More photos will be coming when I have time.
We have a small greenhouse nursery business. One day a supplier was talking about the cost of oil, and to expect fertilizer to go up in a breathtaking way. Great. Pots, soil, chemicals, fuel, and I needed to fertilize the garden. So I said, "We should get chickens." It was a lot like the time I was gazing at the prolific grape crop and I said,"We should make wine." The husband jumps into things with both feet. (He is still dragging them on a dairy goat, but that may be a good thing. Farming makes me awfully tired. It's like rearing a child, you're never really done, even when they want you to be.)
The coop got delayed for the new green house. The boy kept saying, "Shouldn't we build the coop first? We have chicks coming." Well, the chicks came. We didn't finish the greenhouse either. Then the rains came... The chicks are still in the house. I am hearing cheeping in my sleep. Probably because they are cheeping...and I'm not sleeping. Farming makes me awfully tired. 'The hen before the pen' wasn't a good motivating factor after all.
The girls are in their new home. It is really nice. I want one for me now. If my husband will build me one each winter and on the fifth winter connect them with a main building... I'll have a nice little house. No more commuting to the nursery. (Notice the thumb below. You know the man loves you when he does that and just keeps working. Either that or some thing's wrong with his nervous system. I would have died.)
I had bantams as a child. I loved the little eggs. They were the perfect size for a kid. We have Buff Orpingtons now, and my husband has his eye on getting some black giants. Like I said, both feet. If we won the lottery, which we won't because we don't play, but if we did,...we'd farm till it was gone. Normal people think we are nuts, but as a friend explained to me, they are just jealous. I love the girls. They sit in my lap and coo and brrrrk. I have lawn chairs in the coop and if we can't find the boy, it's because he is in the coop talking to the ladies. The ladies look like several of them will be guys. They are very nice guys, but how many guys do we want? We will see. We can't eat them now. They have names. My favorite two are Thurston and Lovey Fowl III.
We have one small chick that is having real problems growing out it's tail feathers. The other chicks want to help, and thus a bloody screaming chicken. I thought about going to the vet and just having the nub removed, and then I thought, "Wait a minute! It's a three dollar chicken!" So it is a house chicken now. It is pooping on the back porch as I write this. Not normal. We are just not normal. It is a covert city chicken at night, and an overt farm chick during the day.
So, Greenhouses. We grow hibiscus for other nurseries to grow up and sell to the big nurseries. We are like the plankton of the nursery world. These are stock plants. When business is good they never get to bloom. The recession at least gave me a chance to see what we sell. That red one with the two flowers, it doesn't really look like that in real life. I wish I photographed well like that.
I grow herbs because I like them. I hardly ever cook with them. I just like to look at them and smell them...and grow them, and collect them. I have compulsive obsessive plant disorder. I go to nurseries and buy plants. I garden a lot. I keeps me from exploding.
We also like little ponds.
I am a tad artistic, so we 'arts' it up when no one is looking. The husband and boy are too, but they do not realize it. My son did this for a merit badge, he is going to grow rye seed hair on it before he presents it to the troop.
We have a small greenhouse nursery business. One day a supplier was talking about the cost of oil, and to expect fertilizer to go up in a breathtaking way. Great. Pots, soil, chemicals, fuel, and I needed to fertilize the garden. So I said, "We should get chickens." It was a lot like the time I was gazing at the prolific grape crop and I said,"We should make wine." The husband jumps into things with both feet. (He is still dragging them on a dairy goat, but that may be a good thing. Farming makes me awfully tired. It's like rearing a child, you're never really done, even when they want you to be.)
The coop got delayed for the new green house. The boy kept saying, "Shouldn't we build the coop first? We have chicks coming." Well, the chicks came. We didn't finish the greenhouse either. Then the rains came... The chicks are still in the house. I am hearing cheeping in my sleep. Probably because they are cheeping...and I'm not sleeping. Farming makes me awfully tired. 'The hen before the pen' wasn't a good motivating factor after all.
The girls are in their new home. It is really nice. I want one for me now. If my husband will build me one each winter and on the fifth winter connect them with a main building... I'll have a nice little house. No more commuting to the nursery. (Notice the thumb below. You know the man loves you when he does that and just keeps working. Either that or some thing's wrong with his nervous system. I would have died.)
I had bantams as a child. I loved the little eggs. They were the perfect size for a kid. We have Buff Orpingtons now, and my husband has his eye on getting some black giants. Like I said, both feet. If we won the lottery, which we won't because we don't play, but if we did,...we'd farm till it was gone. Normal people think we are nuts, but as a friend explained to me, they are just jealous. I love the girls. They sit in my lap and coo and brrrrk. I have lawn chairs in the coop and if we can't find the boy, it's because he is in the coop talking to the ladies. The ladies look like several of them will be guys. They are very nice guys, but how many guys do we want? We will see. We can't eat them now. They have names. My favorite two are Thurston and Lovey Fowl III.
We have one small chick that is having real problems growing out it's tail feathers. The other chicks want to help, and thus a bloody screaming chicken. I thought about going to the vet and just having the nub removed, and then I thought, "Wait a minute! It's a three dollar chicken!" So it is a house chicken now. It is pooping on the back porch as I write this. Not normal. We are just not normal. It is a covert city chicken at night, and an overt farm chick during the day.
So, Greenhouses. We grow hibiscus for other nurseries to grow up and sell to the big nurseries. We are like the plankton of the nursery world. These are stock plants. When business is good they never get to bloom. The recession at least gave me a chance to see what we sell. That red one with the two flowers, it doesn't really look like that in real life. I wish I photographed well like that.
I grow herbs because I like them. I hardly ever cook with them. I just like to look at them and smell them...and grow them, and collect them. I have compulsive obsessive plant disorder. I go to nurseries and buy plants. I garden a lot. I keeps me from exploding.
We also like little ponds.
I am a tad artistic, so we 'arts' it up when no one is looking. The husband and boy are too, but they do not realize it. My son did this for a merit badge, he is going to grow rye seed hair on it before he presents it to the troop.
