I really wasn’t sure what to expect from my first day as an intern with Lazy B Farm, so I wore jeans and boots and brought my notebook and pen along too, just in case. I was greeted by half of the children on the farm, and had a lovely conversation with them while we waited for Cyndi to finish up a little household stuff before we headed outside.
First, we fed the animals. Chickens, guineas, cows, dogs and goats. We gathered a few eggs from the henhouse and then we did some gardening. I have a small plot of a garden in our backyard, but it’s never produced more than a few very tart tomatoes, so one thing I am really hoping to learn more about this year is gardening. The UGA Cooperative Extension (just like most Cooperative Extension offices throughout the US) does a Master Gardener class every year, on Tuesdays. It just so happens that this mama, with two days off, filled them up so quickly I was shocked at all the great opportunities I have had to turn down. So instead of gardening, UGA is teaching me to compost. Maybe when we get to PA I can take a more intensive gardening course. Until then, I have Cyndi.
So, anyway, we weeded a bed that was previously home to tomatoes and is currently home to the most delicious-smelling Dill you’ve ever smelled. It was slow-going, carefully pulling handful after handful of Henbit from around the dill, but the smell made it worth it. (Made me hungry too, but that’s another story.) It turns out the chickens and goats really love to eat the stuff, so we filled our buckets and tossed it over the fences, making a couple beasts very, very happy.
After the gardening we headed back to the henhouse. Cyndi had to move some hay, so she instructed me to “gather the eggs, clean out the boxes and then put in some new shavings.” Confession: My first day on a new job is all about figuring out the boss. Does she prefer 100 questions or would she rather I give it a go and ask questions later? So, I chose B, and with the aid of Cyndi’s youngest, proceeded to to about half of what Cyndi expected from me. Luckily, Cyndi was just a quick phone call away, “So, you want me to clean all the chicken boxes?” “Uh, ya, all of them.” So I got back in there, and cleaned out the rest of the boxes. And I added clean shavings to all of them (just to have the silly birds come in and scratch and kick and knock about 50% of it on the floor. Thanks, ladies). Cyndi checked on me, began putting away her tools, and headed for the house, leaving me to finish in the henhouse. When I was finished I went to let myself out of the chicken house and found the door LOCKED. Yes, locked. I thought, okay, you’re an adult, you can figure this out. Is it really locked? Not just stuck? No, it was really locked. Is there an indoor lock I missed? No, it’s a slider bar lock like in a public restroom, on the outside. Hmmm…. I knew Cyndi and the girls were all inside, so yelling probably wouldn’t help. I looked behind me at the door the chickens use to get in and out and seriously wonderered if I could make it through. I called Cyndi’s cell only to get her voicemail. So, I was forced to make my exit through the tiny door the chickens use. But I made it, and walked across the yard to the fence/gate and let myself out. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if it was a farm-hazing-style prank. I’m still not 100% convinced it was an accident, but, oh well. I’m out, the ladies gave me some yummy lunch, and all is well. More next time!