Our new barn guest

It began at 5:20am, Monday morning, and has continued with little respite, for the past 4 days.  “brrrrrrrrrap-rap rap rap rap rap rap.  Just like that, one long one, 6 short ones - a little beak on a tin barn roof.  This woodpecker obviously missed the memo explaining the whole wood part of his nature.  However, Paul informed us that the pecking is actually a mating call, so, in fact, this woodpecker could possibly be the cleverest woodpecker to ever exist, as beak-on-metal is a piercing echo and will surely reach great distances, enhancing his chances of finding his better half.  Well, good for the bird, but it’s been a rough couple of mornings for the rest of us.  The situation lost its charm after the second 5:20am start to the day. Since then, even the pacifists and those against using the rat traps have given their consent to our possibly taking more extreme measures.  Poor Bobby, he just hasn’t had the best luck with birds so far (though the one in his walls has since left).  The woodpecker chose to set up shop outside of his window.  On the second morning he swore that if it happened again the next day, he would get a broom and give it a good scare, maybe ‘accidently’ whack it off the roof.   I excitedly supported this action, and I thanked him in advance.  So Wednesday morning comes, the bird starts in right on schedule, but I don’t fret, just lay and listen with anticipation for Bobby to fulfill his promise.  Lay, listen, and wait.  And wait.  And wait.  And suddenly it’s 6:15 and I have to get up.  Irritated, I throw on my dusty jeans and grumble into the kitchen, to find Bobby curled up on the living room couch.  Apparently he had tried the broom, failed, given up and gotten the hell out; the pecking unbearable. 

It’s likely that my day tomorrow will begin at 5:20am, again.  But, the more I’ve thought about it, I’ve realized that the fact that I’m irritated by a bird doing it’s bird thing while I am living in a barn is just ridiculous.  I can’t control nature, nor do I want to -in fact, I want to live fully connected to nature and so here’s my first lesson!  I’m going to try to incorporate the bird’s pecking into my day by waking with it and seeing it as an opportunity (for what, I’m not yet sure) instead of something to be in opposition of.  (Anyone else sensing some Tai Sophia mumbo jumbo …? lol… That’s probably because I was flipping through one of my old acupuncture books tonight. J )

Since it was raining heavily today, we had two classes instead of work!  It was such a relief to spend an entire day on the farm, completely upright.  Ashley taught our first class on composting, and we ‘built’ a pile using the ‘Berkley Method’ (a square 4X4X4 pile, that we will turn for 21 days, resulting in compost with a 30:1 carbon to nitrogen ratio).  Bill, who is wary of putting numbers, formulas or rules on things that naturally occur in nature, scoffed at the idea of a bunch of yoo-hoos down in Berkeley trying to maintain the ‘square’ shape – “yeah right” he said – and suggested that we take all of the information he or anyone else gives us, with a grain of salt.  The pile was pretty cool to build, (like making a layer cake of wet hay, freshly cut grass, compost from our kitchen, chicken shit, dry hay - repeat) but also pretty damn disgusting.  Especially as we dug further down into the compost (at one point, Lisa actually dropped her pitchfork, mid-scoop, to run off and dry heave).  For the next few weeks as we’re turning the pile, Ashley encouraged us to pee on it – “the more nitrogen, the better!” - which works out well for Bobby, who has been dumping his chamber pot (yes, he actually made this a reality) in the empty flower beds outside his window. 

 We get to use the end product in our apprentice garden! Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to plant out our starts yet because of the inconsistent weather. It’s been raining most days - except for the random patches of blue sky and warm sunshine that appear out of nowhere every hour or so, to be followed by a 20 minute torrential down pouring.  Temperatures at night are still in the 30’s and 40’s - part of the reason our cucumbers died off and our lettuce has been slow to develop.  One minute we’re zipping up our rain gear, the next minute we’re stripping down to t-shirts!  Oregon spring is really unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.  As the saying apparently goes: “Don’t like the weather in Oregon? Wait 5 minutes!”

The days are getting dirtier ...