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He’s no Dr.Quinn…

November 14, 2010

…but he has to be the best rabbit OB/GYN on Chicken Gizzard Ridge. In my attempt to give Geoff a night off from his evening chores I discovered that one of our promiscuous rabbit ladies had given birth to a mighty litter of TEN little bunnies. Being that this little lady was not supposed to be pregnant, that it is her first litter, and that it is not a great time of year to be a tiny, hairless, rabbit infant, the baby-booms might not survive. But, rest assured, Dr. Geoff has done his best to give the little bun-buns a shot at life. The rest is in the hands of their rabbit mom.

Below is a picture of the little litter huddled together. Note the nervous, ill-prepared look in the mamma bunny’s eye. Note also the quizzical eye of the Scootie peering up from the bottom of the cage. Scooter is the ever curious bunny watcher and Geoff’s apprentice in all things. Surely he will ask to deliver the next litter.

In other news, we’ve made some new friends. Turns out, we have neighbors who are on a path very similar to our own. They are from Washington state (but have lived in California and Hawaii among other places) and they, too, found their little slice of Kentucky on the internet. They are using similar sustainable farming practices to the ones we are using. I can’t explain what a huge relief it is to know that we are not the only ones who dropped everything and moved to rural Kentucky to pursue sustainable agriculture. Also, they love our chicken. Having neighbors that appreciate the food that Geoff produces without hormones, pesticides, antibiotics, or other unnecessary chemicals is a blessing. Don’t get me wrong. I love our Amish neighbors and our regular ol’ Kentucky neighbors, but now we have some people to bounce ideas off of and collaborate with. For me, it is an answered prayer.

And now, for another story about poop. If you are a follower of this blog, then you know I can’t go very long without writing about poop. As the saying goes, poop happens. And in our lives it seems to be an ever present obstacle (sometimes a blessing and sometimes a curse). This month’s poop story, unfortunately, is about the human variety. Let me take you there.

Friday afternoon I arrive home from school, worn out, but not exhausted, eager to see my sweet husband. I play the usual round of dodge the turkeys as I try to figure out what far reaching corner of the farm Geoff has wandered away to. I am in luck. Geoff is working on a grape arbor in our back yard.

Hello.

Hello.

Hugs.

Kisses.

How was your day?

Shitty. Literally.

What?

Didn’t you see the mess when you came in?

What mess? (Thinking to myself that surely I would have noticed shit had their been an enormous pile of it in the path from my car to Geoff.)

Look over there. (Geoff points to the area of the yard under which our septic tank is buried.)

Geoff walks me over and together we stare solemnly at a large region of our yard that appears to have been dug up and turned over a few times. This is the part of the story where I point out that Geoff is a very slow story teller. If his goal is suspense, he achieves it every time. So I am standing in the yard, staring at the crumbly earth, and wondering what the rest of the story is. Geoff continues with the exposition. I will spare you the breadth of Frietag’s pyramid and skip to the end. It turns out that while I was at work our septic system backed up into the house plumbing. It came up through the tub and toilet and literally rained sewage into our basement. Geoff has a really awesome HD video of the poo-water raining from the ceiling. For now you’ll just have to imagine Geoff, an iPhone 4, and the poo storm. Fortunately, the plumbers and septic workers in this region of the country are quick to the rescue. Geoff called and someone came out immediately. It turns out that when the previous owners renovated they did not do their due diligence when it came to pipe diameters. The pipe that lets grey water exit our house went from 4-inches to 2-inches abruptly and did not have the correct downward slant. All of this is the perfect recipe for Poop-agedon 2. So, our hero young Geoff found himself wading in a sea of Poo and a hefty repair bill instead of engaging in whatever other tasks he had planned for the day (which likely also involved poo, but the animal variety–slightly less traumatic).

Life continues to be full of surprises here on the farm, and it continues to be good. Now we are preparing ourselves for the Thanksgivings which start Friday with the arrival of my parents and last through the real Turkey day and beyond with a visit from Geoff’s family. Hopefully our Turkeys will cut the mustard.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. Mitzi permalink
    November 14, 2010 5:55 PM

    Ewwwwwwww!!! Gross!

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