One Woman Homestead Continues

Oh my, the pages have turned from days to weeks into over a month since I’ve posted. Been busy AND lazy on the One Woman Homestead (OWH).

The most exciting thing that’s happened on top of this mountain is the return of Mae, running like a little filly, and purring like a tomcat. When she pulled up, I didn’t know whether to kiss the mechanic or the truck. I kissed neither, but danced and whooped.

That to-do list from the May 5^th posting has dwindled, but of course, there’s another. I’ll not bore you but suffice it to say, there are things still from a year ago.

                                    There Are Things

2006 (so fitting in 2012)

There are things

Zippers hanging

Buttons missing

Things unseen in clear view

Weeds overgrown on fences

That must be tended

Fences, slacked and holed

Out of sight but not forgotten

Things that must be tended

Or they will explode

Rusted, crusted pennies

Between cushions

Bury us beneath the mass

Of enormous triviality

Suffocate the tiny

Cobwebs in the corner

There are things

However, there are accomplishments. I stood behind a massive tiller, rumbling in my weak-but-strong-now hands, and turned a weed and dirt yard into a flourishing garden. Watermelon, cantaloupe, pumpkin, corn, runner beans and bush beans, peas, radishes, mustard and turnips, lettuce, tomatoes, peppers-green, yellow, and hot, cucumbers, and okra, surrounded by marigolds. The herb garden isn’t all that I’d hoped but dill, basil, Japanese basil, chamomile, oregano, rosemary, garlic, and Echinacea is all aromatic and delicious.

The chickens are huge; alas, I’ve been informed they will not lay until 9 or 10 months. So be it, the coop is complete, with flower boxes and plaque. Nesting boxes built and mounted and ready whenever the little girls are. It’s difficult to name them since most look exactly alike, however the rooster is Foghorn, the two black girls are Dottie and Dottie Brown, I have a Tiny, and a Blacktail. That leaves four look-a-likes for the grandsons to figure out.

I decided to lay pine shavings on the floor of the coop to keep down the odor and the flies because the plastic bags of water hanging on the back porch are no match for coop-poop flies. Yuck! It makes the cleaning process a lot simpler also, just rake and scatter more shavings. The chickens scratch and turn it all into marvelous fertilizer.

In between the “mans” work, I managed to go strawberry and peach picking at Mercier Orchards. DEEE-licious. As you can see, jars of strawberry and peach preserves. Strawberries in the freezer waiting for the kids, and blueberries this weekend.

Busy also with planning for the Fannin County Democrats float in the Old Timer’s Parade on June 30th, social media and grant writing for Feed Fannin, political campaigns for Fannin County Post 1 Commissioner and the 9th District, GA US Congressional seat. Hope the kids are here for the parade. Lucky that Mae’s all refreshed because she may be pulling the float.

Finances still suck, altho there is 'stuff' on the horizon, but depression kind of slithers away when surrounded by mountain laurel, honeysuckle, lots of growing life, good new friends, and hopes to see some of the old. No complaining here down here on OWH. Least none in this post. 

Pennies in my Baggies

It’s been a few weeks from hell on the One-Woman Homestead (OWN), and to bad Oprah, I’m sticking with OWN. It is what it is!

I’m dizzy from the circles I’ve been going round. Several weeks trying to get the tiller running only to find that it’s too small for the job. Wasted weeks when I could have borrowed one and been done with the planting by now.

I have only half of the marigolds planted. More exasperation than anything.

I have the stone walk laid except ran out of stones, so it only goes half the distance I wanted.

Gas grill is cleaned though, and ready to be used as a charcoal grill since all the burners are missing. I even stained the wood side bars. Now, just need polyurethane to actually make it look like I did something.

Morning glories are planted and doing well. This is about the only accomplishment I feel can be acknowledged.

The chickens are happy free-ranging and have doubled in size, which only means I have to hurry to build the nesting boxes so I don’t lose any eggs – ‘coz they’re just about ready to lay.

It’s a constant battle with the fling critters – flies, gnats, little green something or others. I sprayed they entire outside with lavender and citrus. But in the evening, the cats and dog are jumping constantly trying to catch whatever. So now, I have baggies of water with pennies in them hanging from the rafters of the back porch. We’ll try there first to see if it really works.

Yeah, I could use a few pennies from heaven but if the flies stay away, I’ll be happy with my pennies in baggies. 

To-Do Updated

The to-do list has done me in.

However, remember that pile of wood in the backyard? Well, it’s moved to the fire-pit, ready for the grandboys and smores' campfires. 

I burned all scrap wood from the chicken coop and organized all remaining wood. As you can see below, the driveway area is cleared. Weed-eating is completed, and wildflowers planted.

That’s all folks.

Tomorrow, maybe I will till.

So, in six days, a list of 12 items is down to 9, which means it took me an entire week to complete three activities. At this rate, I ‘may’ be ready by next season.

 

• Switch summer/winter clothes (this isn’t really urgent since I didn’t put all the summer clothes away anyway)
• Organize crafts
• Till for morning glories
• Build garden boxes
• Till for garden boxes
• Clean gas grill
• Lay walk
• Plant marigolds
• Spread Diatemaceous Earth

Reminder still: Planters under front porch

Oh, and I’ve added one that I’d forgotten:

• Fence in chicken run

So, 9 is back up to ten. I'm sure if I really concentrated, I could make it even longer, but isn't Sunday supposed to be a day of rest?

The "To Do" List

I'd certainly love to have a "honey-do" list. One would imagine things getting done a lot quicker, however in my past experiences, that isn't necessarily the case. Consequently, I just have the standard "to do" list. 

The past few weeks have been physically and emotionally draining, what with the finances for a new truck engine and then building the chicken coop. When I screwed my finger yesterday, I decided to give it all a rest, mostly my body and mind. Nourish my soul a bit by just sitting on this porch on top of the mountain and appreciating. Start fresh next week, which just happens to be tomorrow. 

So here it is, in no particular order:

• switch summer/winter clothes
• organize crafts
• organize wood
• weed-eat
• till to plant morning glory plants
• rake for wildflower bed
• build garden boxes
• till for garden boxes
• clean gas grill
• lay walk
• plant marigolds in cement blocks
• spread Diatenaceous Earth

*Reminder to put empty planters under front porch - no storage shed

*Reminder to use to large tupperware totes as garden boxes

I'm sure there will be more as I sit here, but that's enough to start, don't you think? Check back often to see how it's going. 

You notice how there is nothing on this to-do list about writing. Sad, isn't it?

Listen When The Universe Speaks

It’s been nine days since the last entry when I’d put all the wall supports on the coop. Nine days of hammering, stapling, screwing, measuring, sawing, and hammering some more. This morning, eight chickens and Foghorn went into their new digs. Finally.

I have to secure the chicken wire where it overlaps, and some other cosmetics – folding over sharp wire edges, cutting off screws and nails that protrude, and then, of course, build the yard. I put the little feeder in the coop because I’d not finished the feed trough. Luckily, with all the nature to scratch around in, they have little interest in the feed. Which is a good thing. 

I’d decided to do nothing more strenuous today than make a pot of coffee, or open the deck chair. But, as so often happens, we (or I) fail to acknowledge our limits. I knew I was tired. I knew I was sore. Still, I wanted to complete my chores, particularly the feeder. After all, it only needed two sides attached. I should’ve heeded the first sign when the screw gun battery died, but no, have to be in control of everything. Charged up the battery and back at it.

I thought I learned long ago that whenever you force the issue, nothing goes right. Obviously not. All the screws went in crooked and had to be backed out. Wood splintered. But still, on I went when I should’ve stopped. Well, I’ve stopped now that I screwed my finger. Sliced a nice chunk right off the side.

Again, I had to be hit over the head to listen to the universe. Heed those signs when she speaks. She knows far better than us.

Chicken Coop Building Update

It may not look any different to some viewers, and when I detail what I've done, it may not sound like a lot. However, done here on the One Woman Homestead, it was a bit. Two more days, tops, by myself, and Foghorn, Dottie I and Dottie II, and the other girls will finally have their home.


Today, I measured, cut, and installed all supports for the sides, as well as installed one complete side. Four hours with 15 minute breaks on the hour, because, well, I'm 55 and just settling into my new found, labor intensive, health conscious life. I'd say, that's pretty damn good. 


Here's what it looked like before today - for comparison. Can you see the difference?? Please!

What else did I do all day? I bit of work, and a bit of writing: Early Morning Moments - AROS

By the end of 2012, I will be in good shape in more ways than one.

One Woman Farm Time Management

Down here on _____________ isn't really a farm but it's my small start-up homestead, and believe me, it needs time management far more than a corporate conference room. Especially when there's a creative process to think about also. 

Early mornings, back in the day, were for feeding animals, gathering eggs, tending the fields, repair chores, and doing any cooking/baking necessary for the day. Most often, those chores were designated women's and men's. Today, there's no such designation, especially if there's only one -woman. 

Early mornings are also prime creating time. Perfect to sit on the deck with a cup of hot java, listening to birdsong, watching the sun blink its way into the new day, smelling the fresh dew - all makes for crystalline poetry, imaginative fiction, and essays of plans and dreams. 

By the time nature's creativity has been devoured, breakfast, which has really become brunch, is over and cleaned, and the animals tended to, the heat of Grandfather Sun is high. Cooking, baking, and chores become misery. If reversed, as was yesterday, the exertion leaves little for the creative process. 

So it my dilemma. 

The breeze has cooled yet the Thunder gods are roaring. Maybe, it's time to pull out the old day timer and plot this homesteading process. There must be a way for a one woman farm. 

Another Day Has Begun

Another day has begun here on ______ . What’s your name suggestion for the homestead? Keep in mind that next year it will be in a different location within the North Georgia Mountains. I’d love to call it dk’s Green Acres, but that’s too easy.

Last year in March, I wrote 2011 Rambling Decisions. Unbeknownst at the time, the third scenario of moving to the mountains would be the decision. Here I am and the days roll on, getting busier and hotter, with more disasters and greater blessings daily.

Mae, the big 350, V8 (named after Mae West: “You only liveonce, but if you do it right, once is enough”) I bought for my journey from Chicago to here, sits on the gravel drive with a blown rod thanks to a mechanic with a shiny traveling shop but little knowledge. He replaced my leaking radiator with one fit for a Tonka truck. Thankfully, I found the excellent mechanic I’d met in June 2011 on that Pictureless on a Brakeless Day. He will tow Mae thirty miles, replace the engine with a used GM Goodwrench that has 33K miles, replace the radiator with one designed for a V8, and replace all the fluids for $1150, which makes his labor charge about $250. Huge blessing.

Out of ten hens and one rooster (Foghorn), I’ve only lost one. She’s in the freezer awaiting garden planting time where she will return to the earth and fertilize my veggies. Thanks to new friends, the chicken coop is just about done. It’s taken three weeks, but you can’t complain about free labor and even financial donations to the cause. The remainder belongs to me – sides, chicken wire, door, and fenced yard. I can do that. Probably though, not all on one day since the weather resembles mid-August instead of the first week of April. I cut the ½ acre lawn yesterday afternoon and reclined with a beer the rest of the day.

Sunday, the outside water faucet sprung a leak. I removed the knob to turn it off by the bolt. Unfortunately, the piping was all so very old, it broke off completely, spouting 3-4 gallons per minute of water into the temporary chicken yard, and the driveway. My neighbors and I tried to turn of the main line to the house, but not only was it sunk 3’ into the yard, it was surround by mud and slush. We managed to clear away enough to get to the line, but the valve broke off in our hands. There was nothing to do but shut off the well water to the whole top of the mountain. Finally, since my V8 was going nowhere, the owner came with a cap for the faucet. Yesterday, my front yard was a construction zone as the water main was replaced with new pipes, handle, and sleeve. It’s still 3’ underground, but attainable.

The moth caterpillars have hatched in the millions, figuratively. The Georgia gnats have never gone away, and while this picture may send shivers down some spines, it shows my constant battle, which at the moment, I seem to be winning. That could change. Cutting the grass loosed another million flying insects. Additional chore added to the list: making it snow in the mountains again – soon.

So given all that, the beauty, the strangeness, and the fact that this ‘spot’ is temporary, what say you to the name? Yes, it’s another day here on _______ .

That's One Dead Chick

Looks like I've lost one of the baby chicks. She was fine all day yesterday outside, fine when I brought her in last night, fine when I fed and watered this morning, but on her back with the others pecking at her when I brought them outside just now.


Her little heart is beating slow but one leg is twitching. I've looked on line and to be quite honest, I'm not going through force feeding her and putting a blanket over her, and holding/rocking her like a real baby. Call me heartless, but nature will take its course here. 

She was the runt of the litter and obviously lost the battle. Sorry and sad, but the other nine and the rooster are healthy, chirping, eating, perching, and fluttering about. If you order chicks online they tell you to be prepared for a certain percentage of loss, and even having purchased them two months old from the feed store, there is a possibility - it is part of life. 


After checking on line for disposal procedures, I found Backyard Chickens, and in their forum they confirmed my idea of burying it in the garden. I'd planned to plant my cabbages, beets, and peas next week, so I'll wrapped it in plastic, put it in the freezer, and recycle her. As it should be. 

First Day Outside

What I've found since I started planning this small, sustainable farm thing, is that you can talk to ten different people and get ten different answers. That recipe is for question-asking on any given topic. 

Chickens for instance, specifically, baby chicks. When we bought the babies at eight-weeks old one week ago, the employee at the feed store said, "No way. They ain't a'gonna be ready for no coop this weekend." Okay, the coop wasn't ready for them anyway, but he said I'd have to drop the temperature by five degrees a week until they were at the outside temp. They set up home in my office with a heat lamp. 

Sunday the heat lamp broke when I was switching them from the Tupperware tote to Mello's crate, and they didn't seem too upset. I left the overhead light on at night and sunshine through the closed windows during the day. I've not had the heat on for weeks now. The guy next door has his chickens hatch their own eggs and believe me, they are not in his house. Last time I went to look, they and the mama's were all shiny, plump, and very healthy. 

So, I decided that I'd take them into the sunshine and fresh air to clean the crate. Fresh water, fresh food, and they are happy little chirpers. I'm sure I'm doing it totally wrong, but hey, in all the Westerns I've watched - and I love Westerns - I've never seen chickens in the house, 'cept for maybe Green Acres. 

Of course, when my daughter was here last week she jokingly sang the first line of the Green Acres song and I finished it. 

A Day in the Life

This weekend - March 24 and 25, 2012 - has been fulfilling, enriching, nerve-racking, and aggravating. Hence, the blog post from earlier: The Brighter Side of Life. 

Mello and Lola within inches of each other. Neither growling, hissing, or barking. A beginning of harmony?


The chicken coop is really close. As you can see, just need to attach the sides, make the door, hang the chicken wire, and re-locate the chicks. 

Speaking of the chicks, it is brooder cleaning day. The brooder is in the office because I don't have a basement and it's still too cold to put them outside. After a week of almost 90, it is now only 60 degrees. Neither Mello or myself can handle the chick dust, regardless of how clean. I've just placed them in Mello's kennel while I clean the brooder (and yes, that is fresh water) and as I sit here, the dust from their little pecks and scratching is almost too much. Mello just sniffs the air and coughs. The brooder should be dry in a few minutes and back they go, then a good bleach cleaning for the kennel. Although, they seem to really like the extra room and air. I may keep them in the kennel, just make a bottom border so the pine shavings aren't all over the floor. We'll see. 

Among all the good and semi-good, I found the bird-feeder on the ground this morning. The twine used to hang it was cut, nice clean cut. Why anyone would do that, I don't know, but I have my suspicions. People. Soon though, maybe within the year, away, away from those snarky mammals. 

Another little tidbit: Mello and my shoe. He doesn't chew but obviously, likes it as a pillow. 

The Bright Side of Life

With $.50 in the bank and very little work, a sensitive, allergy-prone dog that needs neutering, cat food dwindling, Internet cable bill due, rent due, a toy-truck-radiator in my big 350 causing that 350 to be replaced at $900, situated atop an isolated Appalachian Mountains, this is what has been dancing round my brain all morning:

Because, my chicken coop is almost done, have 10 healthy chicks and when cocky rooster, picking up a free washer and dryer tomorrow, jobs coming my way, friends to lend a helping hand and bright smiles, kids who love, grandkids who are gorgeous, shining sun, glowing moon, waving trees and blooming flowers atop this isolated Appalachian Mountain. 


So yeah, I try to "always look on the bright side of life." 

Waiting On The Dogwood

Waiting on the Dogwoods

It’s been almost a month to the day that I’ve raved about something. It’s been even longer that I’ve truly written. Writing continue to evade me but the urges, the twinges, the inspirations are getting stronger and coming more often. I was all set up and kind of eager to get started on the front porch when I was interrupted for an hour or so chat with a neighbor. All the more reason to get deeper into the wilderness.

All in all, today was a scrumptious day.

 

Two weeks ago, Mello dog jumped and landed the wrong way, breaking a tiny bone in his leg. He was sedated and put in a splint. Last week, he was sedated again and the splint changed because he chewed the bottom. Last night, he removed the splint completely. Vet said he’s healing well and didn’t need to be re-splinted and off we went. Both happy as larks.

Spring garden fever has sprung. I’ve controlled myself and not put anything in the ground, but I couldn’t resist filling my pots. A cheery Bleeding Heart in one pot, and two Peonies, one red, one white, both with buds ready to burst. The ants are ravenous around both Peony pots. The daffodils continue to spread warmth and brightness every day, while the gladioli bloomed and died.

I’m still however, waiting on the Dogwood. Once those white and pink buds pop though, my yard will be bursting with color, above and below. Who could not be inspired with that? We’ll see. 

Confidential Interview

Eight months ago—on the road with the wind in my hair, seeing new places, meeting new people, making new memories, building a new life—everything fell perfectly into place. The first few months were exciting with possibilities and plans. Imagine my dismay when in the fourth month, I found Donna lurking about, waiting patiently in the shadows. In my mountain retirement where I was to finish that novel and finally compile that poetry manuscript, there she was, distracting as ever, eating brownies and watching westerns.

There were reasons, she said. The less expensive location proved expensive to establish. The serene mountain was in the middle of the North Georgia ‘hood’, which shouldn’t be a problem for a metro Chicago girl, however mountain hoods are quite a different scene, as my dear Donna was quick to point out. The mountain wilderness has its own set of rules.

The like-minded and supportive people I’d originally met were 15-20 miles away, and those close whom I chose to trust were untrustworthy. Winters' early gray months saw panic attacks, and doubts. As usually happens, time moves along and with that passage the realization that things are never, ever the way they seem. Those who betrayed have severe issues of their own. The ‘hood,’ as is often the case, is home to some good people. As the dreariness lifted, daylight lengthened, and the Donnas have conspired again to live the dream.

 

I’ve made bagels, gorgeous, dense loaves of white bread, a delicious loaf of herbed artisan bread, and just yesterday, two golden loaves of honey oat bread. Three quarts of applesauce, and three pints of apple jelly from the peelings and cores. 


Since I made the decision to stay at this location for a year to get all finances balanced, I began to dig the herb garden, and ordered seed catalogs. The daylilies and tulips are popping, and my Mello dog takes me on exhilarating daily mountain walks where we’ve met even more good people in the hood.  

And, I write!

Confidential Interview

Almost an illusion,

those tiny blue flutters

         in the brown grass.

After the lift of morning fog

           amber criss-crosses the earth

to dry the nights weeping.

Cats crouch and shimmy behind the window,

yet visions of the glorious hunt 

soon blur,

ransacked by the reality 

of domestication.

So begins the day’s confidential interview with its customers.

Will you trade, sell, discard these copious charms for empty promises?

Daily Meditations - January 24, 2012

Great Early Morning Smoke of my Backyard!

Great Smoking Mirror - Reflections

Through the smoke
  I see looking back
    Another reflection of me.
Mirror of my inner-self
  Who are you
    If I am me?
Mirror of my outer-self
  What do others see?
Is it the truth in my heart
  Or human vanity? 
          *Sacred Path Cards
          **What needs to be done




Moose - Self-Esteem
Moose...   Help me to honor the gifts I can give,
    And recognize my worthiness long as I live.
          *Medicine Cards           
          **How to do it

Meditation Points - January 22, 2012

Storyteller - Expansion: 
Sing to me, oh Ancient Ones,
  Of the history of our race.
That I may see in my mind,
  The love in every face.
And every spirit that came before,
  The Medicine that they made,
The Sacred Tradition they passed to me
  So the memory will not fade.
Oh, Storyteller, be my bridge
  To those other times.
So I may walk in Beauty with
  The ancient rhythm and rhyme. 
                   *Sacred Path Cards
                   *This is what needs to be done.
To feed my personal Fire of Creation. To remember my personal Medicine and how to BE my potential.


Bear - Introspection:
Bear...
  Invite me
    Into the cave
      Where silence surrounds
The answers you gave.
                   *Medicine Cards
                   *This is how to do what must be done.
Enter the silence and become acquainted with the Dream Lodge, so that my goals may become concrete realities. 


**Medicine and Sacred Path Tarot Readings available. Email.

2011

What would I have done differently? This is a question that’s plagued me for years, and that is exactly why it’s so difficult to answer. I should have done numerous things differently throughout my fifty-five years on this planet. Very few, however, would I actually choose to do differently, because then I would be another Donna Kiser than I am today.

Considering only the past twelve months though is not only easier, but also necessary in measuring goal-setting outcomes to adjust going forward. So here goes:

1. More research on teaching overseas before spending $1200 on certification
2. Curb the acting-on-emotion, but don’t lose spontaneity
1. Leaving Wisconsin before summer housing was confirmed
2. Falling in love with a location because of scenery, and moving w/o research
3. Trusting too quickly (this is an ongoing, perpetual issue for me)
3. More activity, less sitting
4. More writing, less work
5. Promote self more (another biggie for me)
6. Worrying about what others think

I think that’s plenty for the page, there’s tons more running circles in my head. At least I’ve have the groundwork for 2012's action plan, except for #1. Not much I can do now about #1 but I can remind myself to research a LOT before making decisions—kinda goes with #2. 

The Barter System Today

Bartering is an exchange of goods or services without a monetary exchange, and has been around for centuries.  Although it went out of fashion for a time with the rise of capitalism, it has always been around among folks who understand the value of each other’s talents. While bartering has made a substantial comeback in these trying economic times, some don’t understand the concept, and literally abuse it.

I recently acquired a puppy from a local dog boarding and training facility. His shots were included in the acquisition, so I went back frequently.

Mello (my dog) and I came along nicely with training but I thought professional training would make us both better. I noticed the severely disjointed website of the boarder’s. I offered a complete re-design in exchange for the $1200 training package. There wasn’t much of a response and even when asked if he thought it wasn’t an equitable trade, he said he was just busy.

Well, as the months went on, along with the acquisition of Mello was a flea infestation. Off we go to the boarder who does a couple flea treatments on Mello and both cats accompanied by flea, heart, and worm pills. Additionally, Mello needed another worm treatment. Again, I asked about the exchange. For the $141.00 in checks, I would organize all photos on his server, which amounted to hundreds. I would verify they weren’t on the site and then organize them in an “old photo” file in any method he chose. No response.

Days later, I get a voice mail saying that he had some web work, to come by so we could talk and “bring the dog.” Turns out he just self-published a poetry book and wanted me to do promotions. Trying to nail him down on exactly where he wanted to start was difficult, but I managed a list of three items:

• Facebook account
• Author/book website
• Compile list of reviewers

He wanted to talk about training as exchange but I suggested the $141.00 in checks and he agreed. That was on December 12, 2011. I’ve still not received the domain name to start the site building. He obviously thought he could do it himself and his boarding site was down for a day. I’ve received no less than five emails and fifteen phone calls, even late night, rambling about this book and its promotion. Computer literacy is not at the top of his list and that’s ok, then let someone else do it and don’t confuse the situation.

What it boils down to is that he’s almost used the $141.00 in time without getting a tangible outcome. Facebook account, book reviews, sharing, posting and answering his incoherent phone calls. Absolutely no idea of the barter concept. We each do what we do in ‘equal’ amounts. Looks like I’m going to have to tell him that I’m not his personal marketing person and I’m definitely not on call. I don’t even want his dog training anymore. 

All Hail Poison

That is quite the title, isn't it? 


Two cats and dog resting peacefully. Traumatized and terrorized from scratching, biting, and tearing through the house trying desperately to get away from the maddening skin crawl, then spending  the night in a kennel, are now stretched across my legs, beneath my chair, and curled tightly under the comforter - NO scratching, NO biting, NO running wild. 


So yes, after 3 months of torture through all natural, unsuccessful alternatives, ALL HAIL POISON!
dk

December Spring Cleaning Ya'll

Last entry was all about fleas and my battle to make life easier for my beloved animals. You’ll be happy to know that this entry is all about—fleas, and my continued, constant battle.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am all about natural remedies, especially if they work. At this point though…

Let me give you a little timeline:

August: Arrived Georgia home with two cats, traumatized but well

23 September: Acquired dog—Mello

1st week October: Fleas arrived Georgia home

2^nd week October: Flea collar for Mello

2^nd week October: Spot-On treatment for cats & dog

4^th week October: Capstar pill for all, flea dip and comb for all, thorough house cleaning and laundry

It was at this point that I couldn’t justify more chemicals.

1^st week November: Lemon, lavender, tea tree oil wash for all, thorough house cleaning and laundry

2^nd week November: 50lb diatomaceous earth spread over entire yard, lemon, lavender, tea tree oil wash for all, flea combing for all, thorough house cleaning and laundry

3^rd week November: diatomaceous earth rubbed into armchair, dining room chairs, coats of animals, oatmeal shampoo bath for all with lemon, lavender & tea tree oil rinse, flea combing daily, thorough house cleaning and laundry

4^th week November:  Grated garlic in pet water, oatmeal shampoo bath for all with lemon, lavender & tea tree oil rinse, flea combing daily, thorough house cleaning and laundry

1^st week December: Garlic & Brewers yeast in pet food, oatmeal shampoo bath for all with lemon, lavender & tea tree oil rinse, flea combing—one hour per animal, thorough house cleaning, spread diatomaceous earth around base of exterior & sweep into baseboards, remove every piece of fabric in house, Spot-On treatment for each animal, remove all from house, flea bomb house, launder everything, wash every surface, sweep & mop. All animals content without a moment of scratching.

There you have it. There should not be a solitary flea left anywhere, right?

My house is bright and shiny, every piece of fabric clean and fresh, the animals sufficiently traumatized.

Six hours after Spot-On Treatment, they are scratching again with fleas visible.