Welcome to Thistle Cove Farm; Thanks for Stopping By...

~ Welcome! ~

Some folks go to the florist or grocery store; I drive down the road, Mason jar and scissors in hand and pick a bouquet for the gate.

As Susan Branch says, here's a little musica to set the mood. This week has been grand; lots of sunshine, lots of warm weather, 

~ do you see the sheet of rain in the middle? ~ 

some rain to help things grow,

~ double rainbows, ending in my pasture! ~

animals (domestic and wild) and friends FRIENDS!

~ deer and two red wing blackbirds ~

Early in the week, a deer was spotted in the side pasture. Apparently, s/he was a little too close to someone's nest because they started dive bombing. First one, then the other, would swoop in about the ears and, eventually, the deer scampered.

~ so graceful ~

~ Do you know these women? ~

One of the best gifts I've ever received was a visit this week from Vicki of 2 Bags Full. Vicki and I have known each other for years and it was at her Florida property Dave and I had a respite just days before he unexpectedly died. This week, Vicki and I met for the first time and, truly, it was like being, again, with a friend of decades whom I'd not seen in a long while. Vicki is everything one could ask for in a house guest; she loves cats, loves the dogs, loves the horses, loves me, smile

AND SHE AND MARSHA WEEDED THE VEG GARDEN!!!! No one was threatened or harmed, it was an act of LOVE and words fail me at saying how greatly appreciated. Now I can get in a few more tomato plants, herbs and maybe a squash or three. In true Vicki fashion, "no big deal" but, yes, it was, and is, a Big Deal. It would have taken me all day if not two and they did it in a couple of hours. THANK YOU!

They left, all too soon, and missed the black bear heading home this morning.

They also missed learning how to drive the tractor; several times a week, early morning after dew is off the ground, I mow thistles in an attempt to keep them under control. I dislike using chemicals and weed control is by tractor and old fashioned swing blade.

Walking on sunshine...another beautiful day on Thistle Cove Farm and tomorrow is sure to be perfect.

Mercy! My cup overflows!

Blessings ~ Vicki ~ Marsha ~ wildlife ~ beautiful weather ~ Thistle Cove Farm where I've spent the BEST one-third of my entire life! ~

Eagles, Mowing and Farm Sell Update

~ I love this photo! ~

Grace, over at Buttons Thoughts, has been putting up hay; she's at 410 bales and counting. (I am green with envy!) This summer is the wettest in my memory which only goes back almost twenty years in this place so others' mileage may differ. There's good news and bad news...the bad news is, for the first time since living here, hay hasn't been made; it's simply been too wet. The good news is I've planned carefully and have both round bales plus square alfalfa bales and my horses will still eat well this winter. Thank God!

~ upper field ~

On this farm, there are two hay meadows that haven't been cut and, truthfully, I've wanted to fret but every time I'd start to fret, God would whisper, "Trust me, Sandra, trust me..." and remind me of Exodus 14:14 "I will fight for you Sandra, you only need to be still." What He's saying to me is, "Cast your cares upon me because I care for you" and, most importantly, "hold your tongue and I will work everything out for your good. You may not see it, it's the long view but trust me, Sandra, trust me." When I'm able to quiet myself and trust in Him, life has a way of seeming to be smoother and I'm better able to handle the stresses, and those who stress, much better. It's a difficult, daily lesson.

~ mowing the upper field ~

So, after considerable thought (and checking with Daddy) I decided to mow both pastures. the growth is dead, gone to seed and, instead of buying seed to re-seed the fields, mowing it will allow the seeds to go plant and fertilize themselves. Dad said, when possible, it's good to do this every so often; the Bible says to let a field lay fallow every seven years so, once again, God is taking care of me and His creation.

~ frightened doe ~

It takes me a very long time to mow a field and that's due to two things: the first is I drive slowly because I'm not terribly comfortable on a tractor on hills and the other is, I'm always looking ahead for wildlife. This doe was nestled in the tall grass, perhaps with her fawn, and was frightened when I passed by. She stayed close, snorting and stamping her feet, which made me wonder if she had a fawn; I took a lot of time, moving slowly, watching ahead carefully but never saw the baby. After a couple of passes, I decided to mow the upper side, back and forth, back and forth, and not do a complete circle. It took longer, much longer, but no one was injured and that made it worth the extra time.

Several rabbits made their escape.

Difficult to see but all the "dust" are seed heads...lovely, lovely free seed heads. I could have gone to the farm supply store and paid hundreds, if not thousands, for seed but God supplied these.

After mowing the field, six of the horses were turned loose and showed their approval by stretching their legs. Above, Lightly, DaniGirl and Izza took a turn 'round the field, while below, Izza strutted. 

Part of the joy of living here is the wildlife. That's also another reason it takes me so to get stuff done...if there's something to watch, I'm going to take time and watch. I consider it a gift and I'm not one to take gifts for granted.

The eagle was in the top of a tree, about one-half mile away, so the picture is blurry. Still, it's easy to see this is an American bald-head eagle and I watched as this one and a juvenile had a disagreement over carrion. 

While I was writing this post, I noticed John and Daniel, mowing my lower pasture. I hastened to tell them, "don't bother" but John said, "it's good hay" when I said, "I'm going to mow it, let it re-seed and fertilize the field." This is one of those "life lessons" times and, standing there, talking to John, I almost started crying, not due to anger, but simply due to anxiety, frustration, stress and exhaustion. I don't want to put up, nor will sell, crappy hay but John assured me, "it'll still re-seed and there's good stuff underneath" so I said, "all right, go ahead." So, I'm hoping and praying for clear weather enough to get the hay put up.

Farm sale update: I'm not sure why I continue to be amazed at how fast gossip...iow, my business, travels and at how eager people acquaintances people are to give me advice. Lately it's been, "I heard Mr. X was interested in buying your farm. Don't sell it to him, we don't want his kind in Tazewell." Now, I'm not sure what "his kind" means but I think politics plays a role. You see Tazewell is heavily Democrat (because that's how my Daddy voted, that's how my Granddaddy voted, that's how my Great-granddaddy voted and that's how I vote) and Mr. X is Republican. (Yes, boys and girls the playground is full.)

Actually, I'm a registered Republican because when we first moved here and went to the courthouse to register to vote, we were asked, "How do you register?" I replied, "Independent" and was told, "That's not an option, around here it's Democrat or Republican." So I asked which was the largest party and was told, "Democrat" and I said, "I'll register Republican then." (The words of Queen Victoria come to mind..."We are not amused.") 

Seriously?!

Anyway, the price on the farm has been lowered and if it doesn't sell by end of September, will be taken off the market. I've got oil and propane, water, food and shelter for all of us...life is good because God is good. Yes, there are frustrations, stresses, anxiousness, exhaustion but...the good news is, it's because it's my (and God's) farm...it's not a cubical with someone lording it over me because they can. When I remember some of the crappy jobs I've held (and some of the crappy men for whom I've worked) a stressful day on the farm beats a great day in the office every time!

Blessings ~ wildlife ~ eagles ~ deer ~ farm life, it's the only life for me! ~

Fat Charlie, Deer and Visa card Giveaway

It's not as cold as it has been but we've got snow, as evidenced by frozen laundry on the line. Yesterday, I took advantage, or so I thought, of the afternoon's clear skies, sun and mild breeze, to pin a load of laundry to the line. I detest using the dryer for a variety of reasons, the main one being, I'm cheap frugal thrifty Appalachian to the core, love the smell of sun drenched laundry and I'm cheap. Oh, sorry, been there, done that.  I thought there was time (don't we all, wry smile) to finish the day, get in the laundry and then get to my evening meeting.

No, to all the above. Oh I finished the day, but it was simply by being so far behind, I gave up. I fed the dogs and Carly, then raced out the door to do errands, take Charlie (story follows) to Mary, eat and attend the aforementioned meeting.

Bills mailed at the post office, Charlie delivered to Mary and then me to Italian Village to have hot chicken salad for supper. If there's anyone in town who makes a better chicken salad, please tell me who it is and I'll go eat there...but there isn't, so don't bother. Anyway, as I finished supper, I kept one eye on the encroaching twilight; the darker it gets, the slower I drive because of all the wild life. Yep, I left the restaurant and was within a mile of home when it dawned on me...I'd missed the meeting! Fortunately, it wasn't critical but apologies must be made and, hopefully, accepted.

~ Fat Charlie, knocked out and ready ~

Yesterday morning, about 7:10, Dr. Anne showed up to cut Fat Charlie because I believe very strongly in spaying and neutering. Fat Charlie is a barn cat, rescued, given another chance in life and I told Mary, "If you'll take him, I'll pay to have him cut." Happy, happy all around with the, probable exception of Fat Charlie -smile-. However, he'll live longer and healthier and, possibly, happier because he'll never know what he's missed in life.

Dr. Anne arrives to find the "operating theatre" all set up...table in front of the window, bright lights with towel spread over table. She gives Fat Charlie his "go to sleep" shot, arranges her vet supplies and says, "Dang! I have twenty scalpels  at home and didn't bring a one. Do you have a sharp knife?"
"Yes," I replied, "do you want a kitchen knife or pocket knife...?" "Hmmm, I think pocket would work." So, I hand her my Coleman hunting knife and Leatherman. It turns out the Leatherman is as sharp as a scapel so she proceeds and finishes in five minutes. By noon, Fat Charlie was fine although, due to meds, still staggering around a bit but by the time I got him to Mary, late afternoon, he was ready to leave me...ungrateful cuss!  I would show photos but last time I did that, folks got squeamish.

A few days ago, coming home, I saw this mama doe with her fawn. The field behind them held a dozen, p'raps more, deer of all ages although I didn't see a buck, only does and fawns. Beautiful!

A week ago, this was the sight...Dry Run creek was frozen, not solid, but enough to put a shield of ice over the top...again, beautiful!

The cave at Maiden Spring is frozen as well; this is where the Little River begins as it meanders down to the Holston River in Tennessee.

Thank you, Folks, for following Thistle Cove Farm; you are the reason I blog. It continues to amaze me that people find life on the farm interesting but I bless you for the gift. Someone once told me, "You're such an interesting person" to which I replied, "Not really but I do interesting things." I still think that true; God has blessed me (well beyond my deserving!) and I honour Him by giving Him credit and my life. He's getting the short end of the stick but it's what He wants and within my power to give.

A few weeks ago, I said when the follower count reached 500, I'd give away a Visa $50 gift card; that goal number has been reached. Would that I could to each, but I cannot, but to one follower, leaving a comment, you'll receive a $50 Visa gift card. Next week, Wednesday, January 22 at noon, the winner will be chosen by random generator and announced.

Blessings ~ Dr. Anne ~ Fat Charlie ~ Maiden Spring ~ the Cove ~ Dry Run ~ you followers, greatest folks on the planet! ~

Worship and Mucking the Barn

 Our lives, as Christians, should be one of worship. Standing at a sinkful of dirty dishes or over a pail of dirty diapers (does anyone even use cloth diapers anymore?) or pushing a vacuum or mowing the lawn is worshipful if we have the right spirit. 

Today, my list of chores include mucking out the barn. I'll take shovels, rakes, a wheel barrow, dogs and cats with me to rid the barn of manure and mud, making it nice and clean again for the horses and sheep that use it for shelter. As I move manure from ground to wheel barrow to garden, hymns are sung, prayers are said and worship is attained.

Perhaps we sometimes think of worship as churchy...we have to be in the proper place, with the proper clothing, with the proper attitude but I say the place we are in, at this moment, is the proper place as long as we have the proper attitude. 

I can just as easily worship God while I'm mucking the barn as I can sitting in a pew. Some days I can worship Him a lot better because I'm surrounded by His creation and not that made of man's hands. 

The Christian life is difficult enough, don't make it more difficult by going all legalistic and thinking life has to be lived by a list of rules. God won't swarp us with a big stick should when we fail Him. His correction is loving and kind if when we approach with a spirit of repentance. That too is worship. His mercies are new every morning, everlasting to everlasting and worship now is simply practicing for what we'll experience for all eternity. 

Joining with Jen, Finding Heaven Today, and Lisa-Jo in Five Minute Friday - Worship.  

~ have you ever felt like this doe? ~

P. S. It's going to take me a while to respond to your kind comments left on the last post...but I will, please give me time. True confession bids me tell you when I pour out my broken heart to you, I have faith you'll respond with kindness. You've never let me down and your loving words and prayers are a balm to my brokenness. Thank you is so small but truly heart felt; only God can repay your kindness to me and my prayer is, over each of you, He'll pour out His unlimited and unceasing blessings on you, yours and the work of your hands and heart. 

Blessings ~ God's faithfulness ~ worship ~ His creation ~ chores ~ 

Another Day of Grace

~ maple, overhead and l to r - oak, maple, tamarack ~

I took a break and had a toes-up on the lawn while the dogs, cats and Carly wandered around me and the yard. There are ancient maple, hemlock, oak and tamarack trees in the yard which provide shelter, shade and color at varying times of the year. While the dogs alternatively gave me sloppy kisses, then trailed the scent of something, I watched the tree branches move lazily against the sky.

~ Carly, old bones sleep a lot ~

Do trees live in three-quarter time, rooted to the ground and struggling to be free? In days of old, before the Fall, did trees roam the earth, clapping their branches in praise to the Almighty? Are they, now, conscious beings, doomed, or permitted, to live at a slower pace? The Good Book says, "a time to be born and a time to die" but it doesn't say if all living things are living at the same pace but in their own time, in their own space.

~ Sam and Sadie ~

This season of grief, of mourning, since Dave died, leaves me with no one to talk to. No one who looks at me other than strangely when I talk about trees as cognizant beings.

~ curious creatures ~

Some years back, Tumbleweed was a rescue, as are so many here on the farm, including Dave and I. He and I rescued each other, a gift of grace from Abba. Tumbles was a birthday gift from Dave; this black American Curly mare who had known harshness, perhaps mistreatment, in her early life. When Dave found out we had to pay for the privilege of rescuing her, he shook his head and muttered, "Only you would pay to rescue." I brought her home and put her in a small lot where she had fresh water and I could feed and touch her every day. I wanted her to get used to me, to begin to trust me and I, to trust her.

~ Tumbleweed, American Curly horse ~

As I was coming or going, she would come to the fence to watch me and nicker a greeting. The dogs and I would go into her lot to give her love and she would patiently stand, letting me brush her. When I started to move away, she blocked my path; she wanted more love and attention. When I told her, "Later", she would prance off sideways, keeping me in her line of vision and, all of a sudden, would throw her head up and begin racing the small lot, bucking and kicking and watching me watch her antics. Tumbleweed ran for the pure joy of knowing I took joy in watching and she'd run in larger circles around me, but always, watching me, watching. It was a memory moment and a good one; this farm is full of such moments and some threaten to overwhelm, then suffocate.

If you're still reading, say a prayer for those of us here at Thistle Cove Farm. Especially me...for good health, safety and wisdom to take care of those in my stewardship. For me to prepare us for winter, for me to have the heart to keep going. When Dave first died, I thought the grief would kill me; now I'm afraid it won't. When Joy, his wife, died, C. S. Lewis wrote in A Grief Observed, "Her absence is the sky and spread over everything." O dear God, how this strikes me at my core! Lewis also wrote, "When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of 'No answer.' It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, 'Peace, child;you don't understand.'" (emphasis mine)

~ do you see them? ~

They are both right, I don't understand and thought I'd be further along by now. When I first met Dave, Cathy had been dead for eleven months. I confess, I remember thinking, "Why does it still hurt you like it does? Why are you still grieving so desperately?" 
God, help me, now I understand and, almost, wish I didn't. 

Grief is physical and damn hard work. It's unrelenting in its assault, a constant daily fight and the only peace I get is when I'm asleep. Thank God, I sleep well due, I'm sure, to the physically demanding work of keeping the house, farm and animals. 

It's a tender work, tenuous at best, living the grief down and trying to move forward. Just last week, a young woman asked, "What's it like, burying a spouse, the work of grieving?" I told her, "Nothing I'd wish on my worst enemy" and yet, most of us will experience it. Statistics show women are widowed, on an average, at age 52 and more women than men will bury their spouse. Even so, there's no joy in knowing. 

~ now do you see them? ~

It's a cycle, this circle of birth, life and death. Once born, everything has a season of life and then death no matter if it's trees, grass, animals or humans. I'm not sure about the trees and grass but I do know animals and humans grieve; desperately in some cases, and some never, quite, move on. It's not that they aren't willing but they aren't able and only God knows and, right now, He's not saying other than, perhaps,

"Peace, child; you don't understand."

Joining with Jen at Finding Heaven Today, the Soli Deo Gloria party. 

Blessings ~ many, but for the life of me, I can't see through the tears to count them ~

Life and Death on the Farm

This latest storm hasn't been fierce but the cold and wind are absolutely bitter. Looking down the valley, the sun is breaking through but only for a few seconds, while the snow is blowing hard but no more accumulation is expected. Fortunately, the sheep have good wool coats, as do the alpacas, and the horses all have shelter. Last night, in the gloaming, I looked out and saw the horses eating hay from last year so I rushed out and set out a new round bale. It's in a bad location so I'll have to move it on Monday but, hopefully, it'll be warmer and not as icy, cold or slick. I always take the safest way when doing farm work!

This deer is eating at Daddy John's silage pit; deer come to feed daily at dawn and dusk and are a pleasure to watch. They drive the dogs crazy but they're a treat to watch.

Levi, here on the tractor front end loader, likes to go to the barn when the dogs and I go down to do chores. He's growing into a fine feller and, right now, is crashed out next to the wood stove.

This is my walnut tree and a favorite tree to photograph. There are fewer than half  dozen trees on this farm and, all but one, are 100 years or older. 

Here, Carly Shetland was just given a treat of bread and Sophie Loren Butterball is looking for a few crumbs. My dogs all think they're starving but all have extra flesh...yes, you can pinch an inch! Carly is so old, nearest I can figure she's around 17 or 18, and just about crippled with arthritis. She hobbles along, voice like a fog horn, and orders me around something dreadfully. If I'm not paying enough attention to her, or not giving her a treat, she'll paw me with her sharp little hooves. It's nothing for me to have a row of bruises up and down my legs because her sister and their off spring do the exact same thing!

Someone told me eagles were carrion vultures -thanks, Charlotte!- with better press and they're right. Earlier this week, I saw eagles in my upper pasture and, when I went to investigate they flew into the tree near the road. Buster Brown, one of my oldest sheep, about the same age as Carly, had gone to sleep and never work up. From the looks of things, it'd happened during the night and the eagles arrived that morning to clean up. I called Daniel and he came at lunch and disposed of the body. All my flock is aged, the youngest is approaching ten and I'll, probably, have one or two more old ones die this winter. People keep telling me to take them to market but I can't. They've been wool sheep all their lives and to truck them to market now is a betrayal on my part; so I won't. 

The eagles weren't too happy when I disturbed them but the feeling was, somewhat, mutual. I don't blame them for doing their job but, thankfully, Daniel came to help me do my job. Or rather, he came to do my job...he loaded Buster into the front end loader and took him away for burial. 

The sun didn't last long and it's now snowing so hard the mountains are but a dim outline. It's frigid cold and when I went outside to take photos, it only took five minutes before my fingers froze and started tingling. Hopefully, the roads will be cleared tomorrow, Kim and I have to go to church and then, she goes home. We've had a very lazy day...breakfast, chores, watching Psyche on television, taking a walk to get the mail and then more laziness. Yes, there's a lot of work we I could be doing but, sometimes, it's just fun to goof off. Like Dave used to say, "goofing off isn't any fun unless there's something else you should be doing." He'd be proud of me today. smile

"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." ~ Albert Einstein ~

Today's Miracles ~ Kim, company for the weekend ~ snow ~ eagles ~ Buster, he lived a good, long, happy life ~ sun, breaking through the gray ~ deer ~ Levi ~ 

life beautiful giveaway

~ Lily, waving hello ~

While at the barn, recently, I hear mewling. Eventually, I followed the sound to the hay loft where I found this little one. Kimberly, a young friend, named this little one Lily which is odd, because in the last month or so, two human Lily's have crossed my path. Anyway, Lily it is and she's quite young, perhaps 5 weeks and I've been feeding her with an eyedropper. Yesterday, I broke down and bought a kitten bottle and she'll drink from it but doesn't enjoy it. Could it be the little rascal has already become accustomed to being fed instead of feeding? Oh dear. I hope she's not a liberal Democrat a conservative.

~ my barn loft ~

She came to the house, stuffed inside my shirt, because of the huge barn owl perched overhead, staring in disapproval because I'd snatched his warm meal almost from his mouth. Lily lives in the bathtub until she's big enough to move to the bathroom and, eventually, to the rest of the house. She's fed every 2 to 3 hours during the day but, selfish me, I only feed her once in the middle of the night.

The feeder had to be moved so, using the Ranger, I piled everything on and everyone in, and changed location. You can, just barely, see the white face of a black Angus peering from the side of the building. Once moved, the feeder was filled with mineral salt.

Could it be the boys are enjoying their minerals? I take my stewardship seriously and provide quality minerals, feed and clean, cold mountain river water for all my animals. 

~ doe and twin fawns ~

A lot of evenings are spent on the back porch, watching this mama and her two babies. If someone drives by, slows down and stops, I jump to my feet and begin screaming, whistling and, in general, making as much noise as possible. This alerts Mama to call to her young and flee. No, as a matter of fact I don't trust people; there are far too many instances of me finding deer dead in the field because some stupid idiot...or is that an oxymoron?... has shot a deer out of season and from the road. I don't mind hunters and know they provide a service both to nature and to their families, and, around here, the men hunt to put meat on the table. They'll spend hours, even days, tracking something they've shot and wounded. It's a sad fact of hunting but not every shot is a kill shot. 

~ 22.5 round bales~

John, my neighbor down the road, and some buddies, perhaps even Ashley, his wife, put up my hay. God blessed us with good weather and twenty-two and a half bales were cut, kicked, raked and baled DRY! Thank You, God! And, thank you John and all!

Once again, another month anniversary of Dave's death has come and gone with me not remembering. Thank you, God. I think. Is life beautiful? Yes. Is life difficult? Yes. Do I miss Dave every single solitary day? Yes. A friend asked, "Do you ever go into a room and start to speak to Dave, then realize he's not there?" I didn't answer her then but will now. The answer is, "not hardly. There's never a day that I don't remember he's dead. There's never a day that I don't miss him." But, for two months in a row, I've missed the anniversary date of his death so, I'm healing...right? I'm growing ahead. I'm beginning to understand again, in a heart sense, life is beautiful. 
Are you familiar with the magazine life:beautiful...faith for your journey? I buy it whenever I see it and, probably, should subscribe. Today, I found the summer 2012 issue and picked up two copies. When I finish this blog entry, I'm taking the magazine and a glass of tea to the back porch where I'll spend a few minutes, relaxing, before getting on the mower and getting back to chores.
I want one of you to relax, so, please leave me a comment and let me know your favorite way to relax. This time next week, Friday, September 14, around 3 p.m., using Random.org, a name will be chosen to receive a copy of this issue.
In the midst of life's hardships, let's agree...life is beautiful!

Blessings ~ healing ~ calves ~ deer ~ fawns ~ dry hay ~ Lily ~ life:beautiful ~