Neurotic Dogs, Farmer's Market Economics and More Chickens

I feel pretty hammered, but it's a good hammered.

Finally decided my ear isn't going to get much better by sitting around, so I biked 5.5 miles down to the general store and ran 5.25. Lisa came along and biked while I ran; I picked up the bike about a mile away from the general store and rode in. Went swimming, but some tourist folks who clearly didn't give any thought to birth control had their passel with them, so I only swam a quarter-mile. Probably a good thing -- I used ear plugs instead of a nose clip, which seemed to help. We'll see.

Spent the last couple of days puttering around farmer's markets in the lower Valley. The first one, in Bellows Falls, was pretty good for atmosphere, but on the small side -- maybe 15 vendors, tops. The second one, in Brattleboro, looks more like a food court for locals. There are about 50 vendors, and they sell everything.

Except eggs and bread.

Can you say "market niche?"

Got online this afternoon and ordered 30 more aruacanas. They lay green, pink and blue eggs, so they're pretty easy to sell. Also am mulling a wholesale deal with a local pork producer. And, of course, some gluten-free bread recipes.

If my math is correct, and there's not some sort of mass chicken die-off by spring, we could probably push out 20 dozen eggs per week. Plus a couple of dozen loaves of bread. Plus some of Lisa's yarn. Plus some pork product to go with the eggs. Plus some ... oh, hell, I don't know. Whatever tourists buy that isn't maple syrup.

Anyway, we'd have about 50 arucanas and 25 New Hampshire reds, plus the eight ducks and two turkeys (assuming the ones that the old hen and turkey are sitting on don't hatch). A pretty average week would probably yield about $300 in sales. Which I could use.

I'm also thinking about collie tamales. Pepper is driving me nuts. She's a border collie, so she's obsessive-compulsive to begin with, but it seems to be getting worse. I can't sit out on the front porch without her making a nuisance of herself, trying to get me to throw her anything ranging from a rock to an old sock. Sigh. At least Stink just sits out in front of the chicken pen and tries to figure out how many peeps he could fit in his mouth at once.

Yikes. I seem to be attracting baby cardinals to the porch. Two of them are munching on sunflower seeds.

Been spending some time kicking around the Long Trail itinerary. It's probably best not to have an itinerary, but I'm going to need to ship two and maybe three boxes ahead with food for pickup. The post offices along the trail are supposed to be very good at holding things "general delivery" for through-hikers. I'm estimating the whole hike will take 10-12 days, with a drop box spaced every three days. So far, John shows no signs of backing down from a 273-mile hike.

A commercial break for my child: Can you imagine being 15 years old and wanting to hike 273 miles? With your father?

The garden is coming along, although the corn is still kind of stunted. The cucumbers and potatoes are going great guns, though. The beans aren't doing so badly, but the tomatoes, eh.

The New Hampshire triathlon is next week, so I'm trying to psych myself up for that. If my ear doesn't feel any better, I'll have it amputated. Or something. Hoping it'll warm up a bit. It's been in the low 60s all day; a bit chilly to be splashing about in a lake.

Last note: We're bracing for the Attack of the Mutant Obnoxious Tourists this week. Be afraid. Be very, very afraid.