Farm Life Chaos

The first indication of a problem was a frantic call to my husband. We were returning from vacation in Ireland and were trying to relax for one day before returning to the chaos of the farm. I had yet to understand why everything surrounding the farm was chaotic, but it was.

I grew up on a farm. I remember hard work followed by hot days of boredom with no air conditioning. The routine was broken only by Saturday trips to the library. We have hot days in Türkiye without air conditioning, but there's no boredom. There’s too much happening at one time.

For two months, our farm has been as busy as Grand Central Station. Constant visitors, construction workers, fence builders, electricians, plumbers, landscapers—you name it—were all at our house. Yet I’ve been around construction sites with five different renovations, and while they can be chaotic, even a disaster like the one in Miami, this felt different. But I could not put my finger on exactly why.

It all came to a head with that one phone call.

“I didn’t know that many curse words existed in Turkish,” my husband says, mystified as he looks at his phone. I hear gunshots coming through the tiny speaker as he holds it away from his ear.

“What’s happening?” I am now alarmed at the shouting and gunfire coming from his phone.

I’m several feet away, and the phone is not on speaker. Gunfire is not uncommon where we live. Guns are a part of life here and are used to scare big things—bears, boars, a pack of wolves, or jackals. They are even for celebrations, such as the gunfire before the wedding ceremony in the surrounding villages. It’s not like America. They aren’t used against people. There is no “stand your ground” law here. If you even injure someone by using a gun, you will see prison time.

“He’s shooting at the falcons.”

“Why?” I had seen only a few falcons in the past month and nothing that needed shooting. One of the most beautiful birds in our area is a gigantic eagle. I hoped it was far away.

“He let the chickens and geese out of their houses together, even though I told him not to. They needed to acclimate first and get to know their new houses, and we needed to prepare for the birds, particularly the falcons before they were let free. Now both geese and chickens are being hunted, and he doesn’t know what to do.”

“Why doesn’t he just put them back in their coops?” I asked, picturing the scattering birds. But I needed to stay out of all the operational decisions. This isn’t my rodeo—it’s his. He shrugs at me as he listens to the guy on the other side of the phone.

By the time we arrived home the next day, there were no geese to be found, and the dogs were missing. I could hear faint noises in the forest that faded over time and the dogs barking in the distance. The chickens were huddled in a lump inside their coop, terrified at the slightest sound. Halfway between the coop and the house was a pile of spent red shotgun shells.

According to the story, the geese flew once the shooting began, never to return. The dogs eventually escaped back to the village over the hill, away from the gun, the noise, and the terror.

It is now several days later. The chickens are happy again (we got our first egg!) and joyful at the big bucket of herbs and other things I save for them daily. The mornings have been peaceful. The dogs are back, happy to see my husband doing their required barking and sleeping, and the visitors are down to a manageable level.

Just like that, there’s no more chaos.

Several days later, when we had our morning coffee together, I told my husband how terrible I felt for the poor geese.

“There weren’t any geese,” he said.

I waited for the details. When they weren’t forthcoming, I pressed him further.

“What are you talking about? Do you mean they are all definitely dead?” We are from two different countries and two very distinct cultures. Even after thirty years of marriage, we often don’t communicate well.

“No, what I said. There were no geese. He never bought them.”

The guy helping us with the farm? Without getting into all the details of things raised due to the geese incident, rest assured, he’s toast.