Saturday, May 14, 2011

blogger flogger

I have been working in the barn all day. I had to clean out a stall for Deer because she is definitely with a kid. I have to keep her in the stall  in case she kids at night. Her milk bag is getting big and she s getting wide.  I am hoping for a doe-ling, as I want another milker and lord knows, one buck is enough. At least for me.

I cleaned up the mucky mess Sling Blade makes. Mud everywhere. He likes to tip over the water buckets. By the way, his stub, or what used to be his tail is getting better. I still think that Earl the Donkey bit it off. Earl is super gentle with us, so I am guessing Sling was being a pain. He was being a pain today while I was trying to work. Shovel up a bucket, he comes and knocks it over. After awhile I gave hm a swat on the butt to get him to move. He didn't flinch. His butt, after all, is like two big ole hams. We may eat him. Organic pork with love.

My chickens are doing great. The new free roamers (my president day chickens) are doing well. Only once in a while I have to go out and remind my Rhode Island Red rooster to chill out. I think he is trying to mate with them, but he is definitely not a romantic. Plus, I am pretty sure they think they are being attacked. If you have seen a rooster jump on a hen, then you know it is very much like an attack. Also, if you have been flogged by a rooster, you know by the wounds he inflicts that it is definitely an assault. Roosters have spurs which grow like knobby knives and are actually a part of the leg bone. Old Meany Pants has gotten me plenty, once when I was bent over with my head in the rabbit hutch checking on the baby rabbits. Whop! I was so mad at him and told hm so. Sophia, now arms herself with a stick. She used to run from him, and he would chase her. Now she stands her ground ready for battle. Rusty however, can grab the rooster in one swoop. He then puts it's head under it's wing and holds the rooster gently as he moves it in a circular motion. He then slowly sets the rooster on the ground and the rooster stays that way for maybe 15 seconds. Long enough. We call it putting the rooster asleep. It works, but not n front of company for some reason.

Sophia has come up with a fun game of chicken racing. Everybody gets a chicken and stands up on the hill. When the race starts everybody lets go of their chicken and off the chickens run. First chicken past the big rock wins. In the last race Sophia's chicken went the wrong way! We cracked up and Sophia mentioned wanting to have a party. So, inspired by the great chicken race, I am thinking of a Summer Solstice party. I can't think of a better time

Tahoe's baby bunnies are doing well. They are now eating their mama's food and drink water. They are so sweet. I like to take breaks to hold the bunnies. Blue Topaz is bred, and in about a week I will set her nest. She bit me hard in the hand the other day. Bella the beagle now watches over the bunnies. She wont let another animal near them, including Earl and Sling! The other day I was stuffing paper towel tubes with hay and had left the door ajar at Blue Topaz's hutch. I went to put the roll in and Bella was in the hutch with her! Just hanging out sniffing around. She is a funny dog. Make no mistake, she owns the bunnies.

The ducks are growing so quickly! I heard a couple of quacks today. I now have eleven ducklings. Which is a good odd number. I always do odd numbers when it comes to my animals. With the ducks, I had 13 hatching, but one died in the egg, add that to Liitle Blackie and I am back to an odd number. Not that I am happy about that. I just notice signs. I think I learned it from my Chinese brother-in-law long ago when discussing how many fish to have in a tank. It also occurs to me now that I am thinking about it that odd numbers happen quite often in the natural world.  It is also a home decor rule. An artist rule as well. The eye sits better on three objects, instead of being conflicted by an even amount of objects. Maybe that is it. Just a little quirk I have.

Rusty went harvesting herbs today, while I did the barn work. He came home with a good bunch of blood root and some black cohosh. It is a good time of the moon phase for harvesting. We believe in responsible harvesting. Taking some and leaving some. We never strip out an area. We love the earth too much. I am glad he came back with the roots. I am going to try some blood root on some areas that I think are borderline skin cancers. Not like melanomas! No worries. Black cohosh is a great natural remedy for joint problems. I am plagued with them. I mostly ignore them, but sometimes when I stop, I get back in my body and feel the pain. So I will give these remedies a try. I will let you know if I see improvement.

I just noticed don't discuss certain things in here. One being my health. Except for the above mention. I may talk about some things in the future. Mostly, I would like to discuss the benefits of living life in the middle of nature and how, the land, the animals, the house, the area, all, in their own way, have healed me. Both within and out. "That which is above is the same as that which is below" that is the basis to regaining my health. People throw around the words, Body Mind and Spirit, so much it has almost become a catch phrase. But really. take them slowly first individualized, then together as a unified methodology to health. For example, you can't just eat all the right things and exercise, but still be spiritually or mentally fractured. You must stir all the pots. I need more spoons! :-)

The murder of crows are still near. 

Good night from a wonderfully sore and wildly tired...
blogger flogger

Friday, May 13, 2011

a murder

Life goes on here at the farm. I used to call it my village, because there are three houses on the property. One used to be the barn but is now a house. One the two story victorian, and the last the two story farmhouse that we live in. There are also out buildings, one is a two story red building. I had hopes to make it my studio, but now it is the barn. Then there is the green building, charming really, with a front stoop and it has a root cellar underneath it. When we bought the place there were canned fruits and veggies from the people who lived here until their death. Her death first, and then his, (Joe) not too long after.

Death came today at the farm for Lil' Blackie, one of the ducklings that hatched here. He was a runner and the last to hatch. This of course made the perfection button click in and I searched out the reason why. I posted on a duck group I belong to, searched the internet. He went so quick. So quick. I had the mush water in a tea-cup ready to force feed him when he simply threw his head back and was gone. I kept looking at him, old soul eyes open, beautiful black beaked creature. I wanted him back, and I did tiny chest compressions, hoping I could will him back. I couldn't just sit there and do nothing. Even though there was nothing I could do.

I put Lil' Blackie in an empty Kellogg's Corn Pops box. I couldn't find any other box. I though for a moment, how undignified being put in a cereal box. But then I remembered, my desperate act to revive him and my pure intentions, and heck, at least he didn't go into the Fruity Pebbles box. I laughed at my sad self. Ever do that?

I went back to the duckling day pen that I constructed the day before. I watched each duck, for any sign of sickness, or weakness. There was nothing to see but waddling little duckies drinking, eating, nibbling on the greens, splattering and pooping. All happy as could be, being ducklings. Their neighbors the teenager chicks, looking at them, like "what is all the fuss?" Ducklings are animated and all splishy-spashy all the while peeping. I had spared them seeing one their hatch-mates die by taking him to the house. I was glad they all were seemingly oblivious. I gave them more peas, and added two more water bowls, because they dirty up water faster that the speed of light, or maybe a lightning bug.

Overhead I heard a noise and circling just over the tree lines were the crows. A murder of crows. I stopped and when I saw them I took a big breath. They were there to remind me. First to breathe. But mostly, the universe pulses, it ebbs and flows and yes it works it's mysterious ways. There was nothing I could do, or I would have done it. The blackbirds come when I need them. They wake up my connection to the collective.  They makes things clear, and they are sacred. That is why I am crow.

A "murder of crows" is probably the poetic phrase, while scientist would probably call them a flock. Interesting though, of this folk name for crows and other folk names of groups of birds, insects and animals. Maybe that is why people are wary of crows. The energy that has been passed on about crows. Crows are actually extremely smart. Take a moment to look at this page at It is not a lot to read, but extremely interesting info there. Also read this page at It has some fantastic pictures. I love the crow snow angel. Anyway, I think crows are misunderstood for the most part.

I am crow. Do I feel misunderstood? No, I do not. People are going to understand what they can or want to about me. Just the same as I can only understand or want to know about somebody else. By saying I am misunderstood, is saying that you, or this person or that person is suppose to know me. I don't even know me! I am always reflecting on my floods and droughts as a woman. Writing, here is a way to get to know me. I do not use the best grammar, and I HATE to proof read, because I want the thoughts feelings and words to ebb and flow. I want this... the sound of my fingers pecking away at the keyboard fast enough to capture thought or some sort of spiritual language to be one of the ways I interact with myself, you, and the universe. See? That was a way-too-long sentence. I am not changing it. I can't unthink something then dissect it to read properly. So, I am doing my best to understand and then to be understood. That is, as far as you want to understand me. Ha!

After the crows left. I gathered my ducklings to bring inside. I was talking to them, and gave a couple of kisses. I notice my neighbor Shirl sitting on his porch. I sure do give him great shows. Just yesterday, my donkey Earl, got loose and hauled ass (no pun intended) down the mountain. I went hauling ass after him. Luckily somebody caught him and there he was being led back by a car. So funny. Of course Shirl told me that "you can't keep them dang animals in", same as he said when I got my goats. He is a sensible old man. I have said it before, but I like him a whole lot. I know he must get a kick out of me and my animal circus. That is what I thought at least as I was kissing my ducklings then placing them in the transport bin. I am a darn fool woman. Proud of it.

I came in the house, and tucked in the duckings in the brooder and checked in with the duck group online. Nicky had posted and pretty much told me what the murder of crows did. She said:
"Aaaaah poor Blackie. Some babies just aren't as rigorous as the others and maybe it was Mother Nature doing her thing. Keep them on the niacin and the chick starter and grass. It could of been anything that got blackie, maybe he just wasn't cut out to be in the world but he at least got a glimpse of it and had a good home while he was here..."
That is what the crows told me. But Nicky speaks English and it was so comforting to hear it again. Plus, the universe didn't mention anything about duck care. I sure do like Nicky too.

I am going to the river now, and send Lil' Blackie back to the earth. Minus the cereal box.
Until next time, little one...

blackie (still wet) joins his peeps

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

old and new

Slowly, I will be bringing bits and pieces from my old blog, to here, my new blog. I am closing the other blog, but wanted to share some of what I wrote, here, with you. Enjoy, ~crow

at 10
you called me,
mama still--
my sweet son
red with freckles
hearing your feats
almost a man
you want it so
a young buck
learning from you dad
oh what I would do
having you under my roof
safe, young, protected
don't grow away from me
stay, with me little, twinkling
brown eye boy,
like your mama's
my little buddy
at 4
you said you wanted to marry me
at 6
you would live with me forever
at 10
live next door with your wife
at 15
you will visit me this summer
plans of  four wheeling,
dogs, swimming holes and caves
I will watch you,
just being a boy again
you and I
will awaken us again
recalling your mother
recalling my son
and we shall paint
together, you and I
we will be,
as we should
at 11
I miss you


Sunday, May 8, 2011

peeing in the pool

Mother's Day Pool Party

pool party with peas

warm day, warm water
play time
time to dry off
and eat

and poo

the law

Jealousy is a condition and love is a way of being. Both reflect the inner dialogue within you. Lack is a man-made creation. Jealousy is an emotion stemming from the illusion of lack. The Law of Attraction is how energy works in the universe; your thoughts create your reality. If you see and feel only lack, then lack will appear true for you. If you believe in love, goodness and plenty, that will be your experience.