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A little about me ...

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"Simple living, sensible choices. It is not about living in poverty or self-inflicted deprivation. Rather, it is about living an examined life--one in which you have determined what is important, or enough, for you, discarding the rest."

-- author unknown

My name is Karen, aka CayceQuilter. I am a transplanted city girl who has always had a very country heart. I moved to rural MS from California, and they couldn't pay me to go back. (Sorry, Californians.) I eventually met and married an honest-to-God country boy who still calls his pants "britches" and has never been more than 100 miles away from home. We have 3 children, Jason (27) and E. Dawson (24) who live up north, plus Jesse who is 10. And we are grandparents to Jason's children, Kailee and Sarra Lilien.

When I moved into this little bit of heaven 15 years ago, I was so excited. I read every issue of Backwoods Magazine and Countryside Stock Journal, and anything else I could get my hands on. I eagerly visited the local extension office, but they were not very helpful. I left with a pile of flyers and the advice that "there really isn't anything you can do to make money at home." Honestly. That is what the extension agent told me. Good thing I didn't listen to him.

My home came with 2 dogs that had been born and raised here. The trouble was they chased and killed every living thing, except people. When I brought home my first chickens one got out as I was taking the cage out of the car and the dogs killed it in 2 seconds. Well, I had gotten bantams because I was told they'd not let a dog catch them. Ha! After a week I let the other 2 out and they didn't last 5 mintues before the dogs killed them both, even with me screaming and hollering and throwing things at the dogs. Well, I can't blame the dogs, it's just their nature, but I cried anyway.

Undaunted (well, only slightly daunted), I found someone selling baby pigs and went to bring some home. Getting the little guys home was an adventure in itself. I had an ancient pickup truck and I showed up at the farm, in the rain, all ready to put the pigs in the back the way the dogs ride. The farmer laughed his head off and said I could use this nasty, dirty, tiny wooden dog house to get them home. He wrestled it, all muddy and filthy, onto the truck. I tried to help without touching anything dirty. The farmer, laughing again, squeezed the pigs inside since I was afraid of them. I felt so bad because they were squashed and couldn't move, so I raced home as fast as I could. Then the real fun began.

I put the pigs in their small pasture and gave them lots of food and water. But as soon as I turned around there went the little pigs trotting through the trees and the dogs in hot pursuit. I tied up the dogs temporarily while we checked the fence. I put in a few stakes and put the pigs, who I had named Tupelo and Cayce, into the pen again. As soon as I turned around they were out again. We played this little game for 2 days. I felt too awful keeping the dogs tied up and I was frustrated that the pigs wouldn't stay in, so I finally called the farmer and he came to take them home. At least he gave me half my money back. Guess you could say I just rented the pigs.

There's been a lot of water under the bridge since those early days. Now I have herb gardens, flower gardens, rose gardens, the beginnings of an orchard, and also, on and off, vegetable gardens. I had chickens for a few years in between also, but working full time in Memphis didn't leave me time to take care of them as well as I would have liked. But now that I'm semi-retired, we're up to 18 hens and 3 roosters. We also are making preparations for 2 goats we hope to have by the end of the year.

You can read more about me and my tiny farm in: The Chickensense Blog