A certain David Bowie song has been flitting about in my brain band here lately.
Why might you ask? Well, the only constant in life is change, don't ya know? Or at least that's the common saying. And boy howdy, do we ever have some changes going on around the homestead.
For instance, I walked out this morning to go tend to the feathered fracas and spied this:
The rhubarb is budding out?! IN FEBRUARY! GASP!
That, as far as I can remember, has NEVER happened. Of course, I also can't remember going from -32 to almost 60 Fahrenheit in a few days either, but things are just a swinging around here.
But back to the rhubarb, I just can't believe it!
What's a bit disconcerting about it, is that when we get early springs, well, we can also get absolutely horrifying fire seasons. I'm never one to count out North Idaho's climatological fickleness though, we could and usually do get winter 3.0, false spring, almost spring, winter the wintering, and of course spring the joke parts one and two.
Another sign of the early impending spring is our chestnut tree. The buds are far too advanced for the first week of February. It's just unnatural I tell ya! I mean, by this time of year I am usually hankering for the sun and warmth, but all things have unto themselves a season and the seasons, they be wonky!
One thing about the impending early spring that I have NOT been enjoying is an extended mud season. For about a month, usually March, every year, my place turns into a giant mud bog. Break up as it's know round here is a festival of silty mud. I think it might be named the way it is because you break up with the notion of ever having a clean floor for its duration. Sad times in cleanliness land.
So, yesterday the hubs and I did one of our yearly homesteading road chores, we made drainage canals. My driveway had tailings dumped on it for almost thirty years, but the thing about having eight feet of silt is that it just ingests any road accoutrements that you give it. Any rock that you put down gets sucked to the center of the earth. Since I only have to deal with mud season for usually one (or two) months a year it's really no biggie, but this year is definitely going to be one for the memory books.
If I were a gazillionaire, I would totally excavate down several feet, put in a base of pit run, then crown the road base with several loads of crushed D-minus. But...my driveway is a half a mile long and I don't have that kind of cheddar.
So like many homesteaders everywhere, I make do.
And sweep. And mop, and do excess laundry the months of March and sometimes February.
There are a bunch of creatures who are enjoying the early temperate climate though. The girls and Oscar the duck are all sorts of contented. They are also a bit spoiled with a heated perch, heat lamp, and heated water. I don't think my accommodations are a fine as theirs. That said, I do think mine smells better.
Thanks to the trusty timer, we have been flush with eggs all winter long, the girls are quite prolific layers. I just like that they lecture me like I am the one annoying person in the HOA. You'd think they'd like me because I bring such cool dishes to the daily potluck, ungrateful chicks....
And on that note, I better jet. I still have yet to get my garden plan laid out and order the few seeds that I need. To be honest, I don't really need a ton of seeds this year, but I hardly ever order garden seeds this late. It's just with school and health stuff, I am a bit delayed on some things. You know, cause changes.