A Day in the Farm Life

Sadie watches over Carly who has extremely old bones and, near as I can figure, Carly is 19 or 20, ancient for a sheep. Her poor arthritic bones feel the cold dreadfully, and each day this winter, I'd have to heave her to her feet three or four times. She's enjoying the warmth of spring which, probably, is her last spring to enjoy. Carly is a dear thing and has brought much joy into our lives.

Each morning, Sadie rushes to see if Carly is still "with us"; one of these days, she won't be but will wait for us to meet her Home.

Once or twice a month, Jake shows up, stays for an hour, p'raps three and then hits the road again. He reminds me so much of my Christian walk...I love God and want to do His will, even try my best yet still fall off the straight and narrow. I go back to Father, cowed and fearful and He welcomes me with loving, open arms. 

Yes, Dave and I allowed our dogs on the sheet and towel covered furniture. When Jake comes 'round, he climbs into my lap for snuggles and kisses and I accommodate. Shortly, he's gone again to God knows where until he decides to visit me next time. 

Can you see Levi?

Each day, Levi and Gypsy go with the dogs and I to the barn. We do morning chores, check water and fences, make sure everyone is on their feet. It's a family thing.

Gypsy enjoys her dirt bath and I've never figured out, exactly, why.

 This red fox was in the pasture next to the farm and is, probably, a she who has kits. During early dawn and late dusk hours, I can hear them calling for food, a job that keeps their mother worn out busy.

Barn swallows are back...hurrah! In the eighteen years we've owned Thistle Cove Farm, I've seen one mosquito. Between the barn swallows and bats, insect pests are in short supply. It's pouring rain and the pastures are responding by becoming a beautiful "pison" green; the sign of growing things. There's so much to do but thought you might enjoy some photos; be safe and well, if you get a chance, come for a visit. Won't take a moment to put the kettle on.

Blessings ~ animals ~ farm life ~ dawn ~ dusk ~ this beloved farm ~

A Dog's Life, All Six of 'Em!

~ waiting for breakfast ~

We're having Ole Man Winter visit the farm today; wind chills are around zero, temps are around 10 above F and the sun is playing hide and seek...mainly hide. We've been to the barn to count noses, feed animals, check water and now it's after lunch, time to do...well, what needs to be done is yet more paperwork dealing with Dave's death. However, I am so weary of paperwork; 'deed, what I'd really like is to run away from home if only for a night or two. Just to get a different perspective, to blow the cobwebs out, to have a meal food that's more than a handful of nuts or jellybeans or, for breakfast, Grapenuts cereal. It seems I can't get away from nuts -smile-. 

~ no sweater for Jake B. Goode ~

It takes me a while to get everyone ready for the barn trek. The dogs all have sweaters and I have layers; by the time I get their sweaters on them, I've worked up a sweat, both from the exertion and from continually saying, "Stand still; wait a minute, stop that, move please!" Everyone is excited, they know what's coming and it makes them happy. All that is, save Jake, my Prodigal Son Border Collie, who is too dogly to wear a sweater. I think. At least, I've never tried putting a sweater on him. Jake has been coming here for around a year a while, can't really remember, and now that it's harsh winter, Jakes sleeps inside but still deigns to go to the barn for chores. He needs to keep an eye on the sheep and horses, you see. Jake is a Rambling Man and as a matter of fact, he and the Blue Heeler bitch on the farm behind us, just had a litter of puppies. As soon as I'm able to get off the farm, I'm going to buy a huge bag of dog food to contribute to their table. The folks who own the proud Mom hardly have two pennies to rub together so a bag of dog food will help Mom and puppies alike. BTW, anyone want a beautiful working dog? Those puppies are likely to have more brains than you and I put together and as both parents are beautiful, the puppies are button cute as well. Photos asap.
I'd ask Dave, "want me to take Jake to the animal shelter?" and Dave would always say, "no, but dadgummit! I hate having a dog that's smarter than me!" Jake comes and goes, as he wills and as always, and we're growing accustomed to each other's ways. 

~ Abigail Von Rotten the Terrier and Sadie Hawkins ~

Abbie has been here since May 1997 but only God knows her beginnings or her age but we do know she's a rough coat Jack Russell. She was an adult when we found her and, even though aged, she's still got a heart the size of Montana. Her eyes are dimmed, her hearing almost gone and she requires two sweaters when the weather is harsh yet she refuses to stay behind. I know the feeling; I'd rather die with my boots on than watching television and, God willing, when it's my time, I'll go with my boots on, doing what I love, chores on this farm. 

Sadie, aka Sada Hawkins, is from Keniba Ridgebacks and almost three; she's the only one we actually know their birth date. She's still puppyish and that's because I've allowed her to grow at her own pace and rate. Sadie, as are all Ridgebacks, is a chow hound and a counter surfer; if it's food, it's not safe. I cannot begin to tell you how many pounds of butter and bacon, glasses of milk, roasts, mashed potatoes, etc. she's consumed over the years. If it's not in the oven or placed high, it's not safe; she'll eat it. I know for a fact she burnt her tongue when she ate shortbread right from the hot pan! I was sure the shortbread was safe as it sat cooling for ten minutes but nope; Sadie said, "gosh it was hot but good!" Bad girl but it was my fault so no, she wasn't punished beyond my yelling...at lot and loudly. By the by, Keniba has a litter of puppies in February and if you're able to get on their buy list, more hurrah for you. Edith, Keniba's breeder, has Excellent Quality Ridges and I unreservedly recommend her. Yes, you can get less expensive Ridgebacks but as Dave always said, "Pay now or pay later, probably triple." It's always much better to put your money on the table in the beginning and get a quality companion animal, one who is deemed free of disease and health problems. Later on, it's not only financially expensive but it's heart breaking to deal with a friend who is sickly and in poor health so don't do it; buy quality and save yourself heartbreak. But, please, please...someone head slap me...I CAN NOT GET ANOTHER DOG...either a Ridge or one of Jake's puppies. Please help me say "NO"! 

Dave used to tell me the Drudge Report would, eventually, say, "Cove couple has 57 dogs!" I'd look at him and reply, "you say that like it's a bad thing!" 

~ Sophie Lauren Butterball ~

My little fat girl still hasn't lost weight but that's not her fault. Her dang human, me, gives treats in the morning and feeds at night. I have cut back on the treats so, maybe, she'll start losing a pound or four. Sophie came here the week after Dave was buried; her human Pa had cancer and died leaving her human Ma in dire straits.  Dave and I'd discussed bringing Sophie to live with us and just because Dave died, I saw no reason to reverse my offer. Soph is a broken coat brown and white Jack Russell and thinks she owns the place; between she and Abbie, they're probably right.

~ Sam P. Spade, Secret Agent ~

Sam still hasn't told us what the P. stands for but that's okay; a man of mystery is always welcome. One first Sunday in June, while on the way to church, Dave and I found Sam. He was just a little thing and had, probably, been thrown out with his litter. He was the only one we found so we turned around, brought him home and put him in the kennel with fresh water and food. sigh. Dave and I being humans, are slow so it took us two weeks to get it through out thick skulls Sam was meant to live here, on the farm, and we would be his humans. It's been a good arrangement and all are happy with this little Basket Hound, aka Basset Hound, Spaniel, Terrier mix. 

~ Grandma Grace and Miss Kitty ~

Gracie is the oldest dog, we're guessing around seventeen but, again, only God knows. She was wandering around on the side of the road when she was, easily, persuaded to live on the farm. Her bones are old, she's slow and dim of sight but is yet able to dance for a treat. Grace is an Australian Shepherd Corgi mix and loves to herd me. If I'm not moving quickly enough or in the "right" direction, Grace will take a little nip at my heels to hurry me along. Alas, Miss Kitty has gone on before and she and Dave are saving me a place. 

I've not even gone into detail on the rescued horse or sheep; that's for another entry. I do know I need to get to the grocery store, if I'm going; there's sure to be black ice on the road so I need to go and come during daylight hours. 

So, tell me...who have you rescued lately? Who owes their life to your being willing to extend a hand?

Blessings ~ Abigail ~ Grace ~ Sadie ~ Sam ~ Jake ~ Sophie ~ and all those gone before and to come after, God bless us, everyone! ~

A Place Of Safety

~ Carly and Sam ~

Sam P. Spade, Secret Agent, is the bravest thing on four legs; especially when his four legs are in a place of safety under my skirt! Sam is smart; he realizes he's not as big as Carly Shetland and, always, seeks refuge under my skirt when Carly comes to either investigate or receive her treat of corn. 

 ~Jake B. Goode, ~

our most recent foundling dumped dog visitor has found a new home. Dave and I hated to let him go but it was for the best. Just last night, prior to his new human retrieving him, Daniel told us Jake had dug out under the fence, was traveling around at night, then returning in the morning. Jake was always here around 7 but almost never at 6, when I'd arise to let the other dogs out. Now I know why.

How goes it with your blog? Are you happy with it? Generally, I'm happy with mine although there are some tweaks I'd like to do...when God makes a 36 hour day...snort, chuckle, LOL...until then, I just wander around Blogland and find folks who are willing to help like Funky Junk Interiors. Check out her link and tell me if that's not fabulous, eh?  I wish I could tell her how much help she's been but, for some reason ??? I can, hardly ever, comment on her type comment blocks. The one where you have to "Comment as" then "select profile" well, that almost never pops up, anymore, as Thistle Cove Farm and when I try to do other types responses, it always fails. So, if you have this type comment block, please know I have tried to comment but to no success. Glenda, you come to mind here as well. And, if you're able to comment at Funky Junk, please let her know I am grateful for her post.

~ Ms. Daniel, center, speaking to former students ~

Back Yard Neighbor has a fabulous post regarding 9.11.2001. You may recall, President Bush was in Sandra Kay Daniels' classroom at Emma E. Booker Elementary School in Sarasota, Florida where second grader's read The Pet Goat to the President. In Back Yard Neighbor Jeanne's blog entry, those same second grader's, now ten years older, recount their memories of that historic event. President Bush was later criticized because he chose to honor his commitment to those second graders and stay with them while they finished reading to him. I agree with Chantal Guerrero who said, "I think if he would have panicked that was the tone he was setting for the whole country. If he wanted the country to stay calm, he needed to show that he was calm." Thank you, former President Bush. 

Compared to our current President, all I can say is:

I am sorely disillusioned with our current President; so disillusioned, in fact, I cannot say anything that isn't nice so I'll just not say anything at all. Perhaps, though, for the first time ever in my life I don't regret not having children.

~ my place of safety ~

Where is your place of safety? Where do you go when the cold storms blow? When you need comfort, sanctuary, warmth, coziness, love; where is it you go and what do you find there? Autumn is the time of year that I take down our billowy curtains and hang our heavy velvet drapes. It's time to prepare the house and ourselves for the November rains and cold winds and the deep sleep of winter that follows. Cotton blankets are exchanged for wool blankets, cotton sheets for flannel and, in guest bedrooms, electric blankets are put on beds. Summer clothing is put away and cozy sweaters and wool socks placed in easy reach. Every sofa, and a lot of chairs, have shawls or throws draped on them and baskets of knitting, embroidery and the quilting rack are readied. The tea kettle is always on the counter but heavier teas such as Lapsang Souchong are placed by the kettle and the oil and propane tanks are filled in readiness. My place of safety is being prepared; what are the top three things you're doing to prepare?

Blessings ~ full oil and propane tanks ~ tea ~ wool blankets ~ heavy drapes ~ a place of safety ~

Summer's Last Gasp

 ~ the Cove ~

Although there are sure to be hot days ahead, they will be minimal. The nights are a lot cooler, the mornings are a lot foggier and the dew is a lot heavier. All, signifying the ending of Summer and the beginning of Autumn. There are those who say the seasons shouldn't be capitalized but I disagree and think each has its rightful place and should be recognized. Those who live on a farm, live by the seasons with each having lovely, yet bittersweet, days.

~ cheerful zinnia ~

We've cut all the hay we're going to cut this year and have more than fifty round bales to feed as winter progresses. Usually, we put up square hay but this year was different. People's time wasn't their own this year, and much like last year, we all made do with what life brought our way. We are blessed though, we were able to get our hay cut and baled, perhaps having enough to sell in the spring. 

~ sturdy, beautiful barn ~

This is our sturdy, beautiful loft over the stable. We're fortunate to have several buildings, each with their own design and purpose and, yes, even beauty. This old barn has been standing a hundred years or more; no one is quite sure but the evidence is in the limestone foundation. This year, for the first in decades, perhaps ever, the barn loft was cleaned. The square bales moved to the back and side, clearing up one side and the middle and showing the floor underneath.

~ Morgan and Shawn ~

Shawn, with Morgan's help, moved all the hay to the back of the barn, clearing the floor and making room for future bales. It's strange though, when I walk on the loft floor, there are creaks and moans I've never heard because the deep bed of hay on the floor covered the noise. I find myself tiptoeing with a frisson of unease but the barn is sturdy, beyond sturdy, and holds tons of weight.

 

Recently, ain't for city gals posted she felt a bit of apathy and I responded I understood completely. However, after reflection, it's not apathy I feel but ennui and it happens this time every year. It's not related to the shortening of days, although that certainly assists, but, rather, knowing the rest that is winter that's coming is much needed yet also knowing there's so much to be done before winter sets in. Ennui is a feeling of weariness or dissatisfaction or a feeling of listlessness and general dissatisfaction resulting from lack of activity or excitement.

Hmmm, that's close although there's no lack of activity or excitement here on the farm. Just last night Dave and I visited while sitting on the back porch and watched a cow look for a place to calve. Now, to a lot of people that, perhaps, sounds as exciting as dish water but life, to me, is precious even when it's a cow and her calf.

~ Jake B. Goode ~

For the past few weeks we've been visited by a stray dumped Border Collie whom we've named Jake. He's not though, he's not good, because he keeps digging under the fence and has found several loose areas to allow him to come and go at his will. Not good, Jake, not good at all! Around here we have sheep both on our farm and on our neighbor's farms and our neighbors don't like stray dogs. Stray dogs tend to get hungry or bored...or both...and then the troubles begin. Jake has been given a reprieve of several weeks and we've let it be known we're feeding and trying to contain him but his time is short. As much as he's welcome here, he's not welcome to teach our dogs bad habits. Our yard fence is doubled and now, tripled, in safety but Jake has all night to dig and dig he does. I'm afraid it's only a matter of time before he finds yet another escape spot and I dare not trust our dogs, loose, in the yard with Jake.

~ Canada geese ~

Each day more Canada geese arrive, on their way from somewhere else to someplace else. It seems all of life is seeking home this time of year. Seeking the warmth, safety and security of hunkering down for winter where food and water will, hopefully, be plentiful until it's time to move on. The geese voices make all of us, humans and dogs, look to the sky, breath caught in our throats, wondering at the mystery. 

Like I said, ennui isn't quite it but, perhaps, pensive is more on target although meditative even more so. Pensive "suggests dreaminess of wistfulness, and may involve little or no thought to any purpose: a pensive, faraway look. Meditative involves thinking of certain facts or phenomena, perhaps in the religious sense of "contemplation," without necessarily having a goal of complete understanding or of action: meditative but unjudicial. Reflective has a strong implication of orderly, perhaps analytic, process of thought, usually with a definite goal of understanding: a careful and reflective critic."  

Which is it; do you know?

Blessings ~ Summer ~ Autumn ~ hay in the loft ~ hay in the storage lot ~ home ~ quiet evenings on the porch ~  Canada geese ~