It's getting real

He never gives up on me

Before I get back to the story about our journey to the hills of Arkansas, I’m going to fill you in what has happened this week. I will finish that story and title it “What brought ya’s here-Part 2.” There is much more that happened during our Galveston vacation, so I don’t want to rush that.

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Back to the farm

So my sweet dreams of raising Buff Orpington dual purpose chickens is down to approximately 15% success. That means out of 13 beautiful blonde little baby chicks we are down to 2 hens. I have been mothering these chicks by bringing them into the yome every night, locking them up, catching and petting them to help them want to be my chickens, feeding them all the best scraps from cooking and dinner, making up funny dialogue as they do things to make the kids laugh, and alas, last weekend was the end for young Sturgill our rooster, and two of the golden girls, Blanche and Dorothy. (The hens all looked exactly the same, I have chosen those two names because they were my least favorite characters on the show.)

Here’s how it went down. I was going to spend the weekend in Marshall because I was scheduled to work, Bill wanted to pack up more of our things and stay up north with our three children. As I was getting ready to leave Josie said, “ they are talking about a bad storm on the radio.” I was like, “quiet child, I am getting ready to leave.” Of course, my husband heard us and decided to look up the radar. “looks like its heading exactly the same path you are.”

I had not worked the week before, so I felt obligated to go. I asked Josie to help me catch the chickens, Sturgill and the golden girls, and my husband was like, “are you wanting them to keep you company?” I thought, “Well no, I guess they can stay here, since I am only going down for 2 days. They are getting increasingly heavy, and I usually have Bruce and Josie to help me move the cage in an out.” I told Josie she needed to take care of them, make sure they got the table scraps and put away at night and raced out trying to beat the storm and my protective husbands’ rational, logical reasoning. Unfortunately, there was a blood thirsty, city raccoon waiting in the shadows of the storm- to hop down, pull the cage away from the rental house in concrete-ville suburbia, Republic, MO, and blood was shed. Only Sophia and Rose remain.

Meanwhile, I was driving from 8 to 11, in this terrible storm, hoping this wasn’t as terrible of an idea, but I knew it was. He was right again. I stopped for gas near Wild Bill’s at the border between Missouri and Arkansas. People were parked everywhere, the pumps were full, so I waited. Finally someone moved their Jeep and I pulled a quick 7 point turn-about, and backed into the pump. My gas light was on, I’d been watching the distance to empty milage decrease down to 33 miles and it had switched to “low fuel” at least 5 miles ago. Just as reminder, I am 38 weeks pregnant and the baby is moving alot, you have to use the bathroom more than usual, and now I am concerned. When I went inside to pay the attendant was waiting at the door inside, “we are only doing restrooms right now, our power went out, I don’t know if that was a tornado that just came through or what but it sucked our doors in.” He pointed to two doors that were crushed into the building along with the door frame, like crushed metal and glass bent into a metal V, inside the building. I asked where the nearest gas station was. I was 1 & 1/2 miles from ‘Wild Bill’s” no problem, I headed that way. Now the storm was not as intense, the 70 mph wind gusts were over, but Wild Bill’s power was also out. Long story long, I prayed, got back on the interstate and made it to Harrison, AR, and fueled up, well past the 33 miles- I should have run out of gas.

At work the next day, I was so slow. I burnt the biscuits and the bacon. I kept having to slow down because the baby was stretching long ways and I was regretting coming at all. My manager’s were super cool and also concerned because I had mentioned to them I was dilated to 4, and 6 is considered active labor. They kept asking, “everything OK?” The ladies who I work with were awesome, helping me catch up all day. I decided to tell them I would rather not work on Sunday morning. I went back to the farm took care of the animals water and our neighbor saw me. He was clearly concerned that I shouldn’t be alone, “down in a holler.” I explained that I had to take care of the animals and he quickly responded, “I can take care of the animals, no problem.” I laughed to myself thinking, he is basically saying, “ I really don’t want any part of delivering your child.”

So I packed up, stopped at my friend Kara’s new bakery, New Morning Bakery and finally had a chance to catch up with her without having the kids around. She is my friend from Arkansas, who made it possible for my family to stay at the Silver Run Cabins, during our first winter, where Iona was born. They built a beautiful restaurant and are just beginning to get things rolling.

As all of the parts of our life begin to squeeze together, with moving and the baby due the same week, feel free to send a prayer, for strength, peace, and a healthy baby girl. I am feeling very stressed and blessed, we are putting in a lot of effort and I keep being reminded of the quotes and verses that say things like, “if it were easy, everyone would be doing this,” “no growth without struggle,” “keep your nose on the grindstone and out of the pills.”…. wait that last one is not it, here’s the one…

“An average person can be extraordinary at this. But if you don't have any guts, if you don't have any try, you'd be damn lucky to be ordinary.” -Buck Brannaman

That’s all I’ve got this week guys. Thanks for reading, and your prayers. Next Wednesday I will be busy delivering a baby so hopefully August 2, I will be back on schedule.

Anxiously waiting,

Donna Ervin