A personal need has come up to go off line for awhile. I appreciate every one of you, and your support and dedication to my blog.
Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart. I hope to be back soon.
Keep chasing butterflies.
~Becky
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
The power of the people
I am so blessed to have so many people who care about me, and want to be apart of my farm dream.
I've had several visitors to my farm in the last month, and I love seeing the joy on their face, when they see what I am fortunate to see every day.
My nephew Tyler (Bubba) who is about 20 months old, came out with his Daddy, James to see the "new" barn and the goats. He didn't know what to think at first... he had just been to the game farm the previous day, and was getting pretty good with his animal names. At first, he called the goats "sheep". And when we told him "goat", he called them "sheepdoats". So freaking cute... So he pet the sheepdoats, and followed them around outside for a little bit. When we walked around the barn to see the chickens, he saw my John Deere riding lawn mower and called it a "tractor". Smart boy. He sat up in the seat for a few minutes with his hands on the wheel, and said "Drive tractor." I asked him if he wanted to go get eggs with me, and he nodded his head, so I helped him down. We went into the barn, and he let me pick up when we went in the coop. After I showed him how, Bubba grabbed the eggs out of the nesting boxes and put them in the carton. And then Wynnona decided to jump up on my arm, like a parrot, and scared him. So he cried and I let James collect the rest of the eggs. When they left I tried to get a kiss goodbye from Tyler...and I won't lie, I had to bribe him with a ride on the tractor next time he comes...but I got my kiss. :)
Another day, my friend Mike (the barn straightener) came back to visit with his daughter AB and wife Cheryl. I showed them all of the remodeling I'd had done to the barn, and all of the antiques I had just hung in it from my favorite antique store. They too fell in love with my new kids. AB, who is almost 6 had tons of intellectual questions about the goats. What they liked to eat, where they slept, etc. She then let me know that she set up a "food test" for them. She placed a piece of straw, a blade of grass, and a piece of wheat just outside of their pen. She asked me to let her know what they ate first. They also brought me two tomato plants...so I can say I have a garden this year! ;)
My good friend Karen and her husband Tim road their Harleys out one day to see the babies, and now that the goats are here, my neighbors Bruce and Chris are frequent visitors.
This past weekend was a pretty incredible one for me. I had a "fence post" party, and about ten guys from my crew at work, came out and helped me put in 50 fence posts for the future goat pen and garden. My neighbor Bruce dug out about half of the holes with his 1951 tractor, (until it broke down.) And then my guys dug the rest of the holes by hand. I learned quite a bit! We set corner 4x6 posts, and ran string between them so we'd have a straight fence line. Then the strapping young bucks started digging. They dug over about 30 holes about 2 feet deep, put in 53 posts and used 57 bags of concrete in 8 hours. I had Famous Dave's bring us lunch, and provided the beer and drinks. It was truly amazing for so many people to come out and give me a hand with my dream. Every day it is starting to look more and more like I picture it in my head, and it is such an overwhelming rush. Thank you again to Bruce, Larry, Mike, Keyan, Arnie, Chris, Hodge, Ian, and Teddy for lending a hand. There is no way I could have done it without you...
We are already talking about the "Fence stretching" party...this one we'll light up the fire pit to celebrate.
I've had several visitors to my farm in the last month, and I love seeing the joy on their face, when they see what I am fortunate to see every day.
My nephew Tyler (Bubba) who is about 20 months old, came out with his Daddy, James to see the "new" barn and the goats. He didn't know what to think at first... he had just been to the game farm the previous day, and was getting pretty good with his animal names. At first, he called the goats "sheep". And when we told him "goat", he called them "sheepdoats". So freaking cute... So he pet the sheepdoats, and followed them around outside for a little bit. When we walked around the barn to see the chickens, he saw my John Deere riding lawn mower and called it a "tractor". Smart boy. He sat up in the seat for a few minutes with his hands on the wheel, and said "Drive tractor." I asked him if he wanted to go get eggs with me, and he nodded his head, so I helped him down. We went into the barn, and he let me pick up when we went in the coop. After I showed him how, Bubba grabbed the eggs out of the nesting boxes and put them in the carton. And then Wynnona decided to jump up on my arm, like a parrot, and scared him. So he cried and I let James collect the rest of the eggs. When they left I tried to get a kiss goodbye from Tyler...and I won't lie, I had to bribe him with a ride on the tractor next time he comes...but I got my kiss. :)
Another day, my friend Mike (the barn straightener) came back to visit with his daughter AB and wife Cheryl. I showed them all of the remodeling I'd had done to the barn, and all of the antiques I had just hung in it from my favorite antique store. They too fell in love with my new kids. AB, who is almost 6 had tons of intellectual questions about the goats. What they liked to eat, where they slept, etc. She then let me know that she set up a "food test" for them. She placed a piece of straw, a blade of grass, and a piece of wheat just outside of their pen. She asked me to let her know what they ate first. They also brought me two tomato plants...so I can say I have a garden this year! ;)
My good friend Karen and her husband Tim road their Harleys out one day to see the babies, and now that the goats are here, my neighbors Bruce and Chris are frequent visitors.
This past weekend was a pretty incredible one for me. I had a "fence post" party, and about ten guys from my crew at work, came out and helped me put in 50 fence posts for the future goat pen and garden. My neighbor Bruce dug out about half of the holes with his 1951 tractor, (until it broke down.) And then my guys dug the rest of the holes by hand. I learned quite a bit! We set corner 4x6 posts, and ran string between them so we'd have a straight fence line. Then the strapping young bucks started digging. They dug over about 30 holes about 2 feet deep, put in 53 posts and used 57 bags of concrete in 8 hours. I had Famous Dave's bring us lunch, and provided the beer and drinks. It was truly amazing for so many people to come out and give me a hand with my dream. Every day it is starting to look more and more like I picture it in my head, and it is such an overwhelming rush. Thank you again to Bruce, Larry, Mike, Keyan, Arnie, Chris, Hodge, Ian, and Teddy for lending a hand. There is no way I could have done it without you...
We are already talking about the "Fence stretching" party...this one we'll light up the fire pit to celebrate.
Little Goat Field Trips
Well, for the first two weeks the goats were home, I kept them in their stall in the barn so they could get used to me, and know who mom was and where home was. After that we went on our first little goat field trip. I opened their gate and walked out toward the pasture. They were a little timid, but they followed me...like ducks in a row out toward the fire pit. When I got to the middle of the field, they all stood around my legs...not at all exploring. So I walked a little more, and they got back in line, but as soon as I stopped, they again gathered around my feet. I couldn't help but wonder if I could get them to walk in formation, like the Blue Angels...but just a little different. I was a little disappointed that no one was trying out the field grass. It was quite long, (about to my knees) and I expected them to start putting a dent in their new found shmorgazboard. Not so much...
Lucy picked up a pinecone in her mouth and carried it for a few seconds. Then a little stick like she was a dog. I couldn't help but sigh. As their mama did I need to get down on my hands and knees and show them what they should be doing?? I picked a blade of grass, and tried giving it to Apollo. He looked at me. "BAA!" Ok...grass sucks...I get it..how bout some clover? "BAA!" When he opened his mouth, the clover stuck to his lip, and then it fell, and he looked down at it....nothing. So I continued on our field trip, up the hill and around the big tree...After that they ran back into the barn. I guessed the field trip was over...and was glad they recognized where home was.
On the second field trip, we took the same path out toward the firepit. The goats stayed close behind me because they couldn't see over the grass. Once we got to the firepit, they got a little braver, but didn't stray more than a foot or two away from me. Still, no grass eating. Lucy, must have realized she had legs, because she bolted full speed to the barn, like a little deer. When I called her to come back she rounded the truck and came flying back ears flying out at the sides. It was, honest to God, one of the cutest things I had ever seen. She kept running and darting, and the boys would look at me, and look at her, and then back again. Little Apollo had a "Mom, is Lucy adopted?" look on his face. We went back around the big tree again, and Lucy actually tried a blade of grass...and then picked up a stick.
The goats have been out several times now. I tell them, "Let's go for a field trip," and they get excited. Sometimes, they run into the work room when I'm not looking, and I have to shoo them out. I ended up mowing the field to make it a little easier for them to explore, and now they all eat grass. Although...it is only one blade at a time. Maybe I need more goats...
Lucy picked up a pinecone in her mouth and carried it for a few seconds. Then a little stick like she was a dog. I couldn't help but sigh. As their mama did I need to get down on my hands and knees and show them what they should be doing?? I picked a blade of grass, and tried giving it to Apollo. He looked at me. "BAA!" Ok...grass sucks...I get it..how bout some clover? "BAA!" When he opened his mouth, the clover stuck to his lip, and then it fell, and he looked down at it....nothing. So I continued on our field trip, up the hill and around the big tree...After that they ran back into the barn. I guessed the field trip was over...and was glad they recognized where home was.
On the second field trip, we took the same path out toward the firepit. The goats stayed close behind me because they couldn't see over the grass. Once we got to the firepit, they got a little braver, but didn't stray more than a foot or two away from me. Still, no grass eating. Lucy, must have realized she had legs, because she bolted full speed to the barn, like a little deer. When I called her to come back she rounded the truck and came flying back ears flying out at the sides. It was, honest to God, one of the cutest things I had ever seen. She kept running and darting, and the boys would look at me, and look at her, and then back again. Little Apollo had a "Mom, is Lucy adopted?" look on his face. We went back around the big tree again, and Lucy actually tried a blade of grass...and then picked up a stick.
The goats have been out several times now. I tell them, "Let's go for a field trip," and they get excited. Sometimes, they run into the work room when I'm not looking, and I have to shoo them out. I ended up mowing the field to make it a little easier for them to explore, and now they all eat grass. Although...it is only one blade at a time. Maybe I need more goats...
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Goat Care and Little Goat Discipline
GOAT CARE:
A week after the goats came home, the 3 boys were due for vaccines. My mom came over to lend a hand, and asked if I had an orange to practice on... How hard could it be? There's resistance, and then it gives, and then you empty the syringe right? So I filled my syringe, and my mom taught me how to tap out the air bubbles and "squirt" to make sure they were all out...just like on tv..
I grabbed Apollo first because he was the smallest, (Youngest goes first!! My sister used to yell when we were kids...) and tried pinching the back of his hip to create a "tent" to insert the needle. Well he wasn't in the mood...so my mom had to WWF his little goat butt...and I was impressed. She got on her knees, grabbed the stuffed my little pony, and yelled, "Go!" Oh shit... So I grabbed his skin and pushed the needle in. He started to scream as I emptied the syringe. I was actually alright...wasn't too emotional...and apologized to him, wishing I had a little treasure box for him like they do at the dentist's office. Instead, I gave him a little grain.
Next was Dante...I did one, so I felt I was a pro by the second one. TAP TAP TAP for the airbubbles, and a small squirt, you guessed it, just like on tv... I got my mom knee pads to make her more comfortable, and she tackled Dante to the floor. "Go!" she yelled. So I pulled the skin out on his back leg and stuck the needle in. He screamed and jumped and knocked the needle out of his back leg. I had to stick him 3 times to give him his full injection. I had bad visions of accidently stabbing myself, or even worse, giving my mom a tetanus shot. I gave Dante his grain, and apologized 3 times since I had to stab him that many times.
My mom offered to do Mr. Fibbs, and I let her. She was definitely a lot more professional looking with the tapping and squirting...like a real MD compared to a first time soon to be junky. Mr. Fibbs went real quick, and he got his grain. I'm thankful every day that injections only come once a year!!! Would practicing on an orange have helped? Only if I was in the back of a jeep going 4 wheeling down a road full of potholes going 40 miles an hour!
Several times the boys have ended up with hay and straw in their eyes....like WAY back in their eyeball. Shortly after I brought them home, Apollo got something in his eye...and I tried and tried to get it with no luck. It looked like a small piece of wheat, and the wheat was facing the direction I needed to pull...not good.
So mom and super steve came over one night and provided a few extra pairs of hands while I got it out of his eye. He sat in Steve's lap and was totally calm like he was watching the latest Twilight movie...just needed a little goat popcorn. ANYWAY, my mom held open his eye, and I pulled the straw out. It was over an inch long, and barely an 1/8 of an inch had been showing!!! I put some Eye ointment on him, from my super duper goat first aid kit I made, and he was good as new.
Scours...Scours is the same as goat diarreah. You can tell anything about a goat by their poop. If they are healthy and happy, they poop little berries. If their poop is anything but berries, something isn't right. So every day, I check their poops. Well about a week ago, I noticed Dante was shooting split pea soup...not good. So I gave him some Probios, which is good bacteria to help digestion in goat tummies. For 3 days I would go down to the barn, and the back of his legs were covered with poop...I literally had to cut the hair on the back of his legs to get it off. That, and LOTS of baby wipes. So, let me tell you WHY he was crapping his little brains out...(Because he doesn't want to talk about it right now.) Dante learned to suck the nipples on Lucy's bucket, and was butting her out of the way and drinking her milk. ANY sudden change in a goat's diet will make them extremely sick. Since then, he has managed to wipe his ass on everyone, so everyone is getting summer haircuts this weekend...
But back to Dante, which brings me to Little Goat Discipline...
He is the naughtiest of all naughty little goats. When I first caught him in Lucy's bucket, I clapped my hands at him and said NO! I think he laughed at me. So I went to the internet, and looked up naughty goats...and what to do. Well, mother goats head butt their children when they do something not acceptable, and I certainly wasn't going to do that!!! (I know some of you thought that's where I was going with this...) Anyway, I read to pull their tail, or ear, or punt them in the chest..(with your hand, NOT like a football...) So I tried that...every time I saw him go to the bucket, I pulled his tail. He turned around and stomped at me with this goofy grin he always has on his face, and I stomped back. Mind you....this goat comes to my knees with the top of his head...And we're stomping at each other like a bunch of two year olds...Then he went back to the bucket. So I got a squirt bottle. And he does NOT like that. Goats do not like to get wet. So the second he would go for the bucket, I would squirt him in the face. Again, he would stomp at me...but then he would walk away. BUT he would watch me for the second I turned my back, and he would be back at the bucket. Goats are extremely smart. So, in the mean time, for the safety of his stomach, Lucy only gets her bucket while I am down there...I let her drink as much as she can, and then remove it. The first time I did it...he stomped at me.
A week after the goats came home, the 3 boys were due for vaccines. My mom came over to lend a hand, and asked if I had an orange to practice on... How hard could it be? There's resistance, and then it gives, and then you empty the syringe right? So I filled my syringe, and my mom taught me how to tap out the air bubbles and "squirt" to make sure they were all out...just like on tv..
I grabbed Apollo first because he was the smallest, (Youngest goes first!! My sister used to yell when we were kids...) and tried pinching the back of his hip to create a "tent" to insert the needle. Well he wasn't in the mood...so my mom had to WWF his little goat butt...and I was impressed. She got on her knees, grabbed the stuffed my little pony, and yelled, "Go!" Oh shit... So I grabbed his skin and pushed the needle in. He started to scream as I emptied the syringe. I was actually alright...wasn't too emotional...and apologized to him, wishing I had a little treasure box for him like they do at the dentist's office. Instead, I gave him a little grain.
Next was Dante...I did one, so I felt I was a pro by the second one. TAP TAP TAP for the airbubbles, and a small squirt, you guessed it, just like on tv... I got my mom knee pads to make her more comfortable, and she tackled Dante to the floor. "Go!" she yelled. So I pulled the skin out on his back leg and stuck the needle in. He screamed and jumped and knocked the needle out of his back leg. I had to stick him 3 times to give him his full injection. I had bad visions of accidently stabbing myself, or even worse, giving my mom a tetanus shot. I gave Dante his grain, and apologized 3 times since I had to stab him that many times.
My mom offered to do Mr. Fibbs, and I let her. She was definitely a lot more professional looking with the tapping and squirting...like a real MD compared to a first time soon to be junky. Mr. Fibbs went real quick, and he got his grain. I'm thankful every day that injections only come once a year!!! Would practicing on an orange have helped? Only if I was in the back of a jeep going 4 wheeling down a road full of potholes going 40 miles an hour!
Several times the boys have ended up with hay and straw in their eyes....like WAY back in their eyeball. Shortly after I brought them home, Apollo got something in his eye...and I tried and tried to get it with no luck. It looked like a small piece of wheat, and the wheat was facing the direction I needed to pull...not good.
So mom and super steve came over one night and provided a few extra pairs of hands while I got it out of his eye. He sat in Steve's lap and was totally calm like he was watching the latest Twilight movie...just needed a little goat popcorn. ANYWAY, my mom held open his eye, and I pulled the straw out. It was over an inch long, and barely an 1/8 of an inch had been showing!!! I put some Eye ointment on him, from my super duper goat first aid kit I made, and he was good as new.
Scours...Scours is the same as goat diarreah. You can tell anything about a goat by their poop. If they are healthy and happy, they poop little berries. If their poop is anything but berries, something isn't right. So every day, I check their poops. Well about a week ago, I noticed Dante was shooting split pea soup...not good. So I gave him some Probios, which is good bacteria to help digestion in goat tummies. For 3 days I would go down to the barn, and the back of his legs were covered with poop...I literally had to cut the hair on the back of his legs to get it off. That, and LOTS of baby wipes. So, let me tell you WHY he was crapping his little brains out...(Because he doesn't want to talk about it right now.) Dante learned to suck the nipples on Lucy's bucket, and was butting her out of the way and drinking her milk. ANY sudden change in a goat's diet will make them extremely sick. Since then, he has managed to wipe his ass on everyone, so everyone is getting summer haircuts this weekend...
But back to Dante, which brings me to Little Goat Discipline...
He is the naughtiest of all naughty little goats. When I first caught him in Lucy's bucket, I clapped my hands at him and said NO! I think he laughed at me. So I went to the internet, and looked up naughty goats...and what to do. Well, mother goats head butt their children when they do something not acceptable, and I certainly wasn't going to do that!!! (I know some of you thought that's where I was going with this...) Anyway, I read to pull their tail, or ear, or punt them in the chest..(with your hand, NOT like a football...) So I tried that...every time I saw him go to the bucket, I pulled his tail. He turned around and stomped at me with this goofy grin he always has on his face, and I stomped back. Mind you....this goat comes to my knees with the top of his head...And we're stomping at each other like a bunch of two year olds...Then he went back to the bucket. So I got a squirt bottle. And he does NOT like that. Goats do not like to get wet. So the second he would go for the bucket, I would squirt him in the face. Again, he would stomp at me...but then he would walk away. BUT he would watch me for the second I turned my back, and he would be back at the bucket. Goats are extremely smart. So, in the mean time, for the safety of his stomach, Lucy only gets her bucket while I am down there...I let her drink as much as she can, and then remove it. The first time I did it...he stomped at me.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Me and the Queen Bee
A few weeks ago, I noticed a queen was building a paper hive at the entrance to the barn, inside...and I knew I had to take care of it...but I didn't want to spray it, because it was right around the babies...
So I would watch this thing get bigger...watching the queen go in and out...
And then finally, Saturday night when I was leaving the barn, I saw her leave and this motherly instinct took over...With a dozen eggs in one hand, and my 6 ft level in the other, I smashed it against a rafter...(It was about the size of a lemon). For a second I was devastated it smashed, because I wanted to take it to the house to show M...and then the next second, I saw a yellow jacket climb out of the smashed hut....WHEN THE F*$& did she get a roommate?! So the yellow jacket started to fly, and I assumed it was after me...so with my eggs tucked under my arm like a football, I started to run. I ran a circle around the Tahoe before diving into the passenger seat and slamming the door...waiting to see if the bee would be stinging my window...I climbed into the driver's seat and looked around to see if the bee was circling my car...looking for a way in. I even closed the air vents just in case.
I then worried all night that she was going to sting the babies just to get back at me for demolishing her condo...
So I would watch this thing get bigger...watching the queen go in and out...
And then finally, Saturday night when I was leaving the barn, I saw her leave and this motherly instinct took over...With a dozen eggs in one hand, and my 6 ft level in the other, I smashed it against a rafter...(It was about the size of a lemon). For a second I was devastated it smashed, because I wanted to take it to the house to show M...and then the next second, I saw a yellow jacket climb out of the smashed hut....WHEN THE F*$& did she get a roommate?! So the yellow jacket started to fly, and I assumed it was after me...so with my eggs tucked under my arm like a football, I started to run. I ran a circle around the Tahoe before diving into the passenger seat and slamming the door...waiting to see if the bee would be stinging my window...I climbed into the driver's seat and looked around to see if the bee was circling my car...looking for a way in. I even closed the air vents just in case.
I then worried all night that she was going to sting the babies just to get back at me for demolishing her condo...
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Victoria
About 8 weeks ago, I noticed Victoria's chest was dragging again, and she was kicking at it as she walked. Not wanting it to split open again, I once again brought her up to the house...(The hospital isn't finished yet.)
Well we became reaquainted roomies quite quickly...She was no where near as bad as she was when I had to play doctor the previous time. So I softened her food, gave her clean water and kept an eye on her. The following weekend I took her back down into the field to frollic with the rest of the hens for the day. At the end of the day, she looked pretty pooped, so I brought her back up to the house. When I realized her chest wasn't going down, I emptied her by making her throw up. (Tipping her upside down.) Well she clogged my sink and fought a little bit, knocking my brush into the sink... *gag. She felt much better and was a lot perkier after that, but I, needed two bottles of drano and a new brush.
Every day I had planned to take her back down to the coop because she was doing great...but in the morning her crop was full again. (It's supposed to empty and digest at night.) The morning after my birthday, the day I went to get Lucy, Vickie wasn't looking so hot...I went to get her some applesauce...and when I came back she was laying down... I picked her up into my lap and she looked at me and then closed her eyes. And that was it...she was gone... I cried as I tried to wake her up....trying to curl her claws around my finger...I rocked her and cried for about 15 minutes. I can't count how many times I had saved that chicken's life....but she wasn't meant for one more. I know it was probably what was best for her...once a chicken has a pendulum crop, they have it forever, and it is something that she would have always had to deal with... I loved that stupid chicken...
RIP Victoria
Well we became reaquainted roomies quite quickly...She was no where near as bad as she was when I had to play doctor the previous time. So I softened her food, gave her clean water and kept an eye on her. The following weekend I took her back down into the field to frollic with the rest of the hens for the day. At the end of the day, she looked pretty pooped, so I brought her back up to the house. When I realized her chest wasn't going down, I emptied her by making her throw up. (Tipping her upside down.) Well she clogged my sink and fought a little bit, knocking my brush into the sink... *gag. She felt much better and was a lot perkier after that, but I, needed two bottles of drano and a new brush.
Every day I had planned to take her back down to the coop because she was doing great...but in the morning her crop was full again. (It's supposed to empty and digest at night.) The morning after my birthday, the day I went to get Lucy, Vickie wasn't looking so hot...I went to get her some applesauce...and when I came back she was laying down... I picked her up into my lap and she looked at me and then closed her eyes. And that was it...she was gone... I cried as I tried to wake her up....trying to curl her claws around my finger...I rocked her and cried for about 15 minutes. I can't count how many times I had saved that chicken's life....but she wasn't meant for one more. I know it was probably what was best for her...once a chicken has a pendulum crop, they have it forever, and it is something that she would have always had to deal with... I loved that stupid chicken...
RIP Victoria
It's been awhile...
Geez....where do I start? My mom and I finished our gardening classes put on by the master gardeners. What a wonderful series... I am on the mailing list, so I look forward to future workshops!
I did get my babies on my birthday. My mom, mariah and I drove down to Oregon to get the boys. Dante and Mr. Fibbs are brothers, and little Apollo. My mom also got one named Nickleman. The following day I went to Shelton and got Lucy in the Sky...or Lucy for short. My mom got another goat too...Ziblet. After two days of driving I was pretty pooped, so after the excitement died down, and everyone went home, I was sitting in the barn with my 4 babies in their new home. They were checking everything out, coming to smell me...jumping on their haybales and checking out the new feeder I built them. I could barely keep my eyes open, and kept glancing at the corner tucked around the corner of the feeder...Just...need...to...close...eyes...for...5...ZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzz. I curled up in the straw and slept for about 20 minutes. Then Apollo tried climbing me like a mountain, and I woke up again.
Let me tell you about each one...The three boys are Nigerian Dwarfs. They will get to be about 21 inches at the shoulder...
Mr. Fibbs THINKS he is the boss...Every time you go to pet him his face says "I should run" but his body argues because it feels so good. He loves getting his chest scratched. He's also a little screamer and drama queen... If you walk away from him he starts screaming bloody murder. Even after having him for 3 weeks, he doesn't like when people leave. He's very much like the real Mr. Fibbs. He is black and brown with white spots on his side, and blue eyes.
Dante is Mr.Fibbs' brother. He's a silent lover...but a stinker. He will come stand by me, and just stare at me, or lean against me until I pet him....and then he halfway closes his eyes and smiles while I scratch him behind his ears...No matter how often I correct him, he climbs up into the feeder, and eats. Everytime I look, I can only see his butt sticking out. I fought it everyday for awhile, but I figure eventually, he won't be able to fit in there... He is now taking to drinking out of Lucy's bucket. I pull his tail or pop him when he does, and he just looks at me and stomps his little hoof... I've read that an effective way of punishing a goat is with a spray bottle...they hate getting wet. I will have to try that. He is all black with white spots on his sides, and a white spot on his head. He also has a little white beauty mark on his lip. When he is in the sun he also has some small brown spots called "moon spots" in the goat world...
Little Apollo is a little baby. His birthday is only a week after the brothers, but he is half their size, and quite the mama's boy. The second day I had him, I was sitting on a hay bale, and he came at me full gallop from the other side of the pen. I was a little scared when he launched himself through the air and landed on my lap. He then made himself comfortable and started chewing his cud which looked like a little wad of bubblegum in his cheek...He gets pushed around quite a bit by the older boys, but from what I've read, just like the chickens, they need to establish their heirarchy. He loves to bury his face in the grass hay, and I've had to remove hay from his eyes several times. He needs little doggles. He is white with a goldish brown streak down his spine. He has gold spots all over him, and little gold freckles on his ears. He has a little 1" mane, so he kind of looks like a stuffed my little pony. I didn't tell him that though...the boys pick on him enough...
And then there is Lucy. Lucy is a Nubian, and looks more like a floppy eared deer. She has long gangly legs and will probably be 130 pounds full grown...When I brought Lucy home, she was 19 days old, and about the same size as the boys who were 8 weeks old. She is all black, a little salt and pepper around her belly...with a white spot on her head, long white ears and huge brown eyes. She jumps into my lap..gets comfortable and then puts her head back on me and whimpers. Its so damn cute. And since she is so young, she drinks milk out of a bucket with nipples. She gets a half a gallon a day split between two feedings. SO I go down to the barn at 330 in the morning, before I go to work, and fill her little bucket. Then I go down after work and fill it again. She didn't take to it the first few days...probably the change in scenery...and actually got quite sick. She got scours, (goat diarreah) and it can kill a baby goat in 24 hours. I was so worried I was going to lose her. I gave her some medicine orally to stop scours, and monitored her milk intake. Within a few days, everytime I went to the barn, she would run to her bucket and start drinking...Kind of like "Hey mom! Look what I can do!" She is drinking every day now...and has already grown two inches taller than the boys. I am trying to wean her off my lap...(even though it is terribly difficult to resist that face and the whimpering...) but I'm not stupid...I don't want a 130 pound goat laying on my lap.
I did get my babies on my birthday. My mom, mariah and I drove down to Oregon to get the boys. Dante and Mr. Fibbs are brothers, and little Apollo. My mom also got one named Nickleman. The following day I went to Shelton and got Lucy in the Sky...or Lucy for short. My mom got another goat too...Ziblet. After two days of driving I was pretty pooped, so after the excitement died down, and everyone went home, I was sitting in the barn with my 4 babies in their new home. They were checking everything out, coming to smell me...jumping on their haybales and checking out the new feeder I built them. I could barely keep my eyes open, and kept glancing at the corner tucked around the corner of the feeder...Just...need...to...close...eyes...for...5...ZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzz. I curled up in the straw and slept for about 20 minutes. Then Apollo tried climbing me like a mountain, and I woke up again.
Let me tell you about each one...The three boys are Nigerian Dwarfs. They will get to be about 21 inches at the shoulder...
Mr. Fibbs THINKS he is the boss...Every time you go to pet him his face says "I should run" but his body argues because it feels so good. He loves getting his chest scratched. He's also a little screamer and drama queen... If you walk away from him he starts screaming bloody murder. Even after having him for 3 weeks, he doesn't like when people leave. He's very much like the real Mr. Fibbs. He is black and brown with white spots on his side, and blue eyes.
Dante is Mr.Fibbs' brother. He's a silent lover...but a stinker. He will come stand by me, and just stare at me, or lean against me until I pet him....and then he halfway closes his eyes and smiles while I scratch him behind his ears...No matter how often I correct him, he climbs up into the feeder, and eats. Everytime I look, I can only see his butt sticking out. I fought it everyday for awhile, but I figure eventually, he won't be able to fit in there... He is now taking to drinking out of Lucy's bucket. I pull his tail or pop him when he does, and he just looks at me and stomps his little hoof... I've read that an effective way of punishing a goat is with a spray bottle...they hate getting wet. I will have to try that. He is all black with white spots on his sides, and a white spot on his head. He also has a little white beauty mark on his lip. When he is in the sun he also has some small brown spots called "moon spots" in the goat world...
Little Apollo is a little baby. His birthday is only a week after the brothers, but he is half their size, and quite the mama's boy. The second day I had him, I was sitting on a hay bale, and he came at me full gallop from the other side of the pen. I was a little scared when he launched himself through the air and landed on my lap. He then made himself comfortable and started chewing his cud which looked like a little wad of bubblegum in his cheek...He gets pushed around quite a bit by the older boys, but from what I've read, just like the chickens, they need to establish their heirarchy. He loves to bury his face in the grass hay, and I've had to remove hay from his eyes several times. He needs little doggles. He is white with a goldish brown streak down his spine. He has gold spots all over him, and little gold freckles on his ears. He has a little 1" mane, so he kind of looks like a stuffed my little pony. I didn't tell him that though...the boys pick on him enough...
And then there is Lucy. Lucy is a Nubian, and looks more like a floppy eared deer. She has long gangly legs and will probably be 130 pounds full grown...When I brought Lucy home, she was 19 days old, and about the same size as the boys who were 8 weeks old. She is all black, a little salt and pepper around her belly...with a white spot on her head, long white ears and huge brown eyes. She jumps into my lap..gets comfortable and then puts her head back on me and whimpers. Its so damn cute. And since she is so young, she drinks milk out of a bucket with nipples. She gets a half a gallon a day split between two feedings. SO I go down to the barn at 330 in the morning, before I go to work, and fill her little bucket. Then I go down after work and fill it again. She didn't take to it the first few days...probably the change in scenery...and actually got quite sick. She got scours, (goat diarreah) and it can kill a baby goat in 24 hours. I was so worried I was going to lose her. I gave her some medicine orally to stop scours, and monitored her milk intake. Within a few days, everytime I went to the barn, she would run to her bucket and start drinking...Kind of like "Hey mom! Look what I can do!" She is drinking every day now...and has already grown two inches taller than the boys. I am trying to wean her off my lap...(even though it is terribly difficult to resist that face and the whimpering...) but I'm not stupid...I don't want a 130 pound goat laying on my lap.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Rome wasn't built in a day....
A year ago, my daughter Mariah and I went to Italy... The architecture and art were amazing. The thought that towns took hundreds of years to build...and works of art took lifetimes. Did Leonardo DaVinci ever rest his chin in the palm of his hand wondering how much longer his Mona Lisa would take? Did Michelangelo ever lay back on the rickety scaffolding inside the Sistine Chapel fighting the urge to change course? Or perhaps stealing a moment or two to scribble his "To Do" list for the day or the week? Did the creators of Venice sit on a hill side thinking, "We need to build this city on water?"
I walk through my field, touching the new budding leaves of my three year old fruit trees...picturing them as a fully operational orchard. Climbing up ladders to pick the fruit...watching honey bees from my future hives lazily bob from blossom to blossom. I walk up my trickling creek, knowing one day it will be filled with rocks, and will have a bridge going across it, with grasses and pussy willows lining the sides. I stand in the middle of my kingdom mentally pointing at the landscape...There will be the shed/cold storage...there will be the garden and the berry patch...there will be the split-rail fence with the row of sunflowers...
Over under that tree will be the swing that I may...or may not will be able to sit on..(depending on the branch...) :) Up on that hillside will be the pigs and the turkeys...and back behind the barn, the goats and maybe the rabbit hutch. I close my eyes, and I hear the symphony of the animals...the clucks, baas, oinks and gobbles...the buzz of the occasional bee... I open my eyes and look around...the scotch broom that needs to be pulled, the potholes that need to be filled...the hundreds and hundreds of feet of fence that need to be put up. Did the great renaissance masters ever sigh deeply looking at their blank canvas?
I look at my old barn...which is looking more and more like a new barn. But yet, there is still so much to do...
My babies are coming home in two weeks! On my birthday, April 22nd, my mom, Mariah and I are driving to Oregon to get the boys. Apollo, Dante and Mr. Fibbs. And on the 23rd, another bundle of joy. (HEY! I NEVER SAID I WAS STOPPING AT 3!!!) On the 23rd, I will be getting a Nubian. She will be 3 weeks old. Her name will be Jekuthiel's Lucy in the Sky. Jekuthiel is the name of the dairy she is coming from. My heart floods with joy when I think of bringing these 4 home... I am going to run and skip with them, and lay in the straw with them. I am going to introduce them to "The Girls", and they will all be the best of friends...
Some day, my animal family and I will be lounging on the hillside in the sun...admiring our masterpiece...
Rome wasn't built in a day.
I walk through my field, touching the new budding leaves of my three year old fruit trees...picturing them as a fully operational orchard. Climbing up ladders to pick the fruit...watching honey bees from my future hives lazily bob from blossom to blossom. I walk up my trickling creek, knowing one day it will be filled with rocks, and will have a bridge going across it, with grasses and pussy willows lining the sides. I stand in the middle of my kingdom mentally pointing at the landscape...There will be the shed/cold storage...there will be the garden and the berry patch...there will be the split-rail fence with the row of sunflowers...
Over under that tree will be the swing that I may...or may not will be able to sit on..(depending on the branch...) :) Up on that hillside will be the pigs and the turkeys...and back behind the barn, the goats and maybe the rabbit hutch. I close my eyes, and I hear the symphony of the animals...the clucks, baas, oinks and gobbles...the buzz of the occasional bee... I open my eyes and look around...the scotch broom that needs to be pulled, the potholes that need to be filled...the hundreds and hundreds of feet of fence that need to be put up. Did the great renaissance masters ever sigh deeply looking at their blank canvas?
I look at my old barn...which is looking more and more like a new barn. But yet, there is still so much to do...
My babies are coming home in two weeks! On my birthday, April 22nd, my mom, Mariah and I are driving to Oregon to get the boys. Apollo, Dante and Mr. Fibbs. And on the 23rd, another bundle of joy. (HEY! I NEVER SAID I WAS STOPPING AT 3!!!) On the 23rd, I will be getting a Nubian. She will be 3 weeks old. Her name will be Jekuthiel's Lucy in the Sky. Jekuthiel is the name of the dairy she is coming from. My heart floods with joy when I think of bringing these 4 home... I am going to run and skip with them, and lay in the straw with them. I am going to introduce them to "The Girls", and they will all be the best of friends...
Some day, my animal family and I will be lounging on the hillside in the sun...admiring our masterpiece...
Rome wasn't built in a day.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Drumroll.....
Hello fellow farm friends, and wannabe farm friends. I would like to introduce you to my three new sons...
http://www.camanna.com/new_arrivals.htm
They are the three that say "Reserved by BB" The little white one with golden spots is Apollo...doesn't he have the cutest face?!
The little black one with white spots under him is mine, but unnamed as of right now...
And his brother, the little brown one with white spots and blue eyes is Mr. Fibbs. He has Fibbs' blue eyes, and the resemblance is uncanny. ;) They should be coming home on my birthday weekend next month...which is perfect timing...the barn should be done by then. :)
Class last Saturday was great...I've decided that the preacher farmer is like a paper doll...(a very big one)...and the only thing you can change on him is his flannel...his bucket hat and overalls, and the big white beard are fixed...
No sign of cat piss either...
We learned about composting. I knew quite a bit about it, but my compost, I now know, is not wet enough. Our teacher Paul, said that your compost needs to be wet enough, that if you pick it up and squeeze it, water should run down your arm...really gross dirty water...
So I have uncovered my compost bin so it can catch some rain...My compost bin is mostly pine shavings, chicken poop, egg shells, and the occasional coffee grounds and kitchen scraps that the chickens don't get.
I also need worms...so for awhile, if I find a worm, its going in the bin...not to the chickens.
Speaking of chickens...I have decided to donate 100% of all profits from egg sales to the Susan G. Komen cure for cancer between now and September. My sister Amy, Mariah and I are doing the 3 day walk in September. It's 60 miles in 3 days. (Jenny Craig would be proud.) Thank you for your support!!!
http://www.camanna.com/new_arrivals.htm
They are the three that say "Reserved by BB" The little white one with golden spots is Apollo...doesn't he have the cutest face?!
The little black one with white spots under him is mine, but unnamed as of right now...
And his brother, the little brown one with white spots and blue eyes is Mr. Fibbs. He has Fibbs' blue eyes, and the resemblance is uncanny. ;) They should be coming home on my birthday weekend next month...which is perfect timing...the barn should be done by then. :)
Class last Saturday was great...I've decided that the preacher farmer is like a paper doll...(a very big one)...and the only thing you can change on him is his flannel...his bucket hat and overalls, and the big white beard are fixed...
No sign of cat piss either...
We learned about composting. I knew quite a bit about it, but my compost, I now know, is not wet enough. Our teacher Paul, said that your compost needs to be wet enough, that if you pick it up and squeeze it, water should run down your arm...really gross dirty water...
So I have uncovered my compost bin so it can catch some rain...My compost bin is mostly pine shavings, chicken poop, egg shells, and the occasional coffee grounds and kitchen scraps that the chickens don't get.
I also need worms...so for awhile, if I find a worm, its going in the bin...not to the chickens.
Speaking of chickens...I have decided to donate 100% of all profits from egg sales to the Susan G. Komen cure for cancer between now and September. My sister Amy, Mariah and I are doing the 3 day walk in September. It's 60 miles in 3 days. (Jenny Craig would be proud.) Thank you for your support!!!
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Barn doors...
Doing some cleaning out of this tired old barn....brushin away the cobwebs, opening up the windows and letting in some fresh air....breathe. There is a pile or two of dirt left that still needs to be swept out....sweeeeeeeep out of this barn...and back out into the world....scattering out in the wind. Pull a few things out of corners...and off of high shelves....won't be needing this anymore....don't even bother blowing the dust off. I need to make room in this barn....for new things, experiences....new reasons to giggle and even new reasons to cry. New reasons to belly laugh and new things to make me sigh. A couple of my posts are rotten, but I am replacing them one by one. One or two rotten posts won't bring this barn down. Breathe... My old barn door was hanging from a hinge....enough to see what was behind it. And we all know...doors don't open until others completely close. So I grabbed a big girl hammer and some big girl nails and nailed that old barn door closed. Silence........breathe...... New doors are opening....This farm girl has new Barn doors....and whatever is behind them is so bright, I need my RayBans. ;)
Friday, March 4, 2011
Lately...
Hmmm...so much to catch up on. Garden class number two was great. Mom and I learned about soil types, how to test your soil, and got a cool demonstration on how pesticides leech into soils and end up in creeks and streams. The entire time I watched the snow fall outside. Cat Piss was at the front of the room, and didn't see me this time. It's amazing how he doesn't say anything. In farm class he wouldn't shutup. Maybe gardening is his thing, and he doesn't have any questions? The Farmer Preacher was there, and he was wearing the same thing except for a different brightly colored flannel. He preached about Glacial movement, and how the pacific northwest was formed...quite interesting. He talked about this huge ice mass moving across the area, and when it melted, it dropped all of the rocks,(explains my property) and formed all of the lakes around here..."Puddles" he called them.
Then another lady spoke. She reminded me of the caterpillar on Alice in Wonderland who asked Alice, "WHO ARE YOOOOOOOUUU????" Except she had a little bob haircut, and had more energy than I could muster in a week. She spoke about seeds, "Our babies", and said that we all started as seeds, and asked us if we knew where we were planted...I glanced at my mom out of the corner of my eye....I had an idea...awkward!! She talked more about seeds being planted and caring for them as they grew, and mom even got a little misty eyed picturing me, her first baby seed growing. It was a great class, and the next one is on COMPOSTING in a few weeks. Sweet...
The barn looks amazing...The work room and hospital are just about done, the windows are in, and the front of the barn is getting its make-over. It looks just as I always pictured it in my heart... I wish you could all see it...
And lastly, some of my goats have been born. Originally I planned on getting two does...I was going to name them "Freedom and Fortitude"...Which is kind of where I am right now...and it propted a laugh from my mom. I guess she was expecting Daisy or Skippy or something. What are you going to call them for short she asked. Freedy and Forty? Well, the last kidding I was supposed to choose from, the doe was still born. :( I still have my name on some future kiddings due later this month and in April, but I've made the decision to get a few wethers now instead...(And probably does later.) :D Wethers are castrated bucks. They are perfect for pet quality, and not hormonal like full bucks or does. (Thats all I need is someone hormonal around here!) So I've come up with some boy names, and last week at work, I even passed out some "It's a boy" candies to my co-workers. The first boy will be named Mr. Fibbs after "The Great Oracle" and one of my dearest friends. I think the second one will be Apollo, after the Roman god who pulled the sun acrossed the sky every day behind his flaming chariot. I also like Pan...the half man, half goat creature from mythology. He was in my favorite Shakespeare play, "A Midsummer Night's Dream". In the play he was named "Puck" which is too close to "%&#$", and you need to take into consideration that he made be made fun of by his little goat friends...(kids can be so cruel,) so I may just leave it Pan. I also liked Bilbo Baggins, after the hobbit, but you guessed it, Bilbo rhymes with Dildo...so...um..probably not. And one of them Dante. Dante's Inferno, Dante's Divine Comedy, and Dante the orphanage where my grandfather grew up. Is that jacked up?! I can't wait for my babies to get here...To see them run and skip, and to give me goat kisses...
I sat in the loft of my barn the other day, dangling my feet over the edge...overlooking my kingdom. I held my breath and listened...nothing but wind and the occasional cluck of a chicken...Not sure what I was expecting...what I was waiting for...but there was nothing...
Richard Bach once said, "What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the rest of the world calls butterfly.."
Its time for this butterfly to fly.
Then another lady spoke. She reminded me of the caterpillar on Alice in Wonderland who asked Alice, "WHO ARE YOOOOOOOUUU????" Except she had a little bob haircut, and had more energy than I could muster in a week. She spoke about seeds, "Our babies", and said that we all started as seeds, and asked us if we knew where we were planted...I glanced at my mom out of the corner of my eye....I had an idea...awkward!! She talked more about seeds being planted and caring for them as they grew, and mom even got a little misty eyed picturing me, her first baby seed growing. It was a great class, and the next one is on COMPOSTING in a few weeks. Sweet...
The barn looks amazing...The work room and hospital are just about done, the windows are in, and the front of the barn is getting its make-over. It looks just as I always pictured it in my heart... I wish you could all see it...
And lastly, some of my goats have been born. Originally I planned on getting two does...I was going to name them "Freedom and Fortitude"...Which is kind of where I am right now...and it propted a laugh from my mom. I guess she was expecting Daisy or Skippy or something. What are you going to call them for short she asked. Freedy and Forty? Well, the last kidding I was supposed to choose from, the doe was still born. :( I still have my name on some future kiddings due later this month and in April, but I've made the decision to get a few wethers now instead...(And probably does later.) :D Wethers are castrated bucks. They are perfect for pet quality, and not hormonal like full bucks or does. (Thats all I need is someone hormonal around here!) So I've come up with some boy names, and last week at work, I even passed out some "It's a boy" candies to my co-workers. The first boy will be named Mr. Fibbs after "The Great Oracle" and one of my dearest friends. I think the second one will be Apollo, after the Roman god who pulled the sun acrossed the sky every day behind his flaming chariot. I also like Pan...the half man, half goat creature from mythology. He was in my favorite Shakespeare play, "A Midsummer Night's Dream". In the play he was named "Puck" which is too close to "%&#$", and you need to take into consideration that he made be made fun of by his little goat friends...(kids can be so cruel,) so I may just leave it Pan. I also liked Bilbo Baggins, after the hobbit, but you guessed it, Bilbo rhymes with Dildo...so...um..probably not. And one of them Dante. Dante's Inferno, Dante's Divine Comedy, and Dante the orphanage where my grandfather grew up. Is that jacked up?! I can't wait for my babies to get here...To see them run and skip, and to give me goat kisses...
I sat in the loft of my barn the other day, dangling my feet over the edge...overlooking my kingdom. I held my breath and listened...nothing but wind and the occasional cluck of a chicken...Not sure what I was expecting...what I was waiting for...but there was nothing...
Richard Bach once said, "What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the rest of the world calls butterfly.."
Its time for this butterfly to fly.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Take the time...
Someone posted this on my facebook wall today, and I wanted to share....
"There comes a point in your life when "FUN" no longer means bar hopping, clubbin, being out till 4am or drinking too much, but it means board games, movies, going out for family dinners, bedtime stories, sleeping in means 7am. Having a family doesn't change you, its realizing that the people who love you deserve the best of your free time and you!" Please take a little extra time with your family this week...Let every one of them know you love them...
The barn is coming along wonderfully... All of the walls are up for my work room and the hospital! The windows and doors just need to be installed!
The days are coming closer to when my baby goats will be born, and I can't wait! As soon as this crazy weather makes up it's mind, I'll be starting the fencing. I look forward to being outside again.
This Saturday is my second gardening class with my mom. I wonder if Cat Piss and the Garden Preacher will be there?
"There comes a point in your life when "FUN" no longer means bar hopping, clubbin, being out till 4am or drinking too much, but it means board games, movies, going out for family dinners, bedtime stories, sleeping in means 7am. Having a family doesn't change you, its realizing that the people who love you deserve the best of your free time and you!" Please take a little extra time with your family this week...Let every one of them know you love them...
The barn is coming along wonderfully... All of the walls are up for my work room and the hospital! The windows and doors just need to be installed!
The days are coming closer to when my baby goats will be born, and I can't wait! As soon as this crazy weather makes up it's mind, I'll be starting the fencing. I look forward to being outside again.
This Saturday is my second gardening class with my mom. I wonder if Cat Piss and the Garden Preacher will be there?
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Brown Chicken Brown Cow
This was sent to me today, when I said I spent my day in the barn. TOO CUTE!!!
Trace Adkins - Brown Chicken Brown Cow
www.youtube.com
This link should work...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MzQ4qdlhurc
And to put the rumor to rest, the "work" I am having done on the barn, is NOT to add a stripper pole. (Thanks mom!)
Trace Adkins - Brown Chicken Brown Cow
www.youtube.com
This link should work...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MzQ4qdlhurc
And to put the rumor to rest, the "work" I am having done on the barn, is NOT to add a stripper pole. (Thanks mom!)
Not a cloud in the sky...
What an incredible day yesterday. I woke up around ten, which I never do...but Friday night had been a late one for me!!! A friend of mine from work invited me to an Italian cooking class in Gig Harbor. We had a blast! Thanks for getting me out of the house Karen! And thanks to MFC for joining me last minute!!!
So I woke up Saturday morning to this weird thing called the sun blaring through my window. I groaned and looked at the clock and halfway rolled out of bed. The dismount wasn't pretty. I halfway fixed my hair, and threw on some clothes. The way this thing called the "sun" works around here...is one minute its there, and the next minute its gone. So I wanted to take advantage of it before it disappeared. I drove into town and got a caramel macchiato. I felt a twinge of guilt, so I got a tea too. That way I would have the yummy caramelness, AND get my dose of antioxidants. :) I headed to the feed store and stocked up for all the animals and headed home. I had my sunroof open so I could see the blue sky, and cranked up the country radio station.
When I pulled into my field, I decided to leave the windows open and the radio on. I traded my slippers for my boots, which were still in the car from the night before, and jumped on the riding lawn mower. Hello my old friend. I had no intention of mowing the field, but my compost bins needed some "green" before I added more shavings from the coop, so I did a couple of laps, and raked up the clippings for the compost bin. I then let the girls out and started cleaning the coop. Well, to make a long story short, I was down in the barn for 4 hours. It felt good to be in it again! Between cleaning the coop and nesting boxes, and taking breaks to sit in the sun and watch the chickens, the time went fairly quickly. When I was done I was absolutely filthy. I closed everything up and jumped in the Tahoe. I went to start it and "click click click". Are you f*ing kidding me? I tried again. "Click click click". Well I guess that's what I get for rockin out while cleaning out the coop. I don't think the radio would have killed the battery alone, but I noticed my blue tooth had been activated the whole time too. I didn't even have enough juice to close the windows and sunroof. But the music was still playing!!! I grabbed what I needed and walked up to the house. I text my good friend James, and he came by to save the day about an hour later, and did his best to not make fun of me. He also brought his wife Becca, and their son Tyler. They had all just got back from the zoo, and Tyler loved to see the chickens. He called them "Bird" and when I showed him two eggs, he said "Egg" and tried to grab them from my hands.
All in all it was a great day. Hope I have more blue skies in my future. :)
**A new post was entered for the beginning of January. It is called "Something to ponder" and for some reason didn't post until today. Thanks!**
So I woke up Saturday morning to this weird thing called the sun blaring through my window. I groaned and looked at the clock and halfway rolled out of bed. The dismount wasn't pretty. I halfway fixed my hair, and threw on some clothes. The way this thing called the "sun" works around here...is one minute its there, and the next minute its gone. So I wanted to take advantage of it before it disappeared. I drove into town and got a caramel macchiato. I felt a twinge of guilt, so I got a tea too. That way I would have the yummy caramelness, AND get my dose of antioxidants. :) I headed to the feed store and stocked up for all the animals and headed home. I had my sunroof open so I could see the blue sky, and cranked up the country radio station.
When I pulled into my field, I decided to leave the windows open and the radio on. I traded my slippers for my boots, which were still in the car from the night before, and jumped on the riding lawn mower. Hello my old friend. I had no intention of mowing the field, but my compost bins needed some "green" before I added more shavings from the coop, so I did a couple of laps, and raked up the clippings for the compost bin. I then let the girls out and started cleaning the coop. Well, to make a long story short, I was down in the barn for 4 hours. It felt good to be in it again! Between cleaning the coop and nesting boxes, and taking breaks to sit in the sun and watch the chickens, the time went fairly quickly. When I was done I was absolutely filthy. I closed everything up and jumped in the Tahoe. I went to start it and "click click click". Are you f*ing kidding me? I tried again. "Click click click". Well I guess that's what I get for rockin out while cleaning out the coop. I don't think the radio would have killed the battery alone, but I noticed my blue tooth had been activated the whole time too. I didn't even have enough juice to close the windows and sunroof. But the music was still playing!!! I grabbed what I needed and walked up to the house. I text my good friend James, and he came by to save the day about an hour later, and did his best to not make fun of me. He also brought his wife Becca, and their son Tyler. They had all just got back from the zoo, and Tyler loved to see the chickens. He called them "Bird" and when I showed him two eggs, he said "Egg" and tried to grab them from my hands.
All in all it was a great day. Hope I have more blue skies in my future. :)
**A new post was entered for the beginning of January. It is called "Something to ponder" and for some reason didn't post until today. Thanks!**
Sunday, February 13 2011
Up and out of the house at 530AM. Today, Mariah my mom and I went to see Willy, the Berkshire pig. Two weeks ago, she had her babies, and Karry invited us up to see them, and to stay for her husband's famous frittata since we were traveling 3 hours and catching a ferry just to see everybody!
The ride over was beautiful. I've always loved Whidbey Island. We pulled into Karry's driveway around 9am and the jets were flying overhead one after the other from the nearby Naval air station.
Karry greeted all three of us with huge hugs and took us out to see the babies. She called out Willy, who my mom was seeing for the first time. She couldn't believe her eyes at Willy's size! I got good pictures of them together. :)
Then out trotted out a few of the babies. Mariah brought her "Big purse" and I told Karry to count her piglets before we left.... Mariah, nor anyone else got that close to one of the precious little piglets though...Willy was a great mom.
They were so adorable. Their little pink snouts and long eyelashes. Karry informed us all of them were sold, and that she still had a waiting list. Way to go Karry!!! She then picked up ALIA, (Am Lucky I'm Alive.) This was the little piglet she thought she was going to lose when she was first born... and since then has decided to keep her. She was so cute. It definitely has to be a challenge in the farming community to raise something from a baby knowing it is being raised for butcher. I'm pretty sure I can handle that though. :)
While we were out looking at the pigs, Karry asked me if I would be interested in helping her this year during the farm tour in September. Are you kidding?! To work on the farm tour with Karry and Willy?! How cool would that be?! (Later when I got home, I realized its the same weekend Mariah, my sister and I are doing the Susan G. Komen 3 day walk for breast cancer. :( So not only will I not get to help Karry out, I'm going to be missing the farm tour all together this year. Shit shit shit. Oh well, its for a great cause, and there will always be another farm tour...)
After seeing the piglets, we went in for breakfast. It was excellent! Mariah scarfed hers down and she doesn't even like eggs!!!
Karry, my mom and I then sat and discussed farm plans. She showed me hers, so I would know what to expect when the farm planner completed mine. Tons and tons of info, and many great things to apply for assistance on.
On the way home, Mariah and I rocked out to her Ipod with my mom in the back seat. It was a great day.
Thanks Karry for bringing us into your home once again! Come see us soon!!!
The ride over was beautiful. I've always loved Whidbey Island. We pulled into Karry's driveway around 9am and the jets were flying overhead one after the other from the nearby Naval air station.
Karry greeted all three of us with huge hugs and took us out to see the babies. She called out Willy, who my mom was seeing for the first time. She couldn't believe her eyes at Willy's size! I got good pictures of them together. :)
Then out trotted out a few of the babies. Mariah brought her "Big purse" and I told Karry to count her piglets before we left.... Mariah, nor anyone else got that close to one of the precious little piglets though...Willy was a great mom.
They were so adorable. Their little pink snouts and long eyelashes. Karry informed us all of them were sold, and that she still had a waiting list. Way to go Karry!!! She then picked up ALIA, (Am Lucky I'm Alive.) This was the little piglet she thought she was going to lose when she was first born... and since then has decided to keep her. She was so cute. It definitely has to be a challenge in the farming community to raise something from a baby knowing it is being raised for butcher. I'm pretty sure I can handle that though. :)
While we were out looking at the pigs, Karry asked me if I would be interested in helping her this year during the farm tour in September. Are you kidding?! To work on the farm tour with Karry and Willy?! How cool would that be?! (Later when I got home, I realized its the same weekend Mariah, my sister and I are doing the Susan G. Komen 3 day walk for breast cancer. :( So not only will I not get to help Karry out, I'm going to be missing the farm tour all together this year. Shit shit shit. Oh well, its for a great cause, and there will always be another farm tour...)
After seeing the piglets, we went in for breakfast. It was excellent! Mariah scarfed hers down and she doesn't even like eggs!!!
Karry, my mom and I then sat and discussed farm plans. She showed me hers, so I would know what to expect when the farm planner completed mine. Tons and tons of info, and many great things to apply for assistance on.
On the way home, Mariah and I rocked out to her Ipod with my mom in the back seat. It was a great day.
Thanks Karry for bringing us into your home once again! Come see us soon!!!
Friday, February 11, 2011
The Farm Planner
Today was the big day I have been waiting for, for about 6 months! The farm planner came out to assess my farm, and help me create a farm plan.
My county's extension office offers farm planners, free of charge. They come out, evaluate soil types, water run off and soil erosion issues, appropriate "animal units" per acre and even provide engineered designs of hua's (Heavy use areas...duh), and compost systems based on your animal population and need. They can even provide grants for fencing, and design drainage systems (you're goin down natural spring).
So Ron, (Mr. Farm Planner) was supposed to arrive at 3ish this afternoon. Well, I took Smooth Move tea last night before I went to bed, and guess what time it started to work? About 2:57ish. When he pulled up in his white truck, (with a strobe on top that Dixie could totally rock,) I jumped into my tahoe, and had him follow me to the back of the property. Mom and Super steve were down there waiting for us, because they wanted to hear what he had to say, and get some information on what a farm planner can do. Fortunately, we spent most of our conversation leaning against his truck, and no one noticed my white knuckled fists. He asked what my plans were, and I layed out my plans for the next 3 years. He jotted everything down, showed me an overhead picture of my property, and I prayed to Big, Tall and Studly that the field grasses wouldn't make me sneeze. By the time we started touring the property it passed...(the feeling, nothing else.) He was pretty impressed by the chicken run, and told me I had a beautiful wetlands. (No one has ever said that to me before...I may have blushed.) He called my seasonal creek a "storm water drain off" which was great because it moved my proposed fenceline that much closer to it. He snapped a picture of my old barn, and my fruit trees. He told me I had a beautiful piece of land. Next, Mr. Farm Planner is going to take all the info I gave him, and establish an actual plan. I will share the details of it when it gets released. But his visit today puts me one step closer to this farm's grand opening. I am going to call it the Beckypalooza...3 days of music, love and manure.
The barn is coming along great. The outer wall has been built, and the windows are framed in. I walked into the barn and looked out what will be a window toward what will be the garden. I kind of feel like I am building my own clubhouse... I am going to have secret hiding places and may even require a password for entry.
"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined."
-Henry David Thoreau
My county's extension office offers farm planners, free of charge. They come out, evaluate soil types, water run off and soil erosion issues, appropriate "animal units" per acre and even provide engineered designs of hua's (Heavy use areas...duh), and compost systems based on your animal population and need. They can even provide grants for fencing, and design drainage systems (you're goin down natural spring).
So Ron, (Mr. Farm Planner) was supposed to arrive at 3ish this afternoon. Well, I took Smooth Move tea last night before I went to bed, and guess what time it started to work? About 2:57ish. When he pulled up in his white truck, (with a strobe on top that Dixie could totally rock,) I jumped into my tahoe, and had him follow me to the back of the property. Mom and Super steve were down there waiting for us, because they wanted to hear what he had to say, and get some information on what a farm planner can do. Fortunately, we spent most of our conversation leaning against his truck, and no one noticed my white knuckled fists. He asked what my plans were, and I layed out my plans for the next 3 years. He jotted everything down, showed me an overhead picture of my property, and I prayed to Big, Tall and Studly that the field grasses wouldn't make me sneeze. By the time we started touring the property it passed...(the feeling, nothing else.) He was pretty impressed by the chicken run, and told me I had a beautiful wetlands. (No one has ever said that to me before...I may have blushed.) He called my seasonal creek a "storm water drain off" which was great because it moved my proposed fenceline that much closer to it. He snapped a picture of my old barn, and my fruit trees. He told me I had a beautiful piece of land. Next, Mr. Farm Planner is going to take all the info I gave him, and establish an actual plan. I will share the details of it when it gets released. But his visit today puts me one step closer to this farm's grand opening. I am going to call it the Beckypalooza...3 days of music, love and manure.
The barn is coming along great. The outer wall has been built, and the windows are framed in. I walked into the barn and looked out what will be a window toward what will be the garden. I kind of feel like I am building my own clubhouse... I am going to have secret hiding places and may even require a password for entry.
"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined."
-Henry David Thoreau
Monday, February 7, 2011
Therapy
Some people lay on couches, dictating their thoughts to a pen...some drink and smoke...some run, pounding the pavement, not knowing where they are going or what they are running from. Some eat...some don't...some pop pills...and some crawl in bed and never get up....
Not me. I get in my Tahoe, roll down the window, crank up the music, and sing at the top of my lungs! The fact that its only 40 degrees outside doesn't bother me. Sexy songs, angry songs, happy songs and of course some country...try it some time...it without a doubt makes me feel like a million bucks everytime. And if someone pulls up to you looking at you weird, point at your ear and mouth "bluetooth" to them. Or crank it up even more and sing to them, but be careful...thats how weirdos follow you home.
My other favorite therapy is buying and reading books. I just bought a book called "Chipmunk Seeking Squirrel", or was the squirrel seeking the chipmunk? Anyway, its a book of precious short stories about the lives of animals. Every time I read one of the short stories, it gives me the giggles.
The barn has come a long way in the last week, and I've gotten over the fact that I'm not doing the work. I can see this barn done so clearly, I could taste it. (Not that I would ever lick the barn, but you guys know what I mean.) The sagging roof is now straight, and starting tomorrow will be the beginning of my workroom and the little hospital. My heart and soul need for this barn to be finished so I can start my next chapter of my farm. Thank you Troy for all of your hardwork!
Speaking of the hospital, Victoria is doing great. She has been back down in the coop for over a week now, and is having no further impaction issues. I tried telling her today just how lucky she was, and she cocked her head up at me and sqwaked. I don't speak chicken, (surprising I know,) but I think she said "thank you".
Not me. I get in my Tahoe, roll down the window, crank up the music, and sing at the top of my lungs! The fact that its only 40 degrees outside doesn't bother me. Sexy songs, angry songs, happy songs and of course some country...try it some time...it without a doubt makes me feel like a million bucks everytime. And if someone pulls up to you looking at you weird, point at your ear and mouth "bluetooth" to them. Or crank it up even more and sing to them, but be careful...thats how weirdos follow you home.
My other favorite therapy is buying and reading books. I just bought a book called "Chipmunk Seeking Squirrel", or was the squirrel seeking the chipmunk? Anyway, its a book of precious short stories about the lives of animals. Every time I read one of the short stories, it gives me the giggles.
The barn has come a long way in the last week, and I've gotten over the fact that I'm not doing the work. I can see this barn done so clearly, I could taste it. (Not that I would ever lick the barn, but you guys know what I mean.) The sagging roof is now straight, and starting tomorrow will be the beginning of my workroom and the little hospital. My heart and soul need for this barn to be finished so I can start my next chapter of my farm. Thank you Troy for all of your hardwork!
Speaking of the hospital, Victoria is doing great. She has been back down in the coop for over a week now, and is having no further impaction issues. I tried telling her today just how lucky she was, and she cocked her head up at me and sqwaked. I don't speak chicken, (surprising I know,) but I think she said "thank you".
Monday, January 31, 2011
Cat piss and the Garden Preacher
Well, mom and I went to our vegetable planning planting class, and I was shocked how many people were there! I would say about 30. Before the class started, my mom had the forethought to sit us by the pellet stove. I appreciated it. It was a little chilly in the building. People were filing in, (I'm almost positive I was the youngest there by about ten years,) and who sat down on the other side of my mom?? You guessed it. The humming guy who smelled like cat piss who was in my Farmer class. The one who I was supposed to present after so my presentation would be stellar? I immediately told my mom to avoid eye contact. She and an empty chair were between him and I...but it was only minutes later when he leaned across the empty chair AND her to say, "Hey I know you!" I politely smiled, (because that's what true farmers do.) He referred to me as the chicken farmer, and asked how the girls were doing...I made some brief, YET POSITIVE, reply as I turned my head in another direction like I heard someone call my name or as if I saw Elvis. Fortunately the class started then, and the Garden Preacher came out. Now this guy was wearing old pinstriped overalls, like the ones I picture train conductors wearing in the old days. He had on a flannel shirt that was red and green plaid with blue and yellow plaid sleeves. And a huge denim bucket hat...or maybe it was a fisherman's hat on his head. He looked like one of the huge bears from the Country Bear Jamboree with a white beard, that stole Punky Brewster's flannel. The room became quiet, and he raised his hand in the air. "The daily temperature that you see on tv, is NOT the temperature of your ground.***long pause*** And the soil type in the Willamette Valley is NOT the same as here in Mason County." CAN I HEAR AN AMEN?! Ok...he didn't say that, but I did in my head...after every thing he said. He was preachin...about dirt, and temperature, and weather. After his short sermon, we heard from two other Master Gardeners. They were great and really informative. Sure I want to have a vegetable garden, but I don't see that happening this year. But I have time. In the final words of the Garden Preacher, "Take this time to PLAN YOUR GARDEN FOLKS...Read your seed packets. Only YOU can control what happens in your garden, and only YOU can speak from your own experiences in your garden. Each person and their garden is different!" HALLELUJAH! PRAISE BIG TALL AND STUDLY! AMEN!
Victoria also went out to the coop Saturday. Some of the others started challenging her right away to re-establish the pecking order. I wanted to break it up, but knew it was a part of her going back.
Victoria also went out to the coop Saturday. Some of the others started challenging her right away to re-establish the pecking order. I wanted to break it up, but knew it was a part of her going back.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Ideas, Realizations and Easter eggs...
Good morning all! Today I start my series of 6 classes with my mom...(HI MOM *waving*) As I mentioned before, today's class is about Vegetable Garden Basics: Planning, site needs, raised beds & seed selection. I can't wait, and I'm sure I will buy something cool while I'm there!
Today is the day Victoria is going back to the coop! The wound on her chest looks like a tiny dried up umbilical cord, which is so much better than the 2 inch jagged tear it was. :) She also has way too much energy for me to keep her in the house anymore. Everytime I bend over to clean her kennel out, she tries to jump on my back, or my head...not really sure what that's about. A chicken hug maybe? She thinks she's a parrot? So today is the day for Victoria, and I will get my room back...
Having Victoria here, Wynnona before her, and all 26 of the babies before that, has given me the idea for a "hospital" in the barn. I am going to make the last stall in the barn a sanitized room that will house the kennels, have a big counter, room for medications and supplies, and room for baby chicks or turkeys or whatever. That way when someone is sick, they can be separated from the flock or whatever, but not be in my room. And all of the supplies will be in one spot. Does that mean I won't have baby goats in my room when they come home??? Absolutely not, don't be ridiculous....I'm going to love them, and hug them, and squeeze them, and make them my very own!
While on the topic of the barn, I've made some decisions recently...and while they are personal to me, they are part of this journey of mine, so I felt I would share.... When I first started this blog of "I ride my own white horse," it was about P and I doing this on our own. And it has been a humbling experience and lesson for me to ask for help when I need it. But one I am coming to enjoy with all of the people who are eager to make this place wonderful...and badass. (That means totally great for those of you who need a translation.) Anyway, the barn was to be our project, and I have found that it isn't the same being down there. In fact, working on it without Crabby Patty is sad and depressing. But I need a finished barn. So I've made the decision to hire the work out, and have someone come finish it for me. That way I can focus my time elsewhere. And ok, ok, so I know my barn will never fall down. Not that I couldn't have made it sturdy!!! AND so it can be done in a few weeks, and not in 6 months. That's what this year is all about for me....Sure it is extrememly rewarding to look at something and know that it was my blood, sweat and tears that went in to it. Is it less rewarding to look at something that was done in a quarter of the time knowing my money went into it instead? Ha! That made me giggle...
Anyway, I have a feeling this year will be full of lessons for me...but so far, they are all good.
Last week I got my first order of eggs for Easter....???? Really??? Someone wants to buy my eggs to color for Easter? Weird, but ok. Gather around fellow farm folks, and pull up the nearest hay bale...I am about to teach you something really cool. There is a chicken named an Araucauna, who lays colored eggs. The eggs are all different shades of green and blue. (I'm not shitting you.) So these chickens are also called "Easter egg chickens". Hello? You in the back row? Did you just flip me off????? I'm not making this up, and that is totally unfarmerly behavior! Here, I'll prove it. http://www.mcmurrayhatchery.com/araucanas_americanas.html Someone get that dude a beer...
I AM A FARM GIRL...AND I DO RIDE MY OWN WHITE HORSE.
Today is the day Victoria is going back to the coop! The wound on her chest looks like a tiny dried up umbilical cord, which is so much better than the 2 inch jagged tear it was. :) She also has way too much energy for me to keep her in the house anymore. Everytime I bend over to clean her kennel out, she tries to jump on my back, or my head...not really sure what that's about. A chicken hug maybe? She thinks she's a parrot? So today is the day for Victoria, and I will get my room back...
Having Victoria here, Wynnona before her, and all 26 of the babies before that, has given me the idea for a "hospital" in the barn. I am going to make the last stall in the barn a sanitized room that will house the kennels, have a big counter, room for medications and supplies, and room for baby chicks or turkeys or whatever. That way when someone is sick, they can be separated from the flock or whatever, but not be in my room. And all of the supplies will be in one spot. Does that mean I won't have baby goats in my room when they come home??? Absolutely not, don't be ridiculous....I'm going to love them, and hug them, and squeeze them, and make them my very own!
While on the topic of the barn, I've made some decisions recently...and while they are personal to me, they are part of this journey of mine, so I felt I would share.... When I first started this blog of "I ride my own white horse," it was about P and I doing this on our own. And it has been a humbling experience and lesson for me to ask for help when I need it. But one I am coming to enjoy with all of the people who are eager to make this place wonderful...and badass. (That means totally great for those of you who need a translation.) Anyway, the barn was to be our project, and I have found that it isn't the same being down there. In fact, working on it without Crabby Patty is sad and depressing. But I need a finished barn. So I've made the decision to hire the work out, and have someone come finish it for me. That way I can focus my time elsewhere. And ok, ok, so I know my barn will never fall down. Not that I couldn't have made it sturdy!!! AND so it can be done in a few weeks, and not in 6 months. That's what this year is all about for me....Sure it is extrememly rewarding to look at something and know that it was my blood, sweat and tears that went in to it. Is it less rewarding to look at something that was done in a quarter of the time knowing my money went into it instead? Ha! That made me giggle...
Anyway, I have a feeling this year will be full of lessons for me...but so far, they are all good.
Last week I got my first order of eggs for Easter....???? Really??? Someone wants to buy my eggs to color for Easter? Weird, but ok. Gather around fellow farm folks, and pull up the nearest hay bale...I am about to teach you something really cool. There is a chicken named an Araucauna, who lays colored eggs. The eggs are all different shades of green and blue. (I'm not shitting you.) So these chickens are also called "Easter egg chickens". Hello? You in the back row? Did you just flip me off????? I'm not making this up, and that is totally unfarmerly behavior! Here, I'll prove it. http://www.mcmurrayhatchery.com/araucanas_americanas.html Someone get that dude a beer...
I AM A FARM GIRL...AND I DO RIDE MY OWN WHITE HORSE.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Simple Pleasures
After a week of everything going wrong, its such a sweet thing for something to go right....
After work I went out to see Dixie. She hasn't been running since September. Last time she was driven, she started riding really hard...(perverts), and dying when she came to a stop.. I've asked a couple of guys at work for ideas to fix her, and when I got home today, I gave it a shot. I popped the hood and looked at all of her hoses. I only saw two out in front that were easily accessible. I pushed them both in. One was tight, and the other one pushed in about an 1/8th of an inch. I figured I'd try to start her not believing that an 1/8th of an inch would make a difference. Well, she started on the third try, and ROARED!!!! That's my girl.
I ran her for about a half hour, and she didn't sputter out once. I wiped her down, (mold had taken over the steering wheel,) and turned on the heater. Tomorrow I am going to drive her around the lake to make sure she is good...If all goes well, I'm back in business. I foresee days of driving her around with the window down and the music cranked. Sweet bliss here I come.
Vickie hasn't returned to the coop yet. She had a hard time digesting the straight food, so I am introducing it a little more gradually. She should be good to go this weekend. Lucky chicken.
This Saturday, my mom and I are starting a series of classes put on by the Master Gardeners of Mason County. We are soooo excited! It is hosted by Kirsten, who taught my farm class.
Our first class is on seed selection and raised beds. I can't wait. Thanks mom for joining me. Two heads are better than one.
I also think I am going to tear down the walls of my bathroom this weekend. Therapy and accomplishing something...you just can't beat that!
Life is good...and I'm where I belong...doing what I should.
After work I went out to see Dixie. She hasn't been running since September. Last time she was driven, she started riding really hard...(perverts), and dying when she came to a stop.. I've asked a couple of guys at work for ideas to fix her, and when I got home today, I gave it a shot. I popped the hood and looked at all of her hoses. I only saw two out in front that were easily accessible. I pushed them both in. One was tight, and the other one pushed in about an 1/8th of an inch. I figured I'd try to start her not believing that an 1/8th of an inch would make a difference. Well, she started on the third try, and ROARED!!!! That's my girl.
I ran her for about a half hour, and she didn't sputter out once. I wiped her down, (mold had taken over the steering wheel,) and turned on the heater. Tomorrow I am going to drive her around the lake to make sure she is good...If all goes well, I'm back in business. I foresee days of driving her around with the window down and the music cranked. Sweet bliss here I come.
Vickie hasn't returned to the coop yet. She had a hard time digesting the straight food, so I am introducing it a little more gradually. She should be good to go this weekend. Lucky chicken.
This Saturday, my mom and I are starting a series of classes put on by the Master Gardeners of Mason County. We are soooo excited! It is hosted by Kirsten, who taught my farm class.
Our first class is on seed selection and raised beds. I can't wait. Thanks mom for joining me. Two heads are better than one.
I also think I am going to tear down the walls of my bathroom this weekend. Therapy and accomplishing something...you just can't beat that!
Life is good...and I'm where I belong...doing what I should.
Friday, January 21, 2011
The plan
Now that Big Tall and Studly and I are on the same page, I'm moving forward. The weather is still crappy for the most part, and I have no idea if we will be getting anymore snow.
I have put a deposit on two Nigerian Dwarf Does who I am supposed to get around my birthday at the end of April. You guessed it...they need a home. Their pen needs to be fenced, the back side of the barn needs to be re-done,and the inside needs to be framed and sheeted. I've received several offers for help and I've decided that so others can share in the magic of my farm, the first step is to let people be involved. So its on...
Also I am planning on starting my Bourbon Red turkeys this year. The minimum I can order is 15, and I think I will start with that to see how it goes. They also need a pen, but their home will be included with the remodel of the back of the barn.
Besides the girls, thats the animal plan for the year.
Any ideas for goat names? I will entertain all ideas. :)
I'm excited about the farm this year. I hope to finish the barn, plant a few more fruit trees, and get some fence up.
It is a new personal lesson for me to be able to acknowledge that I can use some help getting things going out here....but also a gift to realize so many want to be a part of my dream. And that's what Chasing Butterflies Farm is going to be about. Following dreams, and experiencing the magic.
Thank you to all of you who have offered to lend a hand...weither with a paint brush, to dig holes, put in posts or to help love all of my babies. You'll be hearing from me soon.
~Becky
I have put a deposit on two Nigerian Dwarf Does who I am supposed to get around my birthday at the end of April. You guessed it...they need a home. Their pen needs to be fenced, the back side of the barn needs to be re-done,and the inside needs to be framed and sheeted. I've received several offers for help and I've decided that so others can share in the magic of my farm, the first step is to let people be involved. So its on...
Also I am planning on starting my Bourbon Red turkeys this year. The minimum I can order is 15, and I think I will start with that to see how it goes. They also need a pen, but their home will be included with the remodel of the back of the barn.
Besides the girls, thats the animal plan for the year.
Any ideas for goat names? I will entertain all ideas. :)
I'm excited about the farm this year. I hope to finish the barn, plant a few more fruit trees, and get some fence up.
It is a new personal lesson for me to be able to acknowledge that I can use some help getting things going out here....but also a gift to realize so many want to be a part of my dream. And that's what Chasing Butterflies Farm is going to be about. Following dreams, and experiencing the magic.
Thank you to all of you who have offered to lend a hand...weither with a paint brush, to dig holes, put in posts or to help love all of my babies. You'll be hearing from me soon.
~Becky
The last week...
It's Friday night, and I'm pondering my 2011 so far...
Victoria is doing better. Her wound on her chest herniated, because her chest ballooned again. I was able to wrap her up, and I must admit...I can't believe she is alive. After a week of soft food, more throwing up and daily first aid she is rockin and rolling. Tonight is her first night of solid food and her wound is almost completely healed. A nickle sized amount of whatever herniated has healed outside her body. So she will be the only chicken with a belly button. And it's an outie. I've heard I should have killed her...all week...and there honestly was a point when I thought I would need to. But she had such a fighting spirit. She didn't want to die. So hopefully come next week, Victoria will be back in the coop and we will not be room mates anymore.
Two days after I found Matilda I found another dead chicken down in the coop. I was so angry because I had checked all of them the night before to make sure they were well...they all had bright eyes, nice red combs and wattles...no one else had an impaction. And yet there she was...one of my buff orpingtons. It had to have been Butter or Jelly...I refuse to believe it was Peanut who I am quite fond of, but I honestly can't tell them apart. Anyway she was found under the highest perch in the coop and had no obvious marks on her. Rigamortis had already set in and her legs were straight out and her neck was bent backwards. After doing some research online, it turns out chickens can easily be spooked, causing a heart attack or stroke. And they can fall right off their perches and break their necks. I looked and looked for over an hour, and this happened to several people. And when found, their hens looked just like mine.
I took it really hard. Having just lost Matilda, Victoria barely hanging on to life in my room, and now Butter was dead. I felt like I was doing something wrong... I decided to withhold the chicken's eggs for a week just in case it was something wrong with the entire flock. I hated throwing the eggs away knowing they were perfectly good, but I couldn't take chances. I also made the decision that if I lost another chicken, I would send it to the University for a necropsy. That's what they call a little chicken autopsy. But I knew in my gut the two deaths were unrelated.
Yesterday when I got home, I found my dog Bubba in his kennel, and his entire head and neck were covered with blood. There was so much blood, I couldn't see what was bleeding...where the wound was. Him and Belle have a 20x30 foot kennel made of chain link fence, and it is 6' high. Not just anything could have gotten him. I thought maybe Belle did it while they were wrestling or playing, which they often do. But Belle didn't have a drop of blood on her. I brought them in, and started to clean Bubba up. He had a tear in his ear over an inch long, and the end of his ear was just flopping around. He also had several scratches on his nose, and some kind of flesh wound on his cheek. I cleaned him up, and asked him what happened....he just looked at me. I don't know if it was a raccoon that he cornered or what, but him and I decided to go with the story that he fought off a bear...at least that's what he is telling all of his friends.
I feel as if God, or whatever higher power that is watching over me is trying to prove something to me. Ever since P left for somewhere the grass is greener, it seems as if I have been thrown challenge after challenge. The flood, the sick and dead animals...Is it that someone up there somewhere wants to prove to me that I can handle all of this on my own? If that's the case, "HEY BIG TALL AND STUDLY IN THE SKY!!! I KNEW I COULD HANDLE THIS ON MY OWN!!!" Sigh. I guess if I had any doubts they were covered...him and I are on the same page now.
Victoria is doing better. Her wound on her chest herniated, because her chest ballooned again. I was able to wrap her up, and I must admit...I can't believe she is alive. After a week of soft food, more throwing up and daily first aid she is rockin and rolling. Tonight is her first night of solid food and her wound is almost completely healed. A nickle sized amount of whatever herniated has healed outside her body. So she will be the only chicken with a belly button. And it's an outie. I've heard I should have killed her...all week...and there honestly was a point when I thought I would need to. But she had such a fighting spirit. She didn't want to die. So hopefully come next week, Victoria will be back in the coop and we will not be room mates anymore.
Two days after I found Matilda I found another dead chicken down in the coop. I was so angry because I had checked all of them the night before to make sure they were well...they all had bright eyes, nice red combs and wattles...no one else had an impaction. And yet there she was...one of my buff orpingtons. It had to have been Butter or Jelly...I refuse to believe it was Peanut who I am quite fond of, but I honestly can't tell them apart. Anyway she was found under the highest perch in the coop and had no obvious marks on her. Rigamortis had already set in and her legs were straight out and her neck was bent backwards. After doing some research online, it turns out chickens can easily be spooked, causing a heart attack or stroke. And they can fall right off their perches and break their necks. I looked and looked for over an hour, and this happened to several people. And when found, their hens looked just like mine.
I took it really hard. Having just lost Matilda, Victoria barely hanging on to life in my room, and now Butter was dead. I felt like I was doing something wrong... I decided to withhold the chicken's eggs for a week just in case it was something wrong with the entire flock. I hated throwing the eggs away knowing they were perfectly good, but I couldn't take chances. I also made the decision that if I lost another chicken, I would send it to the University for a necropsy. That's what they call a little chicken autopsy. But I knew in my gut the two deaths were unrelated.
Yesterday when I got home, I found my dog Bubba in his kennel, and his entire head and neck were covered with blood. There was so much blood, I couldn't see what was bleeding...where the wound was. Him and Belle have a 20x30 foot kennel made of chain link fence, and it is 6' high. Not just anything could have gotten him. I thought maybe Belle did it while they were wrestling or playing, which they often do. But Belle didn't have a drop of blood on her. I brought them in, and started to clean Bubba up. He had a tear in his ear over an inch long, and the end of his ear was just flopping around. He also had several scratches on his nose, and some kind of flesh wound on his cheek. I cleaned him up, and asked him what happened....he just looked at me. I don't know if it was a raccoon that he cornered or what, but him and I decided to go with the story that he fought off a bear...at least that's what he is telling all of his friends.
I feel as if God, or whatever higher power that is watching over me is trying to prove something to me. Ever since P left for somewhere the grass is greener, it seems as if I have been thrown challenge after challenge. The flood, the sick and dead animals...Is it that someone up there somewhere wants to prove to me that I can handle all of this on my own? If that's the case, "HEY BIG TALL AND STUDLY IN THE SKY!!! I KNEW I COULD HANDLE THIS ON MY OWN!!!" Sigh. I guess if I had any doubts they were covered...him and I are on the same page now.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
A rough day on the farm...
Sigh...where do I start? Vickie is starting to look better. I noticed yesterday when I went to massage her crop, that it was split wide open on her chest. I don't know if she pecked at it, clawed it with her foot, or if it just split because it ballooned too big. But part of her crop was hanging out, and the whole thing was a bloody matted mess. Her feathers stuck to it, and it was hard to clean. I cut away feathers with scissors to try to keep the area clean. For the most part she held perfectly still. Her ballooning had completely gone away, (I'm guessing the throwing up helped,) and she had a baseball sized mass in her throat...I'm guessing the blockage. I wrapped her in a towel, and laid her on her back. I had nothing to stitch her up, and the opening, (about 2 inches around) was so jagged and feather matted, I wasn't sure where to start. I thought about what MY mom would have done if it were me, and I poured hydrogen peroxide on it... ok ok...that's NOT what my mom would have done, but I figured it was a start. I wrapped her with a towel around her chest, so she couldn't get to it. Then I took her to the sink and washed her feet. That way if she did claw at it, it wouldn't be getting dirty. The closest thing I could grab was my Burts Bees shower gel. I could tell the citrus scent made her feel energized. After I dried her feet off, I put her in a laundry hamper on my bed and just watched her for awhile. Her eyes were closed so long I thought she died. Then she opened them and decided she didn't want to be wrapped in a towel. So I wrapped her again, (successfully after 4 tries) and put her to sleep in her kennel. I prayed she would be alive this morning.
This morning she was out of her towel again, and she hadn't eaten any of her applesauce that I snuck mineral oil into. It was 4 in the morning, and I tried to give her some oil before I went to work. She clamped her jaw shut, and wasn't having any of it. I once again thought, "What would my mom do?" So I moved the eyedropper like an airplane and sang, "There was a bee, up in a tree, and down it came..." Thank God chickens can't talk. Because she looked at me like "Are you f*ing kidding me?!" I checked her chest again, and wrapped her up before I went to work.
I spent the day certain I was going to have to stitch her up tonight. She seemed to be gaining at least a tiny bit of energy, but she still wasn't passing her blockage, and I couldn't massage her crop anymore with her chest ripped open.
I went to work, (I know...today is Saturday,) and on my way out, I tripped going up a flight of concrete stairs. I scratched my hand and it bled a little, and landed hard on my left knee. Thank God no one saw! I hobbled to my tahoe and headed home. I didn't even want to look at my knee. And even though it was throbbing, there was no way in hell I was going to go to the doctor, because it's been awhile since I've shaved my legs...
So I got home and went right down to the coop. Son of a B*tch. (No not butch). The other chicken that hadn't been doing well was dead in the corner of the coop. I'm so pissed at myself for not bringing her up to the house too. She looked like she was hanging in there...and Victoria was so much worse. Looked like she just fell asleep and didn't wake up. I think the cold was too much for her...she had looked fine and was eating and drinking...she just seemed a little down on her energy. I could kick myself right now. I really think I could have saved her. :( Sigh...she didn't really have a name...but I feel I need to give her one. Rest in Peace Matilda. I'm sorry I didn't help you sooner...
So I drove up to the house thinking if Victoria was dead, that I was going to flip. I went into my bedroom, and I was relieved to hear her start sqwaking at me. I picked her up, and it felt like her obstruction was shrinking. I looked in the kennel, and sure enough there were a few really solid poops, and some masses of what looked like grass. She explored my bedroom while I cleaned the kennel. I told her about Matilda while I cleaned her water... Vickie didn't say anything in return. When I turned around to see why she was so quiet, I found her head in the food bag. I ran over to her, and picked her up. Real chicken food could cause her to become impacted again! I set up a little operating table and wrapped her up in a towel so I could look at her chest. She held very still while I cut away more feathers. The size of the wound had gone down a significant amount with the shrinking of her crop. It had also scabbed over, with feathers imbedded in various parts of the scab. I didn't want it to get infected, so I pulled most of it off, and cleaned it with the solution we had got for Wynnona's toe. I then put the ointment on it that we had left over from Wynnona. I sang her "Little Lamb," a song my mom used to sing me, hoping it would soothe her...Either she was soothed, or she was nervous about my scissor skills, because she held perfectly still.
When I was done, I gave her a special mash consisting of hot water, her chicken feed, and yes...mineral oil...
She fell for it, because she quickly gobbled it all up. She is 100 times better than she was yesterday. A lot more energy...and a perkier disposition. I think she will make it.
Today was a rough day on the farm...but tomorrow is a new day. My knee is throbbing, so I am going to hit the hay...to help the new day get here a little faster.
RIP Matilda...down to 25.
This morning she was out of her towel again, and she hadn't eaten any of her applesauce that I snuck mineral oil into. It was 4 in the morning, and I tried to give her some oil before I went to work. She clamped her jaw shut, and wasn't having any of it. I once again thought, "What would my mom do?" So I moved the eyedropper like an airplane and sang, "There was a bee, up in a tree, and down it came..." Thank God chickens can't talk. Because she looked at me like "Are you f*ing kidding me?!" I checked her chest again, and wrapped her up before I went to work.
I spent the day certain I was going to have to stitch her up tonight. She seemed to be gaining at least a tiny bit of energy, but she still wasn't passing her blockage, and I couldn't massage her crop anymore with her chest ripped open.
I went to work, (I know...today is Saturday,) and on my way out, I tripped going up a flight of concrete stairs. I scratched my hand and it bled a little, and landed hard on my left knee. Thank God no one saw! I hobbled to my tahoe and headed home. I didn't even want to look at my knee. And even though it was throbbing, there was no way in hell I was going to go to the doctor, because it's been awhile since I've shaved my legs...
So I got home and went right down to the coop. Son of a B*tch. (No not butch). The other chicken that hadn't been doing well was dead in the corner of the coop. I'm so pissed at myself for not bringing her up to the house too. She looked like she was hanging in there...and Victoria was so much worse. Looked like she just fell asleep and didn't wake up. I think the cold was too much for her...she had looked fine and was eating and drinking...she just seemed a little down on her energy. I could kick myself right now. I really think I could have saved her. :( Sigh...she didn't really have a name...but I feel I need to give her one. Rest in Peace Matilda. I'm sorry I didn't help you sooner...
So I drove up to the house thinking if Victoria was dead, that I was going to flip. I went into my bedroom, and I was relieved to hear her start sqwaking at me. I picked her up, and it felt like her obstruction was shrinking. I looked in the kennel, and sure enough there were a few really solid poops, and some masses of what looked like grass. She explored my bedroom while I cleaned the kennel. I told her about Matilda while I cleaned her water... Vickie didn't say anything in return. When I turned around to see why she was so quiet, I found her head in the food bag. I ran over to her, and picked her up. Real chicken food could cause her to become impacted again! I set up a little operating table and wrapped her up in a towel so I could look at her chest. She held very still while I cut away more feathers. The size of the wound had gone down a significant amount with the shrinking of her crop. It had also scabbed over, with feathers imbedded in various parts of the scab. I didn't want it to get infected, so I pulled most of it off, and cleaned it with the solution we had got for Wynnona's toe. I then put the ointment on it that we had left over from Wynnona. I sang her "Little Lamb," a song my mom used to sing me, hoping it would soothe her...Either she was soothed, or she was nervous about my scissor skills, because she held perfectly still.
When I was done, I gave her a special mash consisting of hot water, her chicken feed, and yes...mineral oil...
She fell for it, because she quickly gobbled it all up. She is 100 times better than she was yesterday. A lot more energy...and a perkier disposition. I think she will make it.
Today was a rough day on the farm...but tomorrow is a new day. My knee is throbbing, so I am going to hit the hay...to help the new day get here a little faster.
RIP Matilda...down to 25.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Paging Dr. Bianco...come in Dr. Bianco
The last few days, I've noticed two of the girls not doing so hot. And they both look like they have different things going on.
One of them, the only speckled sussex I have left, Victoria, (named after the vampire, not the queen,) looks awful...poor baby. She is all puffed up, and her face looks like she just wants to die. So I picked her up last night, and her entire chest felt like a water balloon...it wasn't solid, and it was the size of a grapefruit. She was practically dragging it last night when I picked her up. So I put her in a carrier, and brought her up to the farm hospital...my bedroom. I made her comfortable, and then got online to try to find out what was going on. At least with Wynonna, it was obviously her toe. I was worried, "ballooned chest on chicken," wouldn't get me too far on google. Fortunately I was wrong...
A ballooned chest on a chicken can mean one of three things, and fortunately they can all be treated the same way...The first is called "Pendulum crop" which means gas or food have built up in the crop so much that the muscles relax, and never go back...kind of like boobs after breast feeding. Another is sour crop, which is a build-up of yeast in the crop by a vitamin deficiency, and that also causes gas that balloons the crop. The last possibility, which I think Victoria may have is impacted crop. Which can be caused by eating too fast. Maybe she needs a special bowl like we have for our dogs. Bubba eats so fast he'll start gagging on the food. Anyway, Vickie must have eaten food to fast, and now has a blockage...and the lack of moisture prevents it from moving down into the gizzard. Kind of like a person eating a package of saltines with no water...
So treatment...I LOVE the different threads online by chicken lovers...I guess impacted crop is a common problem, and most of the solutions were the same.
1) Remove all food from the chicken because by eating, they will just continue to add to the backup.
2) Provide plenty of water, with a touch of apple cider vinegar....this will perk up a down chicken.
**From here on out, its kind of graphic...so don't read this while eating...or thinking about eating for that matter.**
3) Pick up the chicken, and hold it upside down. (I'm not kidding.) This will make the chicken start to vomit.
So I did it. I picked her up, and held her upside down over an old towel. Poor baby started to throw up. Too bad inducing vomiting isn't that easy for other animals and people. People would be standing on their heads instead of putting their fingers down their throats...
Anyway, it was all liquid, and she just opened her little beak and it started flowing. And my God did it stink...this sour putrid smell. I wanted to throw up myself, but the towel wasn't big enough for the both of us. I held her right side up, and massaged her crop a little bit. The "balloon" had gone down by about half. I put her in her kennel, and she began to drink water. I gave her a little break and went to do more research.
After about 15 minutes, I came back and did it again. Just a little more this time.
I read online that there are only two ways of removing the impaction...surgically cutting the crop open, or inserting a tube down the chicken's throat and pouring mineral oil down the tube. Then massage the crop to loosen the impaction, and next time you put the chicken upside down, it should start to come out with help from me, the lovely assistant. Then they should go on a diet of soft foods for a week before returning to the flock.
So this is where I am at today. I tried giving her applesauce with vegetable oil, to see if she would EAT the oil, instead of me pouring it down her throat. She didn't look good this morning, but if she can make it till I can get home, the tube feeding will be next. If I can save Vicki, I surely can do anything? One more badge for my sash...
One of them, the only speckled sussex I have left, Victoria, (named after the vampire, not the queen,) looks awful...poor baby. She is all puffed up, and her face looks like she just wants to die. So I picked her up last night, and her entire chest felt like a water balloon...it wasn't solid, and it was the size of a grapefruit. She was practically dragging it last night when I picked her up. So I put her in a carrier, and brought her up to the farm hospital...my bedroom. I made her comfortable, and then got online to try to find out what was going on. At least with Wynonna, it was obviously her toe. I was worried, "ballooned chest on chicken," wouldn't get me too far on google. Fortunately I was wrong...
A ballooned chest on a chicken can mean one of three things, and fortunately they can all be treated the same way...The first is called "Pendulum crop" which means gas or food have built up in the crop so much that the muscles relax, and never go back...kind of like boobs after breast feeding. Another is sour crop, which is a build-up of yeast in the crop by a vitamin deficiency, and that also causes gas that balloons the crop. The last possibility, which I think Victoria may have is impacted crop. Which can be caused by eating too fast. Maybe she needs a special bowl like we have for our dogs. Bubba eats so fast he'll start gagging on the food. Anyway, Vickie must have eaten food to fast, and now has a blockage...and the lack of moisture prevents it from moving down into the gizzard. Kind of like a person eating a package of saltines with no water...
So treatment...I LOVE the different threads online by chicken lovers...I guess impacted crop is a common problem, and most of the solutions were the same.
1) Remove all food from the chicken because by eating, they will just continue to add to the backup.
2) Provide plenty of water, with a touch of apple cider vinegar....this will perk up a down chicken.
**From here on out, its kind of graphic...so don't read this while eating...or thinking about eating for that matter.**
3) Pick up the chicken, and hold it upside down. (I'm not kidding.) This will make the chicken start to vomit.
So I did it. I picked her up, and held her upside down over an old towel. Poor baby started to throw up. Too bad inducing vomiting isn't that easy for other animals and people. People would be standing on their heads instead of putting their fingers down their throats...
Anyway, it was all liquid, and she just opened her little beak and it started flowing. And my God did it stink...this sour putrid smell. I wanted to throw up myself, but the towel wasn't big enough for the both of us. I held her right side up, and massaged her crop a little bit. The "balloon" had gone down by about half. I put her in her kennel, and she began to drink water. I gave her a little break and went to do more research.
After about 15 minutes, I came back and did it again. Just a little more this time.
I read online that there are only two ways of removing the impaction...surgically cutting the crop open, or inserting a tube down the chicken's throat and pouring mineral oil down the tube. Then massage the crop to loosen the impaction, and next time you put the chicken upside down, it should start to come out with help from me, the lovely assistant. Then they should go on a diet of soft foods for a week before returning to the flock.
So this is where I am at today. I tried giving her applesauce with vegetable oil, to see if she would EAT the oil, instead of me pouring it down her throat. She didn't look good this morning, but if she can make it till I can get home, the tube feeding will be next. If I can save Vicki, I surely can do anything? One more badge for my sash...
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Something to ponder...
This last Monday, I was on my way to work at 5 something in the morning. I was trying to pump myself up to go back, after ten days off...secretly counting the 300 and something plus more days until I would have 10 days off again. "Think about all the people without jobs," I thought to myself..."that would trade you places right now in a heartbeat..." I straightened in the driver's seat peering into the dark on my way to what provided the roof over my head...the heat in my home, and the food in Mariah's and my mouth...
A story came on the radio about a woman who had cancer. She called her story "We all have an expiration date." It was about living life to the fullest, because you never know what tomorrow will bring. Tell your loved ones you love them. Call the ones you've been meaning to, but figured you would later get around to it. Jump out of that plane...go on that trip... Like the song says, "Live like you were dying".
I found out the same day that a very near and dear friend of mine found out her 5 year old son has Leukemia. One day they were all at home as a family, and the next day their world was turned upside down, and he was in a hospital receiving chemo. And you thought you had a rough day??? Just remember...when life gets tough...kick it in the ass. Rise above it and give it all youve got. Somebody somewhere has things a lot tougher than you do. Life is what YOU make it. Don't be a victim to circumstance. Little Hunter is kicking Leukemia's ass....
Give today 100%. And if you are lucky enough to open your eyes tomorrow. Give tomorrow 100%.
Isn't there someone you should be calling right now???
We all have an expiration date.
A story came on the radio about a woman who had cancer. She called her story "We all have an expiration date." It was about living life to the fullest, because you never know what tomorrow will bring. Tell your loved ones you love them. Call the ones you've been meaning to, but figured you would later get around to it. Jump out of that plane...go on that trip... Like the song says, "Live like you were dying".
I found out the same day that a very near and dear friend of mine found out her 5 year old son has Leukemia. One day they were all at home as a family, and the next day their world was turned upside down, and he was in a hospital receiving chemo. And you thought you had a rough day??? Just remember...when life gets tough...kick it in the ass. Rise above it and give it all youve got. Somebody somewhere has things a lot tougher than you do. Life is what YOU make it. Don't be a victim to circumstance. Little Hunter is kicking Leukemia's ass....
Give today 100%. And if you are lucky enough to open your eyes tomorrow. Give tomorrow 100%.
Isn't there someone you should be calling right now???
We all have an expiration date.
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