Crossing out the Farmer?

Two men are coming for one of my last two goats this morning. Soon all my chickens will be transported to their home and I'll be very close to freedom from the responsibilities of caring for farm animals. I will still own a small farm, but I'll only have a cat and a dog. It will be weird, but everything about my life recently has been weird. No animals and no husband. Both seem VERY weird to me. A good friend of mine told me that "abnormal" would become my new normal. This was in reference to widowhood. She was so right on. Her mom has buried three husbands and will more than likely bury her fourth. I don't think I could do widowhood that many times.

Today it's overcast with a slight promise of rain. I feel like that more often than I care to admit. I'm an optimistic, but wary person. I have hope for all, but am also in touch with the realities of life. I consider myself balanced, but I have my off days when I have to cling to God and cry out for grace and mercy. I don't cry nearly as often as I did when Jeff first died. It still sneaks up on me from time to time, but I'm better and better all the time as well.

I am in love with my friends right now. So many have filled in the voids that were left at my husband's death. I know I can call them and they have been so gracious to call me intermittently and check on me. Some bring groceries, some even brought food for my goats and chickens. I've made so many new friends as well. The guys coming to get my goats are friends now. My neighbors have become very close and I'm even looking forward to barbecues and get togethers where we play our instruments and sing. I'm looking forward to living again and I'm actually enjoying the journey again.  I think I might live after all.

I'm learning that all the ups and downs I've experienced are VERY normal in mourning. I mourned when my baby son died of SIDS, but it was nothing compared to losing Jeff. He was my buddy, my confidant, my lover and the one who could get under my skin faster than a cheetah after a gazelle.

Now I'm moving on in so many ways. I do some things the same way I did when he was here, but I also do so many other things so differently I surprise myself. I'm rediscovering myself. I'm much stronger than he ever gave me credit for. I'm working at compassion in much bigger ways. I know how much I need it right now, so I'm sowing it with the grouchy and nasty people of the world.

Life goes on. Folks bury folks all the time. Folks are abandoned all the time. Folks are betrayed all the time. It's all about what you do with the situation at hand. It's all about how your respond to the circumstances. I'm choosing to press into God, His word and His will for my life. For now I am a "retired farmer". I can live with that. I know that my beloved animals have a better chance of getting fed where they are. I know I won't have to lug home bales of alfalfa because the field in my acreage is empty. There are many advantages to being a "retired farmer". I was mostly a petting "zoo" operator. I don't like eggs so I mostly gave them away. My goats were pets and we only butchered one of them. I ate some tasty goat, but gave 90% of it to a friend who helped me with some plumbing.

I guess I can't really cross out the "farmer" in my title above. I'll leave it for now knowing that I WAS once a farmer and it  forever changed the woman I was into who I am today.

Reese

Neurosis of the Lily Livered Chicken

I have had chickens now for about two years and everyday I learn something new about them. Chickens do better when they have moms is a biggie as far as lessons go. I have one hen we call a torpedo chicken because of her shape. Her name is Azzie and she's very neurotic. She runs away from other chickens, but lays down for the rooster and smashes herself to the ground when danger is near. She showed up on our farm one day with no mom and I put her in a cage for her own protection. My belief is that this caused her to be even weirder than most chickens. She has five absolutely normal offspring, but she runs in terror from them now that they are almost grown. She is Rhode Island Red by appearance, but her long shape causes me to believe she has something else in her DNA.

Chickens have weird behaviors. When a chicken finds a bug or is given a treat of some sort they make a weird noise that lets all the others know they have something special. It sounds like they are bragging and rather than keeping hungry pecking competitors away, it draws them. Oddly though they all do it so I guess it balances life out for them. I tend to throw tomatoes out for my hens and when I do I am greeted with a chorus of silly hens announcing their goodies as they run off to eat their prizes in solitude. They never get to eat in solitude because all the other hens follow the noise. They are smart enough to recognize bragging, but not smart enough to suppress the urge to cackle with delight.

I have one hen that isn't afraid of anything. I've seen her attack a skunk that was killing her chick and almost destroy and devour a dove that was competing for food in the chick nursery. One day I will chronicle all the weird behaviors I've witnessed. For now I guess I should go check their water and food.

Cerise

My Spoiled Critters

I'm sitting here trying to count all of our animals. We have 14 goats (three of which are less than a month old), 30 chickens (five of which are roosters and six of which are baby chicks), five ducks (three of which are ducklings) a cat and a dog. That means we feed 51 animals every single day. Some of our animals demand more attention than others. Some of our animals require more attention than others and some are vocal, but rather in the background. I've come to the conclusion that the smarter the animal the more they actually demand of you.

I have a couple manipulative animals as well. My dog Chorney is very manipulative and very good at being manipulative. She is the best behaved dog we've ever had, but also the most intelligent. She demands that all her toys make noise. If a toy (other than a ball) doesn't squeak or talk it gets tossed aside and never played with. She has a basket (old Woolworth shopping basket) full of toys. From time to time I go through them and look for tattered, broken or silent toys. They get tossed and I have a new opportunity to purchase something new for her. One must go out before one comes in.

Chorney is 12 years old and showing small signs of her age. I do a lot of praying for her as well as pampering when she shows signs of hurting or difficulty. I give her body rubs in the morning and goodies for small good behaviors.

I spoil all my animals on differing days. I gave my biggest goat "Pinkie" spinach this morning. No one else would touch it. He loved it and enjoyed eating it all by himself. I gave my mama chicken and her babes pancakes and cherry tomatoes. I gave tomatoes to my other chickens as well. Each animal has a favorite food and it's fun to discover that food and make sure they get it from time to time. All my goat boyz love carrots, pecans and pecan leaves. They act like nuts when we give them to them.

My Saanen goat "Pinkie" does this head cocking thing when he wants me to bless him with a goodie. He seems to know it gets to me. He's so big, but he acts like a little kid with big brown eyes. He adores carrots and pecans and will almost stand on his head to get them.

It's no wonder I have such difficulty with eating my animals. They are extended members of our family. My husband loves our big black Cornish rooster. When we ordered them we had no idea they were fighting cocks. We ordered five hens and one rooster. He is a prize fighter. He has scars from fighting the fence! He lost one of his spurs to the fence. He loves to attack from behind. He's a booger, but hubby loves his "never say die" spirit.

Farming for us has been an adventure. I'm a half country and half city girl. Born in the country, raised in the suburbs and now back in the country. My summers were spent in my home state of Montana. The love of simple and country came from those summers. I never really felt a part of California.

I know as long as we can care for our animals we will spoil their hineys. We love animals and love to be loved by our animals. Spoiling them is just part of the care we endeavor to give to everyone we meet. It's just in our nature.

Life Lessons on the Farm

This has been a tough week and also a good week. Living on a makeshift farm has been quite a lesson for me. We started with two Nigerian tiny goats as "lawn mowers" and now have 12 goats; one of which is pregnant with what look like twins. We also have 29 chickens (8 of which are baby chicks), and five ducks (three of which are ducklings). Oh yes, we have a little lapdog and a cat (f0rmerlly known as "Feral" but now called "Freckles").

We've butchered a few chickens, enjoyed their eggs, and butchered a goat (yet to enjoy the meat). I've nurtured several chickens back to health and lost a couple as well. My pet rooster "Wonky" had a genetic disease that caused his legs to be malformed and had to be put down. That was really hard. I used to hold him and talk to him. I would carry him around the yard so he could have a break off of his crippled legs. He was precious, but his life was short. "Waddles" my golden Aracuana hen broke a toe when she was a chick and I nursed her to health. Her sister "Bingo" was eaten by a predator of some sort.

I lost two baby ducklings earlier this week. They came from a place with less than clean holding cages. The poor babes were in with chickens and geese, which is a real "no no" if you know a thing about poultry and water fowl. I should have known better, but my desire to find mates for my drakes outweighed my common sense.

I had no idea how hard it would be to eat my animals. Hubby butchered a couple of our Cornish hens and it took me months to pull them from the freezer and eat them. I learned important lessons the day I finally made the decision to do so. I found myself nauseous while eating, but had to get past it and enjoy the food. It was a real stretch.

I used to get mad at veterinarians who were hard shelled. I also thought many farmers were a little hardened as well. There is need to become somewhat "hardened" when one farms and eats the meat that is raised. I love meat. I am a real "meat and potato" woman. I used to really hate vocal "vegans" who condemned meat eaters. I have more compassion now that I've actually raised chickens and eaten them and their eggs. Wow, did I say that?

When I first moved from California to Wyoming (in the seventies) I had a friend who volunteered to help another friend butcher 250 chickens in one weekend. I cavalierly volunteered to help. My mother had seen to it that I had many experiences in camping, house keeping, pioneering and the likes so I'm the adventurous type. I ended up pin feathering the chickens after they were killed, gutted, and dunked in boiling water and defeathered. Pin feathering is tough work. Your hands get sore and water logged from the job. My payment was ten chickens. I took them home and carelessly ate them. It just isn't the same as raising and getting to know the chickens you kill.

It isn't easy in any way to raise, feed and get to know an animal only to kill it and eat it. I'm not good at it, but I'm less judgmental of those who chose the vegetarian or vegan lifestyle. Man was initially vegan before the flood. God is the one who told us to eat meat after Noah left the ark. The animals weren't afraid of man before the flood, but God put the fear of man in them after the flood.

I look forward to the day when we won't "have" to eat living creatures. It's coming, but for now someone is out there having to do the hard job of raising and butchering countless animals. I know we won't do this forever, but for now I'm the guardian of a whole boat load of animals. I love them, hold them, nurture them and one day either sell them or butcher them. I have animals designated as "pets" that will live out the full number of their days. They are spoiled and pampered as are our other animals.

The bible says, "A righteous man regards the life of his beast, but the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel." I will always regard the life of my beasts, and I won't ever take them for granted. They may try my patience from time to time, but life is so fragile and precious it must be held in the highest regard whether animal or man.

Winter Work

I've been busy cleaning out the baskets in my kitchen. (Most of my cupboards are open shelves with cute wicker baskets). I love order and dislike chaos and disorganization. I also cleaned out our financial records and need to go uptown to purchase a plastic bin and manila folders for 2010 in preparation for 2011. It's nice to start with a clean slate. I have lots of things to enter into the computer, but I'm simply prepping for now.

My husband has been cleaning the goat barn for a couple of days. It took way longer than he anticipated as it was deep in "goaty raisins". When he's through he's going to lay down lots of fresh straw for the nannies and "babies" (now quite large) to sleep in. He already made a wonderful feeder for the goat boyz. They waste so much less because they can't trample the bails or go potty on them. Once a goat smells "wee wee" on their hay they won't touch it. That can be very wasteful.

The duck pool was an inch deep in ice this morning, so once the hose thawed hubby filled the pool with fresh water. We're trusting that the kiddie pool will last through the winter and spring as we haven't seen many swimming pools at the stores this time of year.

I'm thinking about making some more fresh bread. The first loaf is almost gone and I plan to make potato soup for dinner. Hubby loves fresh bread and we're back to whole wheat and sugar free living. I'm learning how to use molasses, agave syrup and Stevia instead of sugars. It's a challenge, but our health is worth it. Making cookies for hubby is so vital. He loves sweets and I can't keep him away from them all.

Our chickens are happy, but would love some fresh green grass. I save every little bit of our veggie trash for them as they need produce like we need it. We also chop up corn tortillas for them and they really appreciate them. They aren't really laying eggs right now as they are at the end of their annual molt. It's nice to see them all feathered out again. They really need feathers as it got down to 18 the other day. That's cold in terms of Texas weather.

I'm purging closets, drawers and cupboards and again loving the "clean slate" feel of it all.

The attic is calling me and I'm anticipating getting it done VERY soon. That will be a real undertaking.

I think I'll get out my embroidery for my night projects. I may also pick up my accordion and do some practicing on it as well. I love winter for the very reason that it's cool enough to work hard and not be uncomfortable.