work

I am so darn proud of myself today.

I single-handedly moved the chicken run and got everybody settled in on a fresh run of grass and there's fresh bedding in the shelter. If you have ever worked with chicken wire you know it is like wrestling with briars. This run is for my younger chickens. The first hatch are already loving life, free roaming. Free Bird-s! They have chosen to not use the coop, and instead use the small barn at night. They are a happy little young flock.

My dogs are pretty much oblivious to the free roamers, but they are not oblivious to any animal or person who steps foot on the property. Right now I have Odin, the foxhound, and Bella the beagle free roaming. They pretty much secure the perimeter. They can smell something, before they can see it. Therefor, any foxes, racoons, coyotes, racoons, weasels, or other would-be predators are scared away. Odin has marked anything and everything vertical on our property. A strange dog gets the same treatment as a wild intruder. Bella is the alarm, and Odin is the deterrent.

I now have a day pen for my ducklings. I think they are about 3 weeks old. They got a full day out in the sun and a dip in the pool. Clean duckies. Ducks are not in the least like raising chickens. They take more time and maintenance, but are so worth it! The names we have so far is Cloud, (Sophia's duckling) Storm, Sunshine and Pinky. There are two pekins that I keep getting confused with each other, so I will have to wait on them to show some personality. Brittany has now "called" the duckling with the bib and will be naming it.

Also today, I seeded cucumbers and more romaine. My other plants are lined up on my patio tables with an old barn door connecting them. I am always busy seeding, repotting and planting. The garden has sprung to life. My three rows of bush beans are way up!

Tomorrow Rusty is home. YES! We will till more space for the corn, potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, squash pole beans and the sunflowers. Oh and the rubarb patch too. Yikes.

My knees are hurting and they better heal quick. I have no time for ailments. Too much to do!

I will leave you now with a view of Rapture Day from a duckling's point of view.

pekin and indian runner ducklings

pekin and indian runner ducklings

Tomorrow is picture day!

~crow

god and jesus and zombies

What the heck is a rapture? I have read all about it, trying to get it. But I just cannot get it .It sounds all hell, fire and brimstone-ish to me. Something way out of my scope of thought and belief.

The God I know loves every person, place and thing. The God I know is a loving God, the Great Spirit from all things flow. God doesn't favor a country, a faith or a group of individualized people or a person.

I am sure if Jesus came back, he would be back because he had to straighten how badly us mortals have screwed  things up in the name of religion.

That is what I think.
~crow

And zombies, really?

Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

stuck

I so wished I had my camera today to show you how bad I got my truck stuck. Bottomed out right at the base of the mountain in a five foot ditch. Tilted sideways with the back tire still gripping the road looking painfully wrenched. I was being nice and letting somebody come down the hill as the road is narrow with a straight drop off the mountain on one side of the road, and a ditch on the other. Actually, I think it is a roadside stream.

I am nice. Like to the guy in the tan sedan who I drove off the road earlier today, and I smiled and waved. Nothing back. I know that the truck is not all shiny, new and respectable, but I am. Well, then again, looking at all three of those words I guess I am only shiny.

The one of speeding truck guys did stop and tried for a few minutes to help me, but his friend, the driver did not seem interested in helping me. So, they took off, the driver looking relieved that I said it was OK, and we would walk home. Maybe he had somewhere to go. Maybe the other guy in the sedan was feeling sick. Maybe so many things. Why be mad? I chose to be nice. I shouldn't expect an instant return, or a parade with balloons and confetti, or even a medal, or a cookie, or a chest to pin it on. Wait, I do have a chest. Medal please!

After they left I had to push the driver side door open with the strength of my whole leg. We were that tilted. I climbed out and Bella, the beagle hopped out next, happy to be let out of the truck in a new place scented with rabbits. Then my poor sweet Sophie crawled up and out. She was worried. But I told her that it was no problem. Daddy would come pull the truck out when he got home and we would have a nice walk home. On our way up the road this guy stopped. A young kid, well maybe like 20-ish. A kid to me. But he stopped and asked us if we were ok. Nice kid. I told him we were fine, but I was a bit embarrassed. He told me that he has seen lots of people stuck there. Nice kid. He asked us if we wanted a ride home. Nice kid. I told him I needed to walk off my embarrassment. Plus, it was just so nice and cool out for walking and Bella was enjoying her smells. We chatted for a little bit. He was a little shy, and I was asking him questions about his house. (It used to be the hospital here in the 1800's.) It occurred to me he looked familiar. Yes, the day Earl hauled ass down the hill, this nice kid was the one who jumped in his car when he saw a donkey running full gait down the road, tie-out attached and caught him. I thanked him profusely for that. I could see he was getting a sense of return, you know a return for the kindness. Not a parade or balloons, but a genuine shiny beam of gratitude.  I told him how much my donkey meant to me, and that I have just got him for Mother's Day and I was not sure everybody would do the same. He was a bit red faced, but beaming. I asked him his name. Darren. I told him mine and asked him if he knew where we lived. Yes. He told me it was nice to meet me and if we couldn't get the truck out that he would borrow a relative's deisel truck to yank it right out. Again I expressed my appreciation. Nice kid. I hope to meet his Mother and tell her what a good son she has.

So we continued our walk. Another truck went zooming by. I was really thankful we were walking. The air was crisp and clean and I took a bit breath, knowing there are some good kids coming up in this world. Like my daughter, walking next to me. I said to her, isn't this just so beautiful here. She said yes, it is. We looked at a little stream running and chatted about school. My truck being sideways on the side of the road, didn't really matter anymore.

I came home energized and decided I would love on my donkey a little bit. Hearing about how close it was that I might have lost him made me want to give him a big donkey hugs. I scratched all the places he loves. I noticed he is looking a little big in the girth. So I took him out for a walk. I made him run with me too. He is suck a great living being. There is something about him that stirs up a certain bit of melancholy. I had horses growing up, and the energy is similar. I love him and I told him so. I am going to train him to carry a pack. He is a bit green, but Sophia wants me to walk him down to the bus stop, and I thought it would be neat if he would start learning how to carry a pack. I could work with him and give him a sense of being my wing man. He is gentle on the rear quarter. He doesn't kick. Not people. He kicks a pesky pig and a downright rude buck goat. My nanny goat stays clear from him. She is such a smart girl. I hope someday they can be friends though.

I emailed Rusty and told him about the truck, but he missed the notification and drove up on the scene. He went and yanked that baby right out. No problem. Nice Husband.

Some situations might seem terrible at the time. But today I remembered I could take a big breath and start over. Begin again and stop and smell the roses or wild rabbits along the way home to your donkey. :-)

Life is good. I will seek out the good, even when I find myself in a hole, it can be disguised as a  blessing. I got to know a little bit more about my daughter's day at school. I met a neighbor. I exercised and breathed in fresh air, and I got a sense of the connection I have with Earl my donkey. I thought I was stuck, when in fact it was the universe getting me un-stuck.


wild and wonderful, and shiny...
~crow

PS, A Shout Out to the people who have come along and added me to their blog follow list. Also, to those who come from facebook, and read and leave me messages there. It feels like it is a shiny imaginary medal that I can pin on my chest. ;-) Thanks for reading.
Welcome to crow.

the forgiven

You are forgiven, beautiful little girl, for all of the things that hurt you and scared you. 

You are forgiven, young and blossoming lady, for holding yourself back in fear and for numbing your pain. 
You are forgiven, struggling mother, for missing the mark of perfection you had been blindly leaping at. 
You are forgiven for the wounds you never realized you were making on yourself. 

You are forgiven, tired slave, for never being able to please your unjust taskmaster. 

You are forgiven for the boiling rage that you held inside. 

The Universe is large enough, broad enough, soft and loving enough, the Goddess spreads her arms wide to pull you close, to caress your brow and whisper like the Great Mother She is - "My Child, My Right Hand, My Love, My Creation, rest now and soon you will see the beauty radiating from within."

And God is there, too, Proud and Beaming in the softened way of a warrior who knows no battles last forever, in the lump-in-the-throat way of the heroes of myths and legends, he sees that your victories have been noble, and that your scars have shaped and honed your skills and that as the scars fade you will no longer need to fight those battles again. He is proud and loving... 

I see you up close, and see the Goddess within you, the fern-covered forest floor of your wondrous and growing Soul, the handiwork of faeries and angels that have loved you for forever.

2009 

grounded

 

 ~crow

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...
~crow

blogger flogger

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 crow.net. It is not a lot to read, but extremely interesting info there. Also read this page at crow.net. 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...
~crow

blackie (still wet) joins his peeps