Farm Fresh Blog

There is a popular candy bar commercial on the air now that never fails to crack me up. Here's a quick re-cap for anyone without a television set: A guy is in the back seat of a car with Aretha Franklin. He accuses the Diva of being "a diva" when he's hungry and offers him a candy bar. Immediately Aretha Franklin becomes a man eating a candy bar. With some food, his buddy is no longer a Diva. That's when the camera pans to a grumpy Liza Minelli in the front seat. Moral of our commercial: people become grumpy divas when they're hungry.  www.youtube.com/watch?v=zLrsCnBvQFo

That said, Other Half and I went Christmas shopping today. And we were both hungry, thus, you had Liza Minelli and Aretha Franklin in the car together.  It wasn't pretty.

The Divas
Wake up in a good mood.  Swill down enough caffeine to wake up a dead mule. Discuss plans for the day. Note that we have a busy day planned and Other Half is piddling.  Suggest that perhaps our time would be better spent if we split up and he did his chores, and I did my chores.  Aretha Franklin vetos that.  Okay then.  Go feed sheep, horses, and young heifers.  Note that Ruffy, the Evil Red Miniature Horse does not come in for breakfast. 

Begin to really worry until Other Half points out that Ruffy is in the rye grass pasture where he DOES NOT BELONG! Other Half also points out that the heifers have also done the limbo through the fence and have also been dining at the Rye Grass Buffet. This is a disaster. They have reduced an entire pasture of rye grass to nothing. The grass is so short now that it looks like I've turned the sheep on it.  That's about when Liza Minelli entered the picture. Aretha Franklin assures Liza Minelli that since he is off work all next week, he could put up an electric fence to keep Evil Ruffy and The Evil Heifers from slithering into the winter groceries.  Liza Minelli is satisfied and soon Liza and Aretha Franklin are en route to Yuppy Land to shop for Christmas presents with every Homicidal-Soccer-Mom-Slurping-Starbucks-Coffee-Behind-The-Wheel-Of-A-Lexus-In-Three-Counties.  Since Aretha & Liza are Hungry-Divas-who-rarely-shop-at-any-place-other-than-The-Feedstore-and-Tractor-Supply, it was a bad combination.

First, Aretha & Liza have to drive the Toyota 4Runner because they don't want the Ford trucks stolen while In The City. Liza drives the 4Runner to work every day, but Aretha does not like to drive the 4Runner because it is small and not manly enough for a Diva like himself. Aretha has forgotten his gun and must borrow one from Liza.  He has forgotten both his gun and his holster, thus he must wear a very cold gun in the back of his pants.  Liza notes that even with his shirt tail out, it doesn't take a Rocket Scientist to figure out that Aretha Franklin has a gun in his pants.  Liza decides against pointing it out because it simply isn't worth the fight. So Aretha & Liza step into the parking lot of the First Store along their journey.

Both Divas are almost run down by Soccer Moms Slurping Starbucks. Surviving that, they step inside the Book Store to find that it is a Madhouse.  Liza has consumed so much coffee that she sends Aretha in search of a Border Collie Engagement Calendar while she rushes to the restroom.  Certainly her mood will improve with an empty bladder.  Don't bet on it!  Minutes later, Liza heads out in search of Aretha.  Finds Aretha in the calendar section deeping engaged in a calendar about Suicidal Bunnies.  (Do what?  WTF??)  It must be a Guy Thing because despite Aretha's repeated attempts to interest Liza in Suicidal Bunnies, Liza is only interested in Border Collies, sunflowers, and the Lavender Fields Of Provence. Aretha has no interest in these things. Liza looks at watch.  The Divas have been shopping for almost an hour and have only found things for themselves.  (But no Border Collie Engagement calendars!)  

Aretha points out that despite the fact that they are only at Place One of the Three Destinations they have planned for today, The Divas have piddled around so long that they no longer have time to go to Destinations Two & Three because he must return home to meet man who is supposed to buy one of the old farm trucks.  (Note: this man has stood us up three times already!) Liza points out that she cautioned Aretha about piddling BEFORE the Divas left the house this morning.  Aretha doesn't want to hear it.  Liza is hungry.  Liza is VERY HUNGRY!  Liza sees a box of Godiva Chocolates.  Liza wants.  Liza gets.  Liza throws credit card at cashier.  It is now 3:30 PM and The Divas have purchased only one Christmas present.

While walking to 4Runner, Liza & Aretha are almost run over by Soccer Moms in the parking lot. Once safely in vehicle, Liza pops out a knife and demands Godiva Chocolate.  Aretha informs her that she cannot eat chocolate because she has had no food and needs REAL food instead.  Liza demands chocolate. NOW!  Liza has a knife . . .  and a gun. Aretha gives Liza the chocolate.  Liza slices into box and pops a truffle in her mouth.  MMMMmmmm . . . Then Liza tells Aretha that the Godiva Chocolate cost $18.  Aretha screams. 

Aretha then does mental math and asks Liza if she knows how many Butterfingers could have been purchased for $18.  Liza pops another truffle in her mouth.

Fortified with chocolate, Liza finally notes that Aretha is becoming a Bitchy Bear. Since Liza is only one centimeter past Bitchy Bear herself, Liza announces that this vehicle will be going to the first Fast Food restaurant that The Divas pass.  But . . . first they must get out of a parking lot filled with Holiday Shoppers. 

Every exit is packed.  Aretha suggests going to an exit behind the stores.  Liza argues that no such exit exists and she refuses to get out of line to search for this Mythical Exit.  Aretha and Liza scream at each other.  Liza wins because she has the wheel.  As they inch along, Aretha smugly points out the Mythical Exit at the other end of the parking lot.  Liza points out that she is armed.

The Divas go through a Wendy's Drive-Thru. Eight dollars later and the firearms are put back up. The Divas have wasted an entire day, threatening each other and countless unwitting Holiday Shoppers and they have only purchased one present . . . and THAT is why the rest of the presents will be purchased from The Feed Store!

As eventually happens to every devoted parent, Blue Heeler's child has grown up and left the nest.  Despite the perceptions of John Q. Public, Trace is not a Springer Spaniel mix.  He is a Border Collie.  Every gene in his little squirming body screams

 "Young Jedi, You are Border Collie!"

So young Trace has aligned himself with Border Collie.  He follows Lily everywhere. To a Kindergarten-Border-Collie Lily has the cool life of a Jedi-Border-Collie. And it sings to his genes.

 So he follows her . . .

. . .  everywhere.

Is Ranger upset that Trace has grown up

and moved out of the nest?

Not really.

I think keeping up with The Crocodile Hunter was pretty exhausting work.

(I can certainly relate!)

"Where was that Trouble?"

Read:

Other Half is not a big fan of this dog.  This is why . . .

When I went to bed last night this dog was clean. 

She was white and fluffy . . . and huggable!

Every morning she throws herself into what is left of the hay pile,  and she

rolls and plays and looks so cute . . .

 So this morning,

I picked up my camera to capture a Big White Fluffy Dog playing like a polar bear in nice clean hay.  But I forgot . . .

This is Briar we're talking about!

Briar, yes, the dog who cannot resist a muddy pond when the temperature rises about 65 degrees. So instead of cute polar bear pictures, you get shots of a muddy dog wallowing in hay that used to be clean.  I apologize for that now.

Paula in Nevada sent me a link to a site that I simply MUST share with you!

It's a website called http://www.ranching-with-sheep.com/   with a fascinating partner blog at http://ranching-with-sheep.blogspot.com/ .  I just loved it!  The author, Arlette Seib, has a  style that is as stark, simple and beautiful as the Canadian prairie that she writes of.  An earthly spirituality emanates from many of her posts. 

In "Out Here The Air Has Eyes" you can literally "feel" the coyotes watching.  I'm still exploring the site, but you must take a moment to read, "Fixing the Past or Creating The Future?" and "When Old Friends Die."

When she wrote "The Ending Of A Life" I felt her pain and I was reminded of a black day last winter when I was forced to do the same thing . . . 

(Read: Tomorrow is Another Day   and  Ready for Tomorrow )

Please take a moment to look at her website and read her blog.  Your life will be richer for it.  I, for one, will never gripe about another Texas winter.

The Great White Beast spies an intruder . . .

"Prepare to be disassembled, Intruder!"

"Oh, good grief!  You're kidding, right? The sheep aren't even out here!"

 "NO! You are wolf! I am a wolf-killer!"

"But I'm poopin'!"

"Prepare to die, Wolf!"

"Tag!  You're it!"

 And thus continues the saga of Ralph & Sam, the wolf & the Sheepdog . . .  off-duty!

The sheep are lambing and so Briar has been pulled out of the pasture.  She is still a giant baby and I don't want any accidents with the lambs. 

She visits with them daily while I can supervise her and sleeps beside the fence at night. 

Briar has recently proven to me that she is quite the agile little critter (agile Big Critter?).  Do you see how high these stall doors are?

Did you know that a certain Big White Dog can climb these stall doors to get in with her sheep?  Very impressive.  I was inside the sheep pen and had left Briar locked in the barn. A few minutes later I turned to find her ambling through the sheep.  Whudathunkit?

 I'm now convinced that if coyotes climb into the pen with the sheep at night, then Briar is quite capable of climbing the fence to get inside and protect them.  Pretty darned good for a mutt dawg! See!  Blood will tell . . . I'm sold on these Big White Dogs now. 

Despite her appearance, underneath all that fluffy hair is a lean, mean, climbing machine!

Briar is a Great Pyrenees/Komondor cross.  That little brown & white dawg behind her is a Liver-coated Sneak-Stalking Sheepdog!

This is for all the people who have an uncommon breed of dog, or a Border Collie that isn't black & white:

One of our Homicide Investigators saw a photo of Trace.

"That's my new puppy," I said.

He peeked at the camera phone. "Oh. It's a Springer."

"Actually, he's a Border Collie."

Pulling the photo closer to his face, he verified that Trace WAS a little brown and white dog. "Looks like a Springer cross," he said.

"Yeah, he does, but he's really a Border Collie. We drove all the way to Oklahoma to get him."

Then he gave me the polite, patient look that is usually reserved for little old ladies who have just been duped out of cash by the widow of a Nigerian prince on the internet.

Oh dear!  Poor Trace will forever be marked as a mutt because he isn't black & white.  It's okay.  I've had Belgian Tervuren for 20 years, so I'm used to it. The public thinks they're longhaired German Shepherds, or Afghan-Collie crosses.  We had family members who tired of trying to pronounce the breed name and simply called them "Albanian Lavernes."  So it stuck. 

Meet my first Albanian Laverne:

Perhaps I should come up with some clever herding dog breed name for Trace!  Maybe I can call him a:

. . .  Celtic Collie!

. . . .A Cheyenne Shepherd!

a Highlands Herding Dog!

Or what he is . . .

a Liver-Coated Sneak-stalking Sheepdog
 

CRASH through the work day! 

The weekend is NEAR!

If you have goats, you never run out of fence work to be done.

Over the years I've been systematically replacing sagging field fencing (which goats drag down by climbing on them) with cattle panels. (very $$$ project!)

But I told myself that in the end, I would have this farm completely fenced in cattle panels which will keep in sheep, goats, cattle and horses!  Unfortunately I didn't figure on having The Goat King.

Oh, he's a handsome rascal, isn't he?  But this is the Border Collie of horses!  (I know this because I've raised him since he was "knee high to a grasshopper!" ) Montoya is a 'thinking' horse.  Thinking horses are good because they don't tend to explode out from underneath you when you're riding them.  Thinking horses are bad because they tend to tear shit up to get the things they want. (pardon my French)

See this fence line?

 I didn't put those panels up like that!

 SOMEONE (someone BIG) is standing on my cattle panels and dragging them down so he can get behind them.  SOMEONE then walks all over the downed cattle panels, thus twisting and contorting them so badly that they can 'barely' be tacked back up again!

 I can understand this. Force of Nature. It happens.

But this also appears to be a Force Of Nature  . . .

. . . a very expensive Force Of Nature who needs to become intimate with hot wire!

 "Whut?  WHUT?!!"

Read more about The Goat King:

Trespassers will be eaten!

Perhaps I need to post this photo on the front gate for foolhardy meter-readers who by-pass "WARNING - POLICE SERVICE DOG" signs.

Actually, Lily bit her tongue.

She continued to work as the blood steadily dripped.  (Poor kid)  It mixed with saliva, (Lily drools when she works sheep.) and in no time Lil looked like a "slavering beast!"  NO SHEEP WERE HARMED! (But Rasta now has a better understanding that she shouldn't attack Lily.) The dog looked so bad that I was afraid she had broken a tooth, but upon thorough examination, it seems that she had just bitten her tongue badly. It made me wince just to look at it, but it didn't slow the little dog down a bit.  What a trooper!

(Don't ask me why I name the sheep, but when I begin to recognize them as individuals, they seem to end up with names.  Rasta is so nasty that she certainly stands out enough to deserve a name.)