The Chastain Farms
Today, after I finished some sledgehammer tweaking of the existing greenhouse post levels with Nathan, we all weeded the fenceline around the horse and cow pasture.
The other WWOOFers worked ahead with machetes, taking out the small brush, me behind them with some kind of hoof trimming tool I’d found and deemed good for ground-level cutting of those macheted stumps that were too tall and thick to be weed whacked (which was one part of my role, in addition to removing sticks, pulling the wire out of the ground in anthills, stomping said hills flat beneath the fenceline, keeping Kristin smiling, and carrying extra gasoline and weed whacker cord ). Kristin brought up the rear with a weed whacker.
Along the way around, we experienced some kind of buried object (presumed whiskey still), weird curls of ice crystals extruding from the ground around the base of certain plants, some cow bones, a beautiful assortment of dried weed flower heads (with which we created a bouquet-ish decoration for the sleeping bunker), and two pigs actually having oral sex. Seriously.
The pasture is quite large, and this took some time.
When we got back, Nathan was running a John Deere tractor around an area of miscellaneous field near the Milk Barn (aka the kitchen/”coffee shop”/sleeping bunker building). As the concentric circles of mowed grass got tighter and tighter, more and more rodents of the grasses fled into a smaller and smaller area of tall grasses … until it was time for them to break for safety across the open field. A big hawk divebombed and flew away with a plump kill in its talons – I assume that country hawks quickly learn to pay attention when fields are being worked through with tractors.
Then Widget got in touch with her Rat Terrier heritage, and started her rampage – with 4 kills confirmed within minutes of the mowing’s completion.
I found a pile of old … cow steering things? I didn’t really even know what these are. Anyway, they were just rotting away outside in a heap, so I brought them back to decorate the spartan exterior of “The Bunker” (as I had started to call the Milk Barn). They fit great into the window wells, adding a bit of rustic vintage character from both the outside and the views from inside. Luckily, there were just enough to fill all the windows in the front side.
Then we went for a walk – out to the far rear of the property and beyond, through the woods, past the camphouse, and up to a hunting blind structure we found up on the edge of the field.
For dinner, we experimented with various recipes using available leftovers and canned goods atop of white hamburger bun halves, broiled in the oven; Chastain sweet potato butter dumplings 2 ways, jumbalya sloppy joe mini pizzas, open-face shepherd pies. Then for dessert, more of the same basic concept, but with chocolate chips, Chastain Farms ‘Cowboy Candy,’ spicy raspberry jelly, and Sweet Potato Butter.
Some of these experiments were quite a bit tastier than others, but all were at least entertaining and edible – and some were absolutely delicious.
We went to bed full.