Ready or Knot. . .

The in-home foster care interview is tomorrow. Most of the bachelor influence from the 2 former, temporary live-in employees has been removed and the house is looking as near to a family residence as this hundred year old shack is going to look here in the 21st century. The housing upgrade is officially on the drawing board with enough physical evidence to prove that we really mean it. Alas, the best case scenario puts the upgrade into October before move-in will be possible. I have been living in this shack for most of the 3 years since Hubby and his brother inherited it in 2016. None of the Spa Crowd will be impressed, but I feel confident we will be able to manage a few months with the added chaos of 3 physically young children. We have court orders to help insulate against the middle aged child chaos and the comfort of physical distance from their *perfection*. The distance isnae so great as the physical distance I maintain from my birth family, but a 3 hour drive one way is allot for a middle aged child who cannae even pay for their own meals, much less keep up with vehicle maintenance.

My gut knots arenae so fierce this morning. I feel as ready as I ever will be for this NFF deal. I feel confident that Hubs and I are harmonizing from the same sheet of music. We have plans to spend today and Sunday morning fine tuning our harmonies before the interview Sunday afternoon. If I understand the ifs of the case, the custody proceedings could move very fast after the interview. The local school year starts Wednesday and big brother has fellow 1st graders to meet and greet. Prayers in progress that we will be able to get him there with confidence and a positive attitude. Just praying. . .

On a calmer front, my 65th birthday is next week. I'm giving myself a Heritage Turkey flock for my birthday. 20 is the minimum order for the hatchery I ordered the poults from, so I bet you can guess how big the flock will start out as. Brooding feather babies isnae a small feat, so it seems unlikely that all 20 will make it to adulthood, but I have laid in preparations with the experience gleaned from brooding baby chickens. We see how much I have learned.

Aside from the thing pile in the unclaimed room of the Honey Barn, the last vestige of bachelor influence on the farm is the Man Cave the Farm Handy installed inside the projected brood den. He was only here for a few weeks, but his Man Cave is already cluttered, disorganized and thick with dust from the dirt floor of the barn and the summer dust blowing in through the open south wall of the barn. For now, I believe the poults will be okay in the warm summer nights of drought season, but it would be nice if the added protection of the brood den was available for them. Do I have the stomach to clean up after yet another middle aged child? We see how the days go. For now, it isnae high on the worry list, but it would be nice to have the brooding options free of the middle aged child blockage.