of the house, never getting out though we run.

      In Christ we are free.  Since Christ has set us free, we shall be free indeed.  Because of his death in our stead and his resurrection we have been freed from the bondage of sin and death.  When one becomes a Christian, he loses that desire to run, though the temptation is always there and he fails at times.  But he is no longer on the leash with sin holding on the other end.  Christ broke the leash because of his own mere pleasure and grabbed us.  With that freedom a peace and contentment comes and a desire to sit at the Master’s side.  No longer a running to hide from Him in worldly pleasures but to be with Him, respond to His voice and please Him.

     There are times when the Christian gets distracted by the things of the world and ventures to far, as Martha, who got consumed with the cares of the world.  But his desire is that of Mary’s, to sit at his Master’s feet, to listen and to please.  With Otto’s freedom came that same desire, and so it is with our freedom in Christ, a desire to be with Him and no longer run.

Warning: It’s me again.  Tonya wants it known that the following is from her husband so here is another disclaimer.  This entry has not yet been rated by the Motion Picture Association nor is it valid in Alaska or Hawaii.  This entry also probably causes cancer in California.

The land in IN is pretty darn flat (I know, that's a great pic of my rear view mirror).

Trying to fit in with the guys, it didn't work.

At around the 700 mile mark the drive becomes very difficult.  This is when you wish your vehicle had features like a built in bun (Tonya won't like that).. er, um a seat massager.  I know, I see it too, I'll stop for fuel at the next exit.

Finally made it, unloading the base of the 2nd goat shed.  And this is essentially the view.

If Heaven needed a Sheriff's dept, they might use these cruisers (look closely at the county).

Our version of an HOA pool (no fees, no one to tell you what to do and no running unless you're bigfoot - the small rocks really hurt your feet).

What the heck?  How did this get in here?  Keena: "Oh sure, do you really think mom wants to see this pic in her blog?"

TJ: "Keena, I know mom doesn't want these pics, this will be the the last one" (a T55... if anyone wants to see a T72 I'll try to slip it in).

Ok, I've got to get back on track, here is a bread thief (I'm glad that loaf was free).

Disclaimer: The following is not from Tonya but from her husband.  Consider this entry to be like the part of a movie that is left on the cutting room floor but is later added to the DVD version.

Trying to pick out an appropriate placard for the move; I was looking for “bio-hazard” or something nuclear related. “No Prawns” from District 9 would have also been cool.

Don’t let little girls pack their stuff without parental supervision.  I found a bunch of tiny boxes in the trailer with things like one small stuffed animal in them.  No wonder we went thru so many rolls of packing tape.

Going out to eat has been fun.  At the Village Inn during free pie night Sammy discovered throwing (he's throwing jelly packages) and is using Calvin as a backstop.

Kid’s meals are bigger in MO.  Sammy: “Come on Lady, I’m only 1 ½… are you serious? I'm going to have to throw more than half of this across the table!”

One evening all we had for dinner was pumpkin pie.  The meal was great (TJ made them) and the best part was that we didn't have to get new plates dirty for dessert.  If more families only ate dessert for dinner it would reduce the amount of water needed to clean dishes and help save the planet.

The chicken lady (Tonya may not like me posting this).

To compensate here’s a cool pic of Tonya that has nothing to do with MO (except maybe that she looks like Josey Wales' great great great grand daughter).

Keena really likes her new room.

I love this truck, it compensates for my lack of farming knowledge.  When I show up at the feed/tractor supply people automatically think I know what I’m doing.

The van... well not so much.  With some Ford products it would be nice to also own a tow truck.

BTW, the Tractor Supply in Leesburg is the equivalent of a 7-11.  The tractor supply type stores in MO are serious business, they have fork lifts and loading docks that you pull up to (Tonya posted a pic of one).  You can also buy oil the old fashion way in 55 gallon drums.

The only nice thing about being alone and trying to find a renter for the house in VA is that I can eat chocolate at any meal.  These are awesome.  They must be the equivalent of meth in the drug world.  If the kids were around I couldn't get away with this.  They would think “dad eats one whenever he wants so it’s ok for me” and with only three of these in a box for $4.75 I couldn't afford it if the whole family got addicted.  When I get back to MO I’m going to have to hide when I eat these.  I also get to drink beer whenever I want (thanks to Vinnie for this one).

Chick Days

 Now that our animals have adjusted to their new surroundings…           

 

…we are ready for more to raise.  

   
The plan was to get chicks in the early spring so we could have egg layers in the late summer, but Saturday was Chick Days at a local hardware and farm store so we decided to bump up our plans a little.  We bought 200 chicks along with ten guineas and five ducks just for fun.  There was a water trough available to use on the property for a brooder, so we put 100 pullets (females) in it along with wood shavings for bedding.  We had to buy another trough for the second 100 that are “straight run” (a mix of male and female).  All the roosters will be heading to the stew pot when they are old enough.

The red light is what makes this set up a brooder.  It keeps the chicks at a nice warm temperature, imitating the warmth of mama hen.  Really, any strong incandescent bulb will do (as long as those environmentalists don’t outlaw them all).  The red light will allow them to get the sleep they need at night so they don’t think it is daylight all the time.   

We just need to keep them fed, watered and dry.  The ducks are a bit of a challenge, they drink three times the water and like to get it all over them and their bedding.  Aren’t they cute?  

Family Bonding

     A friend told me that one of the most precious things when they moved was the time the family spent together.  All they had was each other and their relationships grew.  Someone else who I know and moves quite a bit told me that the first six weeks are priceless for family bonding, then a child gets invited to a birthday party and the world pours in.  The kids are enjoying each other and having a great time.  Don’t make a wrong assumption as is common when reading blogs; frequently someone gets on another’s nerves, out of work, or up on the wrong side of the bed.  We haven’t found the solution to have a perfect family but they are having fun doing things together.  

     Three of the boys went exploring and found a cave with the excuse that one of them needed to describe a place for his writing assignment.  Two went exploring down one side of a hill and ran into a nest of yellow jackets so they turned around and flew home, each leaving one of their Crocs behind.  After three days they ventured back to get the lost shoes.  One of the rooms in the double-wide mobile home on the property has a painfully bright, pink room.  The three girls have spent hours setting up and playing with all their girly toys.  The second oldest has been baking pies frequently.  The kids pulled out some old games last night.  One of the boys, in an attempt to get out of unpacking the truck by secretly riding off on his bike discovered that, "It was a lot of work to get out of work."  He and one of his brothers flew down a very steep hill and then spent many grueling minutes pushing the bike up. 

  

    Our family van was out of commission for a week, but thankfully is fixed and in better shape than it has been in a long time.  The kids want to get out and make new friends, but they have been enjoying one another in the meantime.