Just look at what happens when you confess on a blog post to being unable to grow zucchini…
…in less than 36 hours you are given 9 zucchinis!
BIG ones, too!
As my friend Martha said to me as she handed me a bag full of the veggies, “Be careful what you wish for!”
Right now I’m wishing for roasted Italian zucchini with Parmesan cheese – and thanks to my sweet friends – I’m going to get it!
You just never know when an adventure will strike.
Take yesterday for example.
After church we all piled in our faithful old mini van, cranked the AC and headed down the blacktop for the 25 minute -very rural – ride home.
Things started out pretty normal. We were just humming down the High and Dry when Jan suddenly noticed that the engine was starting to heat up. He quickly turned the AC off and slowed down.
It didn’t help. That temperature kept rising – fast . He turned the heat on full blast in a last ditch effort to cool things down. He pulled off in the nearest driveway just as the engine died.
Would you believe that we ended up in a cemetery?!
Our car died in the cemetery!
I don’t make this stuff up. Honest. But wait – there’s more!
So there we were in the the Forrest Home Cemetery with steam coming out under the hood.
Now normally – I love to roam around an old cemetery and read the inscriptions – but with the heat index around 101 and oppressive humidity – we headed right for a shady spot among the gravestones.
There we sat – all six of us – in the Crockett plot by the fence under the oak trees. I perched myself on a nice flat head stone of one Elvious Crockett while we discussed our options.
Jan immediately started calling friends and neighbors to ask them for a lift – but nobody was home! Nobody. Not even you Lavern and Carolyn!
We thought about walking home – but decided that hiking over 8 miles in the excessive heat with no water and wearing flip flops was probably not a good idea.
We thought about flagging down a passing car – if there ever was a passing car.
We searched the graveyard for water. But of course there was nothing – not even a pump.
Meanwhile the bees were buzzing, the temperature was rising and Elvious was feeling a little bumpy.
Finally, Jan – the hero of this adventure- decided to walk about a half mile up the hill to the nearest farm house and see if he could borrow some water to try to make it home.
Would you believe they weren’t home either?! Were does everybody go on a hot & humid Sunday afternoon in July?
He found a bucket sitting by the well, filled it with water, carried it all the way back to the van in the oppressive heat.
We cheered when the van started up.
We returned the bucket with our fervent thanks to the unknown farmer on the High and Dry who left a bucket by his hydrant that morning, and waved good-bye to our buddy Elvious.
Then we drove home with all the windows down – the heater going full blast and a heat index of 101 degrees.
Home never looked so good.
Air conditioning never felt so good.
Lunch never tasted so good.
I’m telling you people – you just never know when an adventure will strike.
Remember our cute little peeps? Those little bundles of fluff have grown – a lot – and are now outside in a movable pen on grass.
The broilers are fat hunks of meat that are just a week away from the freezer and the layers are lively little buggers scratching and running all over.
They have done beautifully - until Sunday night.
It was just another peaceful night in the country. We had the windows open to enjoy a light breeze when at midnight a ruckus in the pen woke me from a very sound sleep. I then woke Jan and – being the good wife that I am – sent him out to investigate while I rolled over and went back to sleep. 
He came in about 30 minutes later and reported a coon had run off from the chick’s pen but he didn’t get a shot at it. He said it was a little hard to hold both the gun and the flashlight – so if the coon comes back, I’d need to come out too.
<Gulp>
Thankfully the rest of the night passed without a return visit.
Round 1: Coon – 0 Us – 0. A Stand-off.
The next night we were ready. We had reinforced the pens and went to sleep confident that they were coon proof. Ha!
My peaceful slumber ended at 3:30 when the entire pen exploded with noise – including the frantic cry of a chick.
Now – at this point – I should have been prepared. I’ve seen enough Little House on the Prairie to know that I needed to sit up and proclaim, “Oh no, Charles, they’ve got Matilda, my best laying hen!”
My husband would jump out of bed, pull on his pants throwing his suspenders over his shoulder as he grabs the gun from the mantle and avenges my hen.
But no – it didn’t look quite like that.
Instead – I jump out of bed, knock over Jan’s radio, run into the door, trip over my shoes and finally make it outside in my jammies with the flashlight.
Meanwhile, my husband pulls on his cowboy boots with his pajama shorts and heads out to grab the gun.
But we’re too late. Somehow that wily coon had attacked a poor defenseless layer through the fence. 
(Let’s interrupt this story for an object lesson – if that silly little chicken had stayed inside the plastic pen inside the fence she would still be alive today. How many times do we step out of God’s protection and do things our own way – only to get hurt!)
Okay – back to the chase.
We shine the flashlight all over – but can’t spot that varmint. Jan grabs the flashlight and heads off into the darkness. It took just a few minutes before I realized that there I was – in the dark – in my jammies – with a blood thirsty coon on the loose. I quickly ran after him and took back the flashlight.
We slowly circle the out-buildings – looking for the pesky critter. It reminded me a little of playing Ghosts in the Graveyard when I was a kid – only the “ghost” hiding in the darkness was not a sibling, but a very alive and crafty coon.
My ankles felt very exposed.
After a thorough search of the area – we decided the coon was long gone – probably enjoying his chicken dinner and wouldn’t be back. So we went to bed.
Ha! It was 4:30 – just about the time that I had finally settled down and forgotten that there were such things as coons in the world – that the chicken pen exploded with frantic cries again.
We grab our shoes, the gun and the flashlight and rush to the pen. We see a fat old coon ambling off down the trail – but he’s too far away to get a shot. Grrr.
The next morning we surveyed the damage. All of the good little chickens who stayed inside the pen were safe, only one chick was lost.
Round 2: Coon – 1, Us – 0.
The next night we decided not to take any chances. We manually moved all of the chicks into the building and the next morning we manually moved them all back out.
Take that you pesky varmint!
It was wonderful to get a full night sleep’s – even if we did add an extra hour of work onto our day.
But this is just a temporary fix.
Somewhere out there is a crafty coon with a taste for young chicken and this farm ain’t big enough for the both of us.
Your days are numbered.
Just wait for round 3.
Jan and I had yet another adventure this last weekend.
In a 1990 blue Ford pickup with a bench seat and manual windows pulling a borrowed trailer – we drove over 8 hours to pick up some new calves.
Eight long hours fighting a head wind.
Eight fun hours talking, laughing and enjoying each others company.
Eight hours that included over an hour of white knuckled driving through St. Louis. Boy did we look out of place – like hillbillies from the sticks! We should have rolled the windows down and spit every now and again to complete the look!
But these cute little ladies were worth it! They are Belted Galloway heifers – otherwise known as Oreo Cookie cows. (Now – how perfect is that for a Chocolate Lady like me!)
We loaded up early Saturday morning, turned the rig around and headed it right back home – another 8 hours.
And of course the wind changed – so we got to fight a head wind all the way home!
Along the way I made a few observations:
Riding on a bench seat in a pickup truck helps you discover muscles and bones you forgot you had – and the experience stays with you for several days! (A strategically placed heating pad helps!)
A Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup McFlurry is the perfect treat while cruising down the highway in the sunshine with your windows down.
Six calves in a stock trailer for 8 hours can make a really big mess that requires a power washing on Sunday morning before you leave for church.
My husband is still my favorite person to take an adventure with.
And – the very best part of any road trip is pulling in the driveway and knowing your home!
Boy do we have peeps!
And I don’t mean the marshmallow kind!
We’ve got the real thing! Some cute little layers to replace the older ladies that are in the coop waiting for retirement.
These feisty little Buff Orpington’s and Red Island Reds should keep things lively for awhile! They’ll grow slowly all summer and will start laying later in the fall.
Hardy little critters and fun to watch!
Then there’s the Cornish Cross broilers. They are cute now but won’t stay that way for long!
In just 8 short weeks and lots of feed this little guys will be butchered and in my freezer. I’m afraid nobody falls in love with the broiler chicks. They really don’t do anything cute – like chase each other around or look for bugs. They just eat. And eat. And eat.
All the chicks have a few more days inside under the lights to stay warm – but then they’ll be outside in the sunshine and on the green grass.
Somehow it just seems more like spring to have baby chicks in the barnyard!