Twin Oaks Farm - Day 4

Another killer day today. Up at 6:30, slept great getting up only once around 3:00 am and then right back down no problem and then had to get up to the alarm. Friday is the big day, preparation for the Farmers Market in Panama City on Saturday plus preparation for processing around 50 chickens on Sunday. Breakfast is the usual 3 duck eggs scrambled, toast with Twin Oaks jam and no coffee today, but Renee does prepare a hot lemon water that she recommends I have about a half hour before I eat to clean my system, I add honey to that and then have it with breakfast. We start with the usual feeding and duck egg collection and then move one of the spare chicken coups over near the door to the commercial kitchen and place two tarps under the coup to contain the chicken poop from the yard, I guess because it is too close to the commercial kitchen to let it lay on the grass like in the pasture. Then Renee starts cleaning all the material used in the processing while I finish cleaning out the garage and the feed storage, I have to sweep it all out with a small kitchen broom. I ask her if she has a push broom and she says, "A what?". Note to self, pick up push broom from my stuff in the storage unit when I'm in Tallahassee over the weekend. With the garage all swept out I can put all the "stuff" back in a neat orderly manner, not that it will make any difference since the two car garage doesn't have a door, a small detail the original home owner left out, so the dirt and leaves will soon retake the garage. So, yeah I can risk using my own push broom, after all it's my back that will be saved. Around 11:00 Renee calls the freight service in Dothan, Alabama to double check that her feed has arrived, sure enough it's ready so she gets a copy of her insurance paperwork to satisfy any interested uniform type that may disagree with my driving technique and another small piece of paper with the name and addresss of the freight service. Then she gives me a single page of notebook paper that is filled out from top to bottom with written directions to get there and back ....... an alarm and a blaring red warning light go off in the back of my head. Warning, warning, I am about to go 26 some odd miles from the back country of Florida into the back country of Alabama, a place I have never been before, hell, I don't even speak the language and I'm going to go there based on written directions from a little 94.5 pound , no offense to Renee, Swiss woman who, don't get me wrong is a very nice woman who is determined as hell to make this organic farm work ... BUT I barely know her and just the general idea of all these forces, the new area, the written directions which are NOT equal to a map, the van I've never driven .... all this coming into play at one time, one wrong turn and I could totally fuck up my day. So I tell her I want to go upstairs to my laptop and check the directions on Google maps, she assures me that the directions are good and with the look on my face I assure her that I'm not going anywhere until I check the computer map. There's just no comparison between looking at a map to get an idea of the general lay out of the streets and just going into it blind because trust is a good thing. Trust yes, buy also verify. Beyond a few small spelling errors the directions are good so I'm off to get the 2600 or so pounds of feed. I move the "Biohazard free area" sign from the driveway so I can move the van, replace the sign and then settle in for a long drive. First thing is to put the seat all the way back instead of all the way forward and then I reach for the seatbelt and pull it around to buckle in, but the belt seems jammed up like they sometimes get so I pull and tug and nothing changes. I look down next to the seat and I can see where someone had cut the seatbelt where it came out of the spool and then tied the remaining portion in a knot and now the damn thing is way too short for me to use. Ok, no problem I just get out of the seat and buckle it up and sit on the safety device that may save my life under certain situations, but could also prevent me from saving my own life under other certain situations. I'm finally on the way. The drive is really nice, it reminds me of the drive we used to take when we were kids to get to our grand parents house from Indianapolis to Elnora, but this is all two lane county roads, twisting and turning, once your going east then north then east again, but I know I'm ok because the journey is unfolding just the way the map said it would, in my minds eye I can see a little red dot that is the van moving down the road on the map making all the correct turns, I'm so glad I looked at the map. Somewhere along the way I smell a BBQ and images of the perfect BBQ sandwich go through my mind. I'm in Alabama and I'm sure this is BBQ heaven, so I start looking for a place to stop and get a bite ... but I don't come across anything so it will have to wait for some other time. Note to self, the next time I'm in Alabama be sure to take the time for a good BBQ meal. The guys at the freight office are super friendly, I'm in and out in a matter of minutes and on my way back in no time. In my mind the return trip seems to take less time and it reminds me of when we were kids and the ride seemed to take forever and this makes me contemplate how time passes faster as you age, is that actually true or does it just seem that way because the older you get the more stuff you have on your mind and it just feels like time is passing faster. Pretty soon I can no longer ponder these questions of time and space because I'm back at the farm and there's 2600 pounds of feed that I have to carry through that little door into the feed cage one bag at a time .... who designed this damn thing anyway? Note to self, if I ever have to design and build a feed cage lets be sure to put in a frickin huge pair of doors that are machine accessible, i.e. you can back the delivery truck right up to the cage .... and put the feed storage area close to the animals that will be eating it .... seems like common sense to me but I'm just in intern, what do I know. I get most of the feed unloaded and then have to stop so we can move the 50 or so broilers from the pasture to the coup in the yard near the commercial kitchen. Renee has a special large plastic storage container that she has modified for this task, the lid has two large square holes cut out and we use it to put around ten hens at a time and then transport them with the riding lawnmower up to the yard. This takes five trips but it seems like a long time. Then we move the younger broiler hens from their small coup to the larger one and feed all the chickens and ducks before heading back to the house where I finish unloading the feed while Renee prepares the finished eggs for the market. The unloading is finished and I'm pooped but there is one more bucket of chicken eggs and two more small ones of duck eggs that need to be cleaned. We are finally finished and have dinner around 7:45. I know she is processing the chickens this Sunday so I ask if she needs any additional help and sure enough someone has said they can't come so I volunteer to come back early Sunday to help out. Processing 50 chickens, that is going to be a new experience, wear expendable clothing she says ...... shit, this has been one long ass day. I head off to a shower and Renee heads off to the office where she still has some labels to print.