This weekend was one of record-breaking heat, and it really was unbearable outside. I felt so bad for the guineas and chicks in the coop that I let the grown-up guineas stay in the outdoor enclosure overnight, instead of shutting them inside (side benefit - less poo inside the hutch in the morning,so score one for me, the Chief-Poo-Remover-er). However, Big C. was absolutely determined to engage in a building project, and thus it was that we settled upon the creation of the sand box. So, I'd like to unveil our lovely new sand box - ta da!

The advantage of having your property completely littered with two year's accumulation of building material and miscellaneous building crap is that finding something to make a sand box out of is relatively easy. Walk out door. Look on ground. Assemble with nails or screws of your choice.

Which is why this particular sand box bears an eerie resemblance to the floor joists in our garage. And the sand, if one was very observant, is uncannily similar to the sand used in the grout between the bricks that cover our entire house. Free labor provided by Dada and a "found" reciprocating saw. We do own the hammer he used, though.

And here's an interesting side bar - that sunny patch of grass behind the kids in the sand box? That used to be the location of the dreaded 1960s trailer that was on the property when we first bought it. So Big C.'s project wins a star - not only for recycled content and environmental beautification, but also because now his sisters really think he's a hero. Turns out a sand box in the shade is a most lovely way to spend a hot sunny Sunday.

Our property has about 27 acres of forested land. Big trees, little trees, dead trees and live ones. I have learned about the highly toxic black cherry, whose leaves are the most fatal when withering, and I have learned how to identify a black gum tree without a shadow of a doubt (cut a wee branch along its length and look for the central, rectangular "cells" in the pith, like a stack of little blocks). I can identify hickory, swamp maple,tulip poplar,sassafras, sycamore and dogwood as well as the seedlings of pawpaw. Pretty good for a Canadian girl who hadn't seen any of these, growing up! The woods here are an entirely different entity than those of my childhood, and it has been humbling and fascinating to learn about so many new species.

It is amazingly ironic, then, that one of the countless birds around here chose to create a nest - not in one of our many trees, heck, no - but in a rickety metal ladder we had leaning up against our "portable storage facility" at the front of the house (yes, the back portion of an 18-wheeler. Scenic, no? It has been here so long that I don't notice it anymore, which is probably a Bad Thing.).

The kids like to climb the ladder to check on the baby birds, while I fear for the birds' safety and wonder what the heck the parents were thinking.

Every day is a new adventure.

We've been very busy - Grandma (and cousin Maddie) came for a visit, and approved the new/old house! We've been doing swim camp and riding lessons and jujitsu and the guineas and chicks are growing, and the garden is, too. We went to the local county fair (where junk food for the day is the rule - yes, Funnel Cake was a large part of my dinner) and we've been discovering new, cool things in our neighborhood. Mom and Pop bakeries, small grocery stores offering amazing local products, local milk in glass jugs....this is a pretty cool little corner of the world!


And sometimes, we just sit on the front porch and enjoy the view....

Big. C. grinned the ENTIRE time he was on Audrey. And the instructor thinks he has a "natural affinity". WHO KNEW????

Miss. P. on Audrey - looking a little apprehensive, but she assured me later that she really DID have fun.

Miss. Q struts her stuff on Audrey.

The chicks are here! The chicks are here!
31 Wyandottes and one "mystery chick".
They're living in the hallway for a few days, so I can keep an eye on them, and then they will make the big transition to the coop! That means Big C. and I are going to have to get busy building some nesting boxes this week....

The proud farmer.
Or at least the proud guinea-hutch-making assistant.
I know I'm biased as his Muma and all, but isn't he handsome?




Which brings us to Guineas. The weirdest domesticated bird to be found. But,having raised them from day-old chicks, I have to say that I have taken a real shine to these birds. Out of thirty chicks, 28 have survived to adulthood, which seems pretty hardy. And now that they are free-ranging around the homestead, our tick population has plummeted. I can say this with some authority, as every night I "tick check" the children AND the dog. At first, we would pick two or three ticks off the kids in the course of any given day, and on bad evenings, I have actually pulled more than 30 ticks off of the dog. (And yes, we DO use an anti-flea and anti-tick - FRONTLINE - medication on him, every three weeks, as advised by our vet). Sooooo, I know from ticks.

Imagine how pleased I was last night, then, when I found NOT A SINGLE TICK, not on the dog, not on the kids, not on me. The guineas have been free-ranging for barely 2 weeks! Granted, this is the end of "tick season" and Rick has mowed and cut and trimmed and slashed the rampant verdant growth around the farmhouse, but I'd like to give the guineas their due. They return to their hutch every night (see below), they wander around the farm eating bugs all day, and they are excellent at warning of approaching visitors, low flying hawks, and 747s (they are admittedly a little confused by large airplanes, causing them to panic and run for cover).
Here's to guineas!

Now I'm off to deal with the chickens...