I’m just going to leave this here because the likelihood of Mr. K ever carving another one is slim.

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It finally looks and feels like fall here, with temps in the 40s and much needed rain falling for the last two days.

Wednesday I dug the last of the carrots as Mr. K planted the garlic; the 2016 garden production officially ended and the 2017 season began.

In spite of the drought conditions we experienced through the summer, we harvested a bumper crop of peppers, tomatoes and beans. The viney plants, however, did not fare well, and the cukes, squash and melons were a total loss. Fortunately we live in an area rich in agriculture and we’re able to buy whatever produce we can’t grow.

The chickens have yet to deliver the first egg, so I’ve leaned the axe up against the fence as inspiration.

Once egg production begins, it’s one more thing I can permanently cross off the grocery list.

The so-called “simple life” may be a lot of work, but I’m happy to help support local farmers that are producing real food, as opposed to behemoth corporations that are producing food like substances.

yuckCase in point, here is the ingredient list on a carton of heavy cream. You know what I expected to be in there? Cream.

Our food system is broken folks. And if you can’t shake the hand of the farmer that grew at least some of your food, it’s only contributing to the problem.

So I’m jumping off one soap box and on to the next… the upcoming election. As a registered independent I vote on the issues, regardless of political party. The debates weren’t particularly helpful, and throughout the campaign the candidates have spent more air time bad-mouthing each other than they have discussing the many issues facing this country.

But please, don’t vote for Hillary Clinton based solely on the fact that she has a uterus.

And please don’t vote for her because of her position on gun control, because you’re being misled. There is no such thing as a gun show and/or internet loophole and there is no such thing as an “assault weapon.” It’s simply a matter of aesthetics. Those scary-looking black guns are semi-automatic, which are the most commonly owned firearms in the country, and they fire one round for each pull of the trigger. I can’t think of a single incident in recent history that involved a fully automatic firearm. The internet is your friend, and you can verify everything I’m telling you.

And if neither candidate appeals to you this election, consider a write-in vote for DammitDiesel. IMO, he’s as intelligent as any other candidate and, aside from that whole peeing when he’s excited thing, he’s far more trustworthy.

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We ran into some heavy traffic this weekend.

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And just when you thought he couldn’t get any better…

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Bright Side of the Road

Today is a good day for some Van Morrison

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The countdown begins…

We should start seeing some egg production in about four months.

They’ve already doubled in size since we brought them home.

We moved them out of the laundry room and into the big-girl coop last weekend, but they’ve been confined to the coop ever since.

The theory is that if you confine them inside, with food and water, they will seek refuge there when they feel threatened.

Mr. K is finishing up their outdoor run as I type.

Can’t wait to turn them loose so I can clean the coop without all the chicken drama.

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A deer selfie I just found on the trailcam…

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Seriously 2016?

Here’s to you Gord Downie.

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Just some chicks hanging out

in my laundry room…

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This is the Spring that Never Sprung

dandelion jellyFor the most part, it’s been a cool, damp spring. In fact, it’s a chilly 42° and overcast here today and I can hear the furnace running as I type.

Since most of our usual outdoor activities are on hold, I’ve had to find new ones. Like making dandelion jelly. Mostly because it’s the only crop we have an abundance of right now.

Making dandelion jelly is a labor intense process, requiring a lot of hand energy that my carpal tunnel likes to bitch about.

So Mr. K accompanied me to the field to help gather the blossoms. We had the basket half full when he turned to me and said “Man, I hope no one asks me what I did today.”

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