Saturday, November 26, 2011

crow and company

We had plenty of visiting going on here at the farm. Brittany and Jonathan came out for dinner on Wednesday,  then my Mom and Step-dad on Thursday and Friday. On Monday and Tuesday, Rusty's sister and family stayed here. Thursday, Brittany and Jonathan were back for Thanksgiving, and yesterday, Friday we went to Rusty's Dad's house to meet up with more family. Then to the airport for some flying.

Quite a bit of socialization for a monk farmer woman.

In the middle of all that, new rabbits were born to two mothers, as well as a fresh batch of hatch-lings. Meanwhile, all the normal work involved to keep things running does not stop. The barnyard folks can't be put on the back-burner. They have daily needs and with them, always come a few surprises. Like a breach of fence security and it rained of course. So it was mucky. Mucky and geese and dogs getting loose, me falling, filling pools, late night feeding, a puppy, cleaning, cooking, running here and there for supplies.

Oh and on Thanksgiving Rusty went out and was successful with his deer hunt and brought a huge eight point buck home. Who is hanging now and needs to be processed packed and put in the freezer.

Big breath.

I haven't forgot you all. I will catch up on some past posts and get back in the groove here. I have missed you. Here are some great photos by my sis-in-law, Beth and my daughter Sophia took. She had a borrowed crazy zoom lens on her camera. So here is a little close-up of part of my week:

Alejandro and Lady Gaga growing and rooting

Sophia

my little nephew holding a black English Angora baby rabbit

my Earl

molt and a roo

my nephew helped with farm chores

moving the geese back... again

adlelei, house bunny

an apple-lier

meet Bear, rescue dog

Blue Clay, TN fainter goat would not faint on demand

Blueberry my dog, came over with Brittany

Another of Beth's awesome photos

I love the help

boys and more boys

Blue Topaz five little English Angora kits

black English Angora baby rabbit

cheep

I taught my nephew how to milk a goat

he is a natural

mixed breed roo

more awesome photography

gossip

"major medical boi" (Aflac commercial)

Moon angry at the paparazzi


the essence of Sophia

Kevin, my Bro-in-law, 2 nephews (one is a little one) and Grandpa pilot

Rusty and the cousins

drama queen ;-)
 
perfection

pre-teens

Beth finds the beauty at the airport

I love my Bro-in-law

up

down

three rides
Sophia's view 1

Sophia's view 2

Sophia's view 3

Sophia's view 4

Sophia's view 5

Sophia's view 7
my view

my view 2
another safe and beautiful landing
thanks Beth

Beth, is a master cook, a super-mom, an awesome photographer, glamorous woman, and a great sister-in-law. Thanks for sharing the week with us kin folk here in W&W WV..

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

duck, duck, goose!

I often hear a commotion going on up at the duck pools. Usually it is a couple of ducks mating, which the make the geese put out alarms, or maybe they are rooting the drakes on like fans at a football game. Pretty disturbing public waterfowl orgies galore go on up there.

Kids, that is how baby ducks are born.

Chickens are no less romantic. Screaming hens being pinned down by testosterone-d filled roosters with spurs that grow from their leg bones like knives. One by one claiming their women. Love in the barnyard. Oh but those fuzzy babies that come along are so worth it (easy for me to say)  Yes, and the hens who give me oval presents everyday is what comes of all this. I love my hens. Love them. We have chats. Girl talk.

So I have been fighting this flu-bug-plague-thing. Everything hurts. I was in my favorite cut-off flanel pjs, no bra hair sticking up while sipping on vitamin water looking in the kitchen cabinets for anything that might seem appetizing when I heard the ruckus. I looked out the window expecting to see the sport of duck stacking, when I saw that it was geese. Three geese in the pool dunking something... what were they doing? Mating? No, my female goose was not in the pool. I caught a glimpse of one of my white Holderread Indian Runners head come up for air, then a goose grab it that fast.

I jumped out of my sick-self-ness stepped into my wellies and ran out through the kitchen sun-room, grabbing a broom (I had used it earlier as a walking stick in the mud, as it had been raining all night and all day.) Taking the shortest route, which was up a hill, I fell in the mud a couple of times, but was there at the pool in seconds. It felt like slow motion, me yelling, "NOOOOoooo!" Slide fall, slide... broom in the pool. Everyone scattered.
 I looked up and saw the white runner, running. A bit wobbly, but an impressive sprint across the field. I saw white and then I saw red. Blood. Blood coming from her bill and from her back. I ran after her. I know she was thinking, "Is this my day to die?" "Why is everyone out to kill me?" The only way I could catch her was to lay the broom bristles (go figure my tool is a broom) on her to make her hunch. Then I went and picked her up. Took off my sweatshirt and wrapped her bloody skinny body up and heading to the house. I realized it was pouring down rain at this point.

I ran warm water over her trying to see what was bleeding exactly. But, she was so stressed, so I wrapped her up again, help her close and did some one handed typing to a group on facebook, Birds of a Feather. A closed group full of supportive folks who know what it means to get a duck SOS call. They talked me through it and I calmed down. I just went blank with fear there for a moment or two. Usually I am great at emergencies, and crappy at the day to day life tasks. But a shivering bloody duck was not in my book of experience. Soon I recieved responses from the group. Warm her, clean her, isolate her, she is in shock, hydrate and hugs sent over the internet. Then stories and pictures of their own ducks hurt, and promises of how resilient these ducks are. pictures of the same ducks, healed. They assured me how ducks can get better, even after horrible attacks. I called the vet in the middle of that, and yes, they could take her. Recommendations of inject-able antibiotic/pain meds, Blue Kote, and instructions. I sent Rusty an email with a list of supplies and by the time he came home, I was Crow (waterfowl) Medicine Woman. We injected the duck, spray the Blue Kote and looked her over. She rested for a bit, and three times now I have heard her at her water bowl.

Yes, her hospital bed in my living room. A crate full of white pine chip bedding, a water bowl and a food bowl, near the heater and in plain sight of her doctor. I will sleep next to her tonight, on the couch. I hope she gets better. I can't tell if it is Happy or Hula the white runner duck. Two girls, identical sisters, that came from Nicky in South Carolina. I promised their owner I would take good care of them.

Seems goose breeding season is right around the corner. I had forgotten (on purpose) that December was coming quick. Perhaps that provoked the attack. Breeding geese kill. So, after the duck surgery, I had to begin my goose relocation plan. Meaning: four geese moved up to the house on the hill. It used to be the barn, turned into a house, and now, at least the exterior rooms will be full fledged barn again. Up they went, in the pouring rain. A bit dazed and confused, but there will be no more duck violence tonight.

Tomorrow I will begin moving the goose set-up, up the hill. Pools, accommodations, nest, feeding, etc, will take place up there. I have just moved my two TN Fainter bucks up there as well. Izzy the Great Pyrenees spent her first day up there today, guarding the two smelly boys. Now she has killer geese to protect.

Before setting up geese tomorrow, I have take myself to the people Doctor. I have an appointment. I did not set it, but I need to go. I got that thing, that nodule sitting at 12 O'clock on my right breast that needs to be checked again. Just like Cinderella's midnight and it might turn into a pumpkin. I have other testing too. I really dislike going. I really dislike starting a new Doctor. I dislike trying to convey years of my health at one appointment. I wished I had the forethought to draft up a written medical history essay to hand to her. However, the Doctor is a She, and she is a DO, not an MD. So we will see how that goes. I really need to project positivity. But it is never easy when you don't feel well. Everything hurts. I bet the duck hurts worse than me though. Poor thing. Look if you can. If not turn away.

Here she is: (after the blood was washed away)

she poo-ed just before my daughter took the photo - bill is chewed up - eye swollen

back of duck before the doctoring

She is resting now. I am going to do a little reiki on her and get some sleep myself. I will keep you updated.

~crow

Saturday, November 12, 2011

magic

I cry every time I hear this song. I wonder why.


for t.d.o.w.& r.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

old reflections

I don't feel old. I mean, I don't feel old until I look in a mirror, and then I am like. Crap. Old. Not in a vain sort of way, but in a come on life... let me hit restart a few times. I like to age, I just don't like the limitations that age brings. If I ever tried a cartwheel again, I am sure I would be put in traction for a month. Not that I have an urge to do cartwheels, but still, one of my superwoman powers is not working anymore and I don't like it.

Interesting that I pick this age to become a farmer woman. It would have suited me better when I could lift with abandon, and be limber enough to climb, and jump, and run fast. My old knees and back wont have it. Stupid genetics, or whatever.

But perhaps the timing might be perfect. Of course it is.But I still I have a need to place everything out in front of me, only to be able to bring it all back in again. It was always there, I just have to see it. Examine it, talk about it, and then I am done with it. That is why I am here talking. I guess that is where my mind is tonight.

It is ok to be old. It is ok not to be able to break out my superpowers in a physical manner. Because when I am forced to slow down, even just a little, I find that it is not about the product, but more about the process. I am processing. Just have a seat and wait while I process.

Now when I move, I do it carefully and thoughtfully. I might think things through before diving in and doing it the hard way. My limitations are actually bringing on new talents. Forethought. Even though it can get in the way of my spontaneity, I feel like I am sort of new again. Somebody did hit the restart button while I wasn't looking at it in that longingly way.

That is the cool part of getting older. Fricken epiphanies galore. My eleven year old was talking today and talked about how she has them, epiphanies. She asked me if I knew what they were. (New concept for her, it must be for me too, right?) I said, yes I know what they are. Smiling to myself thinking I think I am having one right now! Epiphanies at eleven!

Children are both the time keepers of how fast life goes by, and they also have the ability to stop the clock in a freeze frame. Like tonight, My oldest daughter, twenty, and her fiance came over for dinner tonight. We ate, laughed, debated, and read tarot cards. Just like when she was little, and she still is. She is petite and has long blond curly locks, and is fair skinned with blue eyes and rosebud lips. People ask her if she is old enough to work at her job. She always makes sure she says "I love you Mommy" before she goes off with her new man. ::sigh:: I was just her age what seems like just a year or so ago.

Then I catch a glimpse of me in the mirror again. Crap. Old.

Epiphany time!

I still have the twinkle in my eye of my youth, but I now know how to use it.

special twinkle superpowers activated
powered down for the night
good night all...
~crow

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

more fainting...

I am in need of a new camera and a laptop.

So there will be no pictures today, I have to borrow Rusty's camera then my broken lap-top that is connected to my old desktop screen photo card reader is broken. I have certain "things" I would love to show you.

If I had my camera, I would take a picture of the new Great Pyrenees puppy I now have here. She will be Izzy's guardian partner. They really should work in twos and after hearing the coyotes, I think Izzy needs the back up. The puppy is from Tennessee. (Hello Brit in TN!) Yes, she came up with two of her sisters in a trailer full of Myotonic goats. My friend that I got Izzy from, bought the other two. We are both having a hard time with names. I would love to name her after a strong Goddess or Warrior, but have to be careful she is not a destructive Goddess. I named my foxhound Odin (who is now flying in the sky somewhere), and always questioned my choice, even after getting him a Crow (cocker spaniel) and a Raven (black chicken) he never settled.

Plus, Sophia is weighing in on the name. I brought the puppy to Sophia's Pom-Pom practice yesterday, and about 10 girls suggested naming her Snowball and another 8 suggested Fluffy. Yea, no. Why did I bring the puppy to a practice? Daylight saving clock issues. I was never one who appreciated a clock. Too demanding, those time keepers. I can't even believe I was able to work for so many years. Anyway, I thought I would be there at the end of the practice, not the beginning.

So yes, a puppy... and...

  1. My Black Copper Maran hens are laying, or at least one is. I now need to put them in a breeding pen with "Wood Pile" the BC Maran roo, who got his name from the place he loves to hang out on.
  2. I have a few regular customers now who come all the way out here from the closest city and buy fresh free roam eggs. I have an egg order for 8 dozen on the November 21st. I told my hens they better get crackin'.
  3. I have eggs in the incubators and under one Broody hen. Quail, Lavender Orpington, Blue and Black Copper Marans, Golden Campines, Speckled and Silver Sussex, Red Shoulder Yokohama, Black Java, Plymouth Rock, and Black Sumatra. I think that is it. It is not the best time to incubate, and many of these are critically endangered livestock, but I am hoping I get enough to grow out all Winter and have them ready for Spring 2012 to start a small rare flock.
  4. Two of my Indian Runner ducks are laying. One blue egg, one white.
  5. I had a American Rabbit Breeder Association Registrar come to my farm to register rabbits. My American Chinchilla rabbit weighs 8.5 pounds. It is a good weight. I registered, four of my rabbits, and learned how to tattoo a rabbit. Normally, a Registrar will only be found at shows, but he came here! Very exciting and exhausting.He was very nice.
  6. One of my English Angoras rabbits broke his back (somewhat common) but it was so severe, we had to put him down. He had no pain reaction in his legs and lost control of bowels. If he had either, believe it or not, you can put them in a small confined area and rest, herbs etc and bring them back. But not the case for him. We guess something spooked him and he hit the roof, literally. He was in an outside hutch. More tears. It never gets easy saying good-bye. He was from the first litter here. A great looking buck that I had high hopes for.
  7. Crick the special needs duck went to sleep one night and never woke up. He was such an amazing duck, but I guess his time here was meant to be short, but ever so sweet. 
  8. I am taking over the barn house up the hill to make a proper rabbitry, and perhaps a chick nursery if I am successful in this big hatch. I so need to take pictures! That is, after I clean up from the last tenant. No public comment on that one.
  9. Company is coming from Florida and from New Hampshire.
  10. The holidays are coming too. Ugh. I dislike the whole "Christmas spirit frenzy" I think people should be giving and kind all year long, and spend all that money in the Christmas gluttony rituals and do something useful with it. Like buy me a camera and a laptop. 
  11. Faint. More like, a brief collapse.
I am going to get you pictures soon I promise. For now, a random photo:

Old church pews from a Baptist church here in Appalachia. 
Two are going on my wrap around porch.

Oh, and I lost two blog readers. I wonder why? Don't they know I always land on my feet?

~crow

Monday, November 7, 2011

I almost fainted

Well the ancestors came and left it seems. Thanks for riding on that roller coaster with me.

You know a really nice psychiatrist told me that I could be bipolar, he knew I was depressed. I sometimes read my blog and think, Is this the manifestation of my mental condition? I am certainly all over the place. My head sometimes feels like it could explode because of all of my creative thoughts. You name it... I can think it.

Hence this post, in the middle of telling you a story about how I came to be me and how I seem to have landed here, you are now interrupted with this:


A nice little farm update. :-) (Sort of.)

So I had been expecting  delivery of a new Myotonic (aka TN Fainting) goat. He was born in Kentucky and although I was looking for another doe, I saw this guys and he appealed to my magical side. He looked mythical in the pictures, a black horned blue colored buck, that seemed like he would appear the same place say a unicorn might show up. He is like the color of morning mist, and he is a little wild in personality.

He has been here for well, that is complicated when I say he has been... here.

We met Blue Bird Acres the transport company at midnight at the WV Welcome Center. It was cold and windy. We chatted a bit (we had actually met them earlier that day which is another little something I will tell you about.) We got little Blue Clay the Myo goat into the back of our Jeep Cherokee and made our way home through the winding mountains. I sat in the back seat scratching Blue Clay and looking at how beautiful he was. I only got glimpses of him when enough light hit his blue color. I was telling him that he would love his new home. He smelled a but musky, like a buck will smell and he would lower his head to warn me if I moved my hand too fast towards him. He wasn't really going to butt me, but it was all he had. It had been a long ride for him, he was away from his home where he was born and now this lady was trying to touch him while he leaned into the turns, over and over. When we arrived Rusty picked up Blue Clay out of the Jeep and carried him into the electric fenced area that is next to our house.

I was struggling to get out of the back of the jeep (two seat-er) and by the time I got inside my Bella the beagle barked at Blue Clay. Blue Clay had had enough, took off running with Bella in chase. He went flying through the 5 hot wires, in a god awful faint. Right through it, electricity pulsing while he fainted and the fell down the drop on the other side. Rusty and I went running to unlatch the gate and go catch him. He was heading down the mountain, fast. Maybe he was flying. I looked up higher along the mountain while Rusty went lower. He told me he lost the tracking sound of crunching leaves because I was making so much noise above, you know, crunching leaves and stuff. We searched every inch of the side of the mountain, pitch black, rocky, briars, you name it. I ran back up to the house and got two flashlights. I came back and I continued sweeping the mountainside, while Rusty jumped back in the jeep to drive down the the cattle farm on the road below us on this side of the river and at the beginning of a valley. We searched and searched. We traveled as far as the river and back, then spread out again. I was in tears, calling for him, sick to my stomach.

I heard the distant horn of a train. They echo here in the mountains. I knew it was coming. One train line still comes through our area, full of coal it comes like thunder. I stood and listened to it get closer and closer. I thought about it scaring Blue Clay out from his hiding place, and could only imagine him in a full faint in the middle of those tracks, unable to move. I could hardly breath.

After the train passed, we doubled back, I climbed up and got the dogs out to help us track him. They ended up chasing rabbits, oh, and Bella found our cat that was not lost. Thanks beagle, great nose. We searched in the cold until 3 am, freezing and sweating, tired and scared. I came inside and cried and cried. Rusty and I kept going out every time we hear one of our dogs bark, but none of them were able to track Blue Clay. I cried more. I know what is out there, bobcats and bears, coyotes and dogs, mean dogs. Fainting goats have no defenses. That is why it is important to own herd guardian dogs to protect them. In fact, these goats used to be used with sheep, so if a predator would come, the sheep would run and escape, which left the fainting goats there as live decoys to save the herd. Now fainting goats are the ones to protect. They are coveted, and rare and soon the breeding lines will be closed on them, as most old herds have been found.

But, I knew he was alone and defenseless, he did not know where he was, or who I was.

Rusty held me while I sobbed and sobbed into his shoulder, snot and tears flying. He tried to tell me that he would be ok, and promised me that he was probably hunkered down hiding and at first light he would go find him and bring him home. I would not hear any of it. I wrote my neighbors with an incoherent email and alerted her to have her family (their land surrounds ours) to look for him in the morning. I sent pictures. I lay down on the couch, my knees, back and heart aching and listening for my dogs and finally fell asleep about 5 am. Still with Clay's bucky smell on my hands.

At first light Rusty woke me up and says, "come look" ... there he was, Blue Clay, staring at my face, I grabbed him and hugged him and cried more and then he promptly pooped and peed on my hardwood floor.

Seems he had made it way down to the farm below us in the valley. Rusty had searched everywhere again for him along the mountain, past the train tracks, and finally went to the cattle farm searching near their pastures. There was Blue Clay, up on a hillside, blending with the boulders chewing on a tree.

I haven't got pictures of him yet, but here is a picture of him a few months ago. Today is the first day I have let him out with my herd. I am watching him like a hawk.


Blue Clay
 crow