Chat Number 120

~ Carly Shetland ~

OHMYGOODNESS...can you believe it? Patrice is hosting Chat Number 120...although Wendell is a bit under the weather (is it possible too many carrots made him sick?) Her questions and my answers:

1. Have you baked any Christmas cookies yet?  No, but baking short bread is on my calendar for tomorrow. I want to give short bread to the folks at the auto repair shop, library and feed stores; they are so nice to me and I want to say "thank you" in a tangible way. 

2. Have you finished your shopping yet? Oh gosh, I finished most of my Christmas shopping months ago. Although, this year, I'm dong things differently. Family and I celebrated Christmas last weekend and I gave them baskets of home canned goodies, a few store bought goodies and a note that said a donation was made to The Gideons International in their name. Let's face it, all of us have everything we need (food, shelter, clothing) and most of what we want. I've reached the age when I want to share in a more tangible way, so I'm giving the gift of eternity. Most of my friends and I have decided not to exchange gifts as well; when we get together (whenever that is), we'll go out to supper or I'll cook for us. The gift of their presence is what I want; I can never get enough of good friends.

3. If you had reindeer like the story of Santa, what would you name them? Love, Joy, Peace, Kindness, Gentleness, Faith, Hope, Charity and Wisdom.

4. What was the most memorable Christmas gift you ever gave or received? In 1971, my parents sent me to Emmanuel Junior College in Franklin Springs, GA. Just before Christmas break, I was packing to go home and noticed Joni, a classmate from Hawaii, wasn't packing. It turned out, her family didn't have money to bring her home for Christmas so Mom and Daddy said, "bring her with you." On Christmas morning, there were gifts under the tree for Joni...a gift from Mom and Daddy. That's not only my favorite Christmas memory, it's also the most memorable Christmas gift I've ever given and received.

5. Please tell me something new, interesting, or funny. Also, Wendell could use some encouraging words to feel better, just saying. I was in my flannel nightgown, fuzzy socks and fleece mocs at 4:30 tonight. The oil man delivered oil (OUCH!) and as soon as he left, I locked the gate, gave a flake of hay to Carly, came inside and got comfy. Have I mentioned how much warmer the house is since plugging the foundation holes and sealing between the sun room and house?   BTW, Wendell, whenever I'm a little down in the dumps, I count my blessings and that always helps. Then again, so does a good cry every now and again. 

There are three water troughs on the farm and they all freeze; a de-icer is kept in one and that prevents ice but on the other two, ice forms. This ice isn't so bad, it's just a piece whereas sometimes it's a sheet, two inches thick, covering the entire trough. 

Once I drag the ice out of the trough, you can see how crystal clear the water is and, if you could taste it, you'd taste the sweetest limestone water in the world.  

Do you see this stealth 'paca?

Little sneaky thief! But...can't blame him because he didn't leave the gate open...it was someone with two legs 













and I don't mean these critters:

Have I mentioned how nice it is to have dust to dawn lights on the garage? 

THANKS, DONALD!

It's so cold and, this year, my old bones are feeling the cold so it's taking me a while to visit your blogs. Just be glad you're not here, the smell of muscle rub is quite intoxicating invigorating stinky.
Merry Christmas everyone; remember the reason we celebrate.




Blessings ~ Patrice ~ pure drinking water ~ egg nog ~ so much food to eat, I even have snacks! ~ warm flannel nightgown ~ guineas ~ a warm house ~

Snow Day on the Farm

It's been another great day on the farm, albeit extremely cold, windy, snowy and exciting. At some point last night, the rain turned to sleet and, early 0'dark thirty, sleet turned to snow. Since Dave died, my sleeping arrangements are...crazy. The three dogs and I sleep together and there are mornings I awake and we're piled up like a litter of puppies...but we're warm and cozy and, in this ole farmhouse, warm and cozy are passwords to nirvana.

This is the de-icer, put into the livestock water trough, to keep ice from forming. It might be hard to imagine how much of a thrill this is in my life, but think...Sunday morning I was chopping two inches of ice in this trough and, at dusk, had to chop ice again before "installing" the de-icer.

I'm not the only one who is thrilled, the gold fish are happy to be warmer. Ummm, those orangey spots in the water are the gold fish; bought three for $1 at WalMart and have done what guppies goldfish tend to do...procreate. If anyone wants any, they're yours for the asking...and getting.

The weather report says six inches of snow before morning and we're halfway there now. The right photo was taken about 4:00 and the one below was taken about fifteen minutes later...see the difference?

 Against my better judgement, I had to go to town today. Roads were icy and snowy but the trip still had to be made and when I got home, chores had to be done. In the winter, I do chores twice a day, about twelve hours apart so I can give the animals a bit of extra food as well as cast my eye over them to make sure everyone is okay. Even so, there are times I'll still need to go outside later on to check on someone, open a gate, give extra food, etc. Today, by 3:30 I was in flannel nightgown, bathrobe, warm socks and wool slippers with the intention of staying inside until daybreak tomorrow.

Then I noticed the bird feeder was empty and the internal argument began...fill it now or wait until tomorrow? Self said, "You're already in your nightgown, robe and slippers; you should wait until tomorrow." At the exact point I was ready to agree, a sparrow flew to the feeder and found it empty. AAARRRGGGHHHH!!!! So yes, I got a container of bird seed and very slowly, very carefully went down the snowy, slick back stairs, filled the feeder and then crept back up the snowy, slick stairs and then inside the house.

I am such a sap! On the other hand, I'll sleep well tonight, knowing that the birds will have food when they show up at 0'dark dawn in the morning.

Remember these green boots? Useless, I tell you...totally useless! At least in the snow they are useless. "Why", you may very well ask? Because they are rubber, have no traction and are slick as greased lightening. Useless! After filling the bird feeder, I came back inside and looked out another window and saw sheep at the back gate. So...for this trip I slipped off my woolen slippers, slipped on these rubber boots, grabbed a walking stick and headed outside. Where my feet promptly slipped out from under me and I landed, flat on my back, in the snow.  AAARRRGGGHHHH!!!!

Nothing broken, not even my pride, and the sheep are now finding the open gate and beginning to wander into the yard where they'll have grass and warm water to drink.  Things like this...making sure the animals have food, shelter, water make me happy even at the same time I'll feeling tired from the exertion. Yes, the work is physically demanding but it's good work, meaningful work (to me at least) and work I love.  The sheep, below, is one of Carly's relatives, another Shetland and happy to find food. Can you tell the poor little thing is nothing but skin and fleece? Not! -chortle-

 It makes me happy, knowing Carly has an extra ration of sweet feed with her arthritis meds. it makes me happy, knowing I've done my best for her poor arthritic bones. It makes me happy, knowing her last days are filled with as much caring as it's within my power to give. What doesn't make me happy is not knowing when to say good-bye to her. There's a saying: if you have live stock, you'll have dead stock and that's true. The big question is: when to say good-bye? When is she in so much pain the meds aren't enough any more. It's the age old question for me...when?

So many folks tell me, "take them to market, sell them off. They're too much work for you" but I'm not listening to those folks. Dave and I had an agreement, never take anything to market and, as long as I'm able, I'll honor that agreement. Just because he's dead, doesn't mean our commitment is void.

When I first got animals, I would brush the snow off their coats and break the icicles to make the animals more comfortable. It took me a while to learn that snow is a great insulator and breaking the icicles doesn't make any difference at all. Leaving the snow on their backs keeps them warmer and more comfortable; brushing it off makes them colder.

High in the maple tree, two guinea's are roosting, huddled together, gripping tightly their hold on the branch. The white guinea was wandering around, on the ground, and I'm not sure if s/he's confused, hungry or what, perxactly. There's no way of knowing so I scatter food on the snow, hoping the guinea will, eventually, wander over and find it. I bought a bag of chicken scratch for them and am trying to gentle them by feeding them. I'd love for them to become tame but it's going to take some time. The dogs like chicken scratch, I suppose it's the molasses and corn combination, so I am constantly shooing dogs away from guinea food. It's a delicate balancing act, keeping the animals fed, sheltered, watered and in good health. It's also my job and I like to think I'm good at it; so far, anyway.

Blessings ~ snow ~ guinea's ~ sheep ~ dogs ~ work of my hands and heart ~

A Wild Journey

~ a skein of Canada Geese ~

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice--

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do, 

though the wind pried 

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do--

determined to save

the only life you could save."

~ Mary Oliver, The Journey ~

~ Canada Geese ~

It's turned frosty here on the farm and this morning rain, cold, drizzle and, just maybe, sleetish mix was added. Yesterday, I took time to check the heating pipes and then, turned the thermostats to 60. This is a big house, with ten foot ceilings and as tight as sieve; I always wanted Dave to put in a gas fireplace in our bedroom but he was afraid of propane gas poisoning. I'd just shake my head and add another layer blanket. I mean, really!, when you can see the curtains blowing, do you really think things are too tight and propane gas poisoning is a potential problem? I have noticed since using Quik Crete to plug the foundation, the wind isn't making a fuss inside and it's also a bit quieter...what gifts and blessings! 

~ Canada Geese lessons, here ~

It seems most contradictory that in Autumn, when human hearts turn toward hearth and home, the wild cries of Canada Geese are a call to action. They circle the valley, always twice and sometimes more, before landing in the field across the house to glean corn left from last week's chopping. 

Usually, their cries are heard before my eyes spy them, this morning no exception and I made a mad dash for the camera, feet slipping out of bedroom shoes to scurry faster. The dogs crazed with excitement, all of us bunched at the door, then hurtling down the steps across the frosty leaves and grass, dashing across the yard to get the best photo. 

~ questions and answers, here ~

Flannel night gown flapping around bare legs, naked feet skimming across wet yard, dogs barking loudly and dancing around me, caught up in my excitement as the geese circle, honk, circle, honk. I wonder if these are some of the same geese I waved to in late spring as they flew on their journey and decide, yes, some are old friends. 

~ three guinea fowl ~

At some point this summer, we had a violent storm and six guinea fowl blew in; three are left and have made their way from road to barn lot to yard. I'd rather they didn't visit the porches but have budgeted for food to feed them this winter. Guineas are not only entertaining but they are good watch critters as well and, when disturbed, they'll call out loudly and readily; listen here to see what I mean.

I always told Dave we had a unicorn flying over the farm; we can't see it but the lost, wayward and those needing sanctuary and rescue can see it and they make their way here. In case you don't know, unicorns are the "patron saints" of lost, wayward foundlings. No one can convince me otherwise that unicorns are only mythical creatures. I believe they lived as flesh and blood but were hunted out of existence; remember the Dodo bird? There are many extinct species, see here for the top ten. The Bible, King James Version, mentions unicorns more than half dozen times but scholars say the Biblical unicorn isn't the unicorn we think of today...a horse with a horn in its forehead. I say, prove it but it cannot be proven and I'm both comfortable and happy in my belief. What does it hurt? Nothing and I cannot understand why people get so riled when someone disagrees with their interpretation...especially when it's something as simple as unicorns. It's not as if we're arguing about salvation!

This day is crazy...the heavy winds are blowing clouds over the valley and within a ten minute period, we'll have rain and wintery mix and then blue skies and sun. Still, outside chores have to be done and they aren't getting done with me at the computer. 

Blessings ~ Canada Geese ~ three guinea fowl ~ unicorns ~ poetry ~ this Wild Journey called Life ~