Fancy Acre: 03/10

31 March 2010

How Many Ribbons Can One (third of a) Fancy Acre WIN?

Nic kindly reminded me that the count down to the Oregon State Fair started like YESTERDAY. Which categories do you see us reeling a big blue in for this year? I'm thinking it's going to be embarrassing to the other farmers who have been toiling fruitlessly for years in hopes of a win at the fair and also to feed their families when we just show up holding Patsy Cline, a strawberry rhubarb pie and all the fixins for a Pocahontas tablescape and sweep up 900 awards and ribbons plus free tickets to Willy Nelson. Suckas!

Which category seems like the most important win?

farm & garden????

food arts???

table decorating??? (Probably YES.)

needle work???

Poultry???? (forget it, Tammy)

Look at this fucking hipster.

Farming...It's hawt in hee-uh!

here is a photo of my friend on a tractor. we used to farm and farm and farm. oh wait wrong blog. anyways. i have always like heavy farm equipment - except when i am driving behind it on a narrow country road trying to get to a square dance i am late to, or a chicken and dumplings party in a barn. oh i love the country. fancy acres reminds me of my childhood in that there are lots of things growing and there is so much potential. oh wait...wrong blog again.

Awkward Stage (life)

I wish I could say that the chick that Nic picked out from Gresham was the only one that was looking a little rough around the edges- and Tammy certainly does look the worst- but I must admit that Patsy Cline is also in a state of hard to discuss awkwardness. Her neck is long and light of feather. Her fluff is pushing outward and pointy, underdeveloped teen feathers are starting to erupt like acne all over her body. What happened to my baby-nugget-tiny-princess-puff? Luckily she still lets me pet her on her little tummy, but even that is going through a weird transition! Not that I would ever say that to her face.
As you can see, Tammy is starting to get teen feathers on the top of her head. Nothing says "I will resent these photos for the rest of my life" quite like the look on her face in photo #1, blur and all. She looks crazy. I can't wait to watch those weird feathers get longer and longer until she emerges from the rubble looking like this:

Just gorgeous.

30 March 2010

En Vogue

These are the quail - in much less cute form then when they arrived. And oh, they just started to have much larger poops than when they were fuzzballs the size of quarters. These dinosaurish egg thieves and I have had two weeks of paradise, now I'll regale some quick stories with alphabetical bullets:

A. There were four quail to start, and then Topher needed rosemary shoestring french fries from Burgerville, so we left the hatchlings in the trunk of the car. They were in a box with holes, what else did they need? So the temperature proved too cold for these babies, and their communal metabolism slowed. Now the farm store lad(y) recommended that we get two dozen, lest some don't make it - and the survivors will form a family (more to come). So I rush home and with mayo fingers hold up the dying hatchlings to their new heat lamp. Well they were all cool except for one that wanted to die and drown herself. I'm detached now, but it was really dramatic at the time, like The Bodyguard (no underlining Google? really?). So we have three quail now, one in the backyard, and a pine-scented garage. They are all indistinguishable from each other, so they went from En Vogue at 4 to Destiny's Child at 3. One is the biggest and strongest - obvs Beyonce, and the other two are those other bags - oh one did that good Nelly song.... whatevs, they don't have an accapella (sp?) Ave Maria track on the best album evs - jus sayin. :::: sidenote :::: I'm only blogging because I'm drinking white wine. Excuses Excuses :::::: BUT, my friend Joe reminded me that they lost a member of En Vouge, so we're back to a less competitive name.

B. I don't know what to do with quails - eat them or have their eggs?! Or how to raise them so much... SEAT OF MY PANTS IT IS!!

C. The other night I let Beyonce out to dance on the countertop with us and play balloon volleyball if she didn't have to work in the morning, but she FLEW AWAY FROM ME!! And went under the couch. BUT! when she was pulled away from her sisters, she went from cheerily chirping to an alarm call, and ceased to do it once returned. Supposedly that's how they find each other in the wild - so I'm proud of their innate awareness. I got her back to her gal pals, and all was well.

D. They're too big for their berry pint houses now -- being a parent is hard.

E. The runt rabbit is in heaven now - unrelated - but in theme with letter D.

F. The grade I get for this first post. See you soon chuckleheads.