Rosebank Farms

Last Saturday we took a trip to Rosebank Farms on Johns Island for their Egg'straordinary Egg'stravaganza (heh). They advertised a hay ride, an egg hunt, an appearance by the Easter Bunny, and the regular farm staples--ducks, pigs, cow, horse (miniature!), turkeys, chickens and naturally--bunnies. There were also supposed to be refreshments available and, best of all, kids three and under were FREE! Woo hoo!

As is often the case if we don't start getting ready to leave at least 4 and a half hours before we need to, we were late. We had missed the hay ride. And the egg hunt. And the Big Bunny. Well, we sort of missed him.

And yet, the half-full glass nearly reached the brim by the time our visit was through. Here are some of the highlights:

Chasing bunnies all over the farm.



Getting beautiful fresh flowers for our Easter dinner hosts. (Thanks, Millers!)


Receiving jelly beans from the farm worker who felt sorry for the boys with the empty Easter baskets.


Giving hugs to the severed head of the Easter bunny who was abandoned among the asparagus, green beans, and parsley in the farm market. (We had already met the bottom half of EB near the refreshments table.)


The best part of all, naturally, was how the farmer (the half-dressed EB, himself) let Ben and Will drive the tractor. Well, not actually drive it, but they got to pretend like they were. And this tractor made those lawn mowing tractors at Lowe's look pretty weenie, I might add.

So, all in all, our Easter egg cup truly runneth-ed over.
Thanks, Rosebank Farms! bawk bawk.

Think Capistrano!

For the past several weeks there has been a bird who arrives every morning around 7 and attempts to fly through our windows. You can hear his beak hit the panes throughout the house as he tap tap taps while flapping fruitlessly until his feet gain purchase either on the sill or the screen. He is persistent and not completely clueless, as he will try one window than another. The boys love running around the house from room to room following the bird. "He's back!" "He's in the kitchen!" "He's at the front door!" Great early morning entertainment.

We've mused on why the bird is so persevering. Does he really find our home that inviting? Does he know we keep millet and sunflower seeds in the pantry? Did he once nest in a tree where our house is now standing? Perhaps it's one of those inborn, imprinting things that is somehow programmed into his tiny prehistoric brain--"I must return to 33 latitude, -80 longitude!" Sort of like the swallows of Capistrano , which, funnily enough, are due to return
tomorrow--St.Joseph's Day.

I know very little about the phenomenon, but was reminded by, of all things, Grover from Sesame Street. The Elmo's World portion of the show was devoted to penguins. Grover had traveled to the South Pole and was trying to encourage the penguins to fly somewhere warm. He was stymied when the penguins told him they could not fly. "Well, try! You need to flap your little birdie wings, like this!" While he and the birds are madly flapping away he shouts out encouragingly, "Think Capistrano!", which the penguins join him in chanting before realizing it's hopeless and they dive into the ocean for a swim.

Man, I love the Muppets.

Mark thinks I ought to post video of our feathered friend, but for now all I have are these stills.
We may have to build him a bird house.

Goodbye Snow, Hello Strawberries!

I could have titled this "Why I love the South."
You saw my last post, yes? All that snow and coldness and hats and mittens and boots? Well, not here in South Cackalackee, no sir. On this fine March afternoon, it was strawberry picking time. With giant, juicy all natural (no pesticides or other icky chemicals on these guys) berries! See?
The boys were pretty impressed with the rows and rows of strawberry plants. We had one plant in our garden last year that gave a pretty good yield, so they knew what to look for (not the green ones!) and that you have to look under the leaves sometimes.
Will found the task of bending over to pick the berries far too much trouble. He preferred to sit himself down in the middle of a row and grab what he could from that position. Ben couldn't resist tasting a few while filling his bucket, and in the end, neither could Will.
Ella Rose chose to sleep through this adventure, but woke up as we enjoyed our bounty in the car.


How lucky are we to have access to local, (almost) organic produce that we harvest ourselves??? The children get to see where our food comes from, and although we didn't get to meet the farmer, they have at least an idea that there is one. And at $1.50 a pound, a fantastic bargain, no less! Ambrose Farms will definitely be seeing us again.
But not until we finish off our 10 pounds of strawberries. eeep.