
Farm Fresh BlogFriday, March 08 2013
The Kids brought the Grandkids by the farm today (to pick up tractor implements) on their way to The Rodeo held in The Big City. The Kids live on one side of The Big City and we live on the other side of The Big City. I get such a kick watching the little ones enjoy the farm. These have never been city kids. They are raising chickens themselves and have been around livestock since birth, but they don't have "Neigh-Neighs" at the house. So any trip over here involves feeding, petting, and riding horses. This little cowboy is gonna be a heartbreaker some day. He has graduated from riding the mini-horses to riding Joe and Scout.
he's a bit too daring. His dad has to keep a firm hand on the little rodeo rider. And all was well and good until his parents announced that it was time to get down and go to The Rodeo. After all, why pay and stand in line at The Rodeo Petting Zoo when he had his own petting zoo at Grandpa's house? Complete with full-size Neigh-Neighs! But he was a big boy about it and climbed down. Then his dad reminded him of the most important part of the ride . . .
There is something magical between a child and a horse. Thursday, March 07 2013
I see this both at work and on the farm. The Circle of Life can be a vicious Merry-Go-Round. It's not all cotton candy and sunshine. Sometimes the wolves are in hot pursuit as the carousel spins. Yesterday this little girl was born. Her mother is Dancing Cow. She pops out babies in all weather and is a very attentive mother. I never worry about Dancing Cow's calves. Then there is Daisy Mae. She is a registered Santa Gertrudis. Other Half paid a hefty price for her. My experience with cattle thus far is that if they have papers, there will be problems somewhere down the line. Just sayin'! The more money they are worth, the greater the risk. Last year Daisy Mae popped out the prettiest little bull calf - early. Here is his story: There's A Cow In My Bedroom , Thus far . . . , On Baby Birds, Norman, and Other Lessons In Futility
With the other cattle I wouldn't be worried, but since Daisy Mae had some issues last year, I trotted out there to check on them. I 'think' it's a bull calf. He appears to be full term. He's trying to nurse. She's attentive and trying to help him. Her teats are normally big. Now they are really big. He's having some trouble nursing. Naturally Other Half doesn't get back into town until tonight. Yeahhhhh . . . I really don't want a repeat of Norman. Thus far this little guy seems like he's healthy but if he can't nurse, we'll have to milk her. I use the term "we" loosely, since there is no one here but ME. It's not like I'm gonna be able to carry that calf, run Daisy Mae into a chute, milk her, and then bottle feed the baby by myself. Thus, I'm hoping that he figures it out on his own. If he hasn't nursed by this afternoon, I'll have to stay home from work to help Other Half milk her tonight when he gets home. (I'm sure my supervisor really doesn't want to get THAT call...) And sadly, if we have to milk her out, Other Half will end up selling poor Daisy Mae. He's already said that if she loses this year's calf, she's gone. I see the logic. We just aren't set up to coddle cows that need help calving. On the other hand, Daisy Mae is trying so hard to be a good mama, unlike Stupid Paisley whose baby survived DESPITE her poor mothering skills. (Read: When It Rains, It Pours ) So I say a prayer for Daisy Mae and her baby. He keeps trying. She keeps trying to help. And in the mean time, I keep looking at the clock and wondering when Other Half will be home.
Wednesday, March 06 2013
As you recall we sold my little farm to move into the "cow house" and buy the big property in North Texas. I was completely on board with this except for one tiny little detail . . . I didn't like the "cow house." The "cow house" needs lots of work both inside and out. At first I wasn't planning on doing it simply because I have neither the time nor the money for home renovation, but then I discovered Annie Sloan paint. It all started innocently enough, you see. Our furniture didn't match. Mine didn't match his. At first I just planned to send a few pieces off to get them distressed and painted. ("distressed" is a relative term in this home. We have dogs, therefore ALL our furniture is "distressed" in some way.) I love the look of distressed and "white-washed" furniture, and the more I looked around the house, the more furniture I wanted painted. I soon realized I didn't have enough money to hire someone to do this. :( Enter Annie Sloan. On my way to work every day I pass a little cottage on the highway that recently put out a banner which read: "We sell Annie Sloan chalk paints." Hmmmm... what is Annie Sloan paint? So I got on the internet and discovered that Annie Sloan was the answer to my prayers! Here was a type of paint which was easy to work with, easy to distress, easy to white-wash, and didn't require me to strip or sand! In fact, with this paint, you are only limited by your imagination. ("Hot Damn, Loretta! Sign me up!") While researching Annie Sloan paint, I stumbled upon this: Be still my beating heart!
I went back to the little cottage to buy some paint and ended up signing up for a class on painting techniques. That was Saturday. My life hasn't been the same since. I've mentally painted everything in the house, from the walls and furniture to the lamps. I literally painted the dog. This dog now sports a sage green line down the side of her face. Don't tell Other Half. (That's what he gets for leaving his new patrol dog at home.) The kitchen, which was a dark place with pine cabinets and holly green walls, was my first victim. (If I'm lyin', I'm dyin'!) Other Half apparently was more concerned with putting in a new roping arena than with re-painting the house when he first bought it, (Single men think that way.) so those walls have been that dark for years. Ladies and Gentlemen, I white-washed those suckers today! It was so easy I almost cried. I've suffered that kitchen for years and all it took was 4 hours and one can of paint. Tomorrow I'll put on the wax. I still need to re-do the floor and put knobs on the cabinets, but the room, ahh, the room! I can SEE in there now! It's like God said, "Let there be light." I'm so happy with this paint that I wish I had known about it when I had my little farm house. I would have painted those cabinets too! My advice to you is this: If you want to jazz up things around your house, play on "The Purple Painted Lady" website to get some ideas, and then buy yourself some Annie Sloan paint. You won't be sorry!!! (And YES! That paint is well worth the $38 for that tiny little can!) Tuesday, March 05 2013
Saturday, March 02 2013
Aja is settling in nicely, but her first day to meet the pack was touch and go. (literally) Because we have so many dogs it's necessary to pair them off into sub-packs so they can still live like dogs and have family time with us. In order to accomplish this, Aja needed a friend. The obvious candidate was Ranger the Blue Heeler. He has social skills, and he's tough enough to handle a big girl like Aja.
What Aja lacked in social skills, she made up for in exuberance.
But he soon got things under control and began to teach Aja the subtle art of play.
Now this worked out well. Ranger has taught lots of puppies and is both tough and patient. The next best candidate as a playmate for Aja was Dillon. The problem was that although Dillon has lots of doggy social skills because he was raised in a large pack, he has never accepted a new member into the pack and was initially afraid and hostile. After watching her for a day or so, we tried them together.
Unfortunately Aja didn't understand the game. She just wanted him to drop the club and wrestle with her like Ranger does. As you can see from his hackles, Dillon was more than a little frightened of her "Baby Huey" antics. And then he discovered the perfect way to deal with an overenthusiastic playmate. When he swings his head toward her, the end of the club smacks the crap out of Aja. She either gets out of the way, grabs the club, or gets the s@*t whacked out of her. Girlfriend never did learn not to rush up and try to pounce him, so she took lots of smacks with the club.
I'm happy to report that after a week, she is fitting in well. She and Ranger are best buddies and she plays with Dillon too. Aja still hasn't figured out the club game, but she doesn't get smacked as much now, and he isn't as afraid of her. After much study, I've come to the conclusion that he actually smacks the crap out of her on purpose. When she gets too rough, he swings that club and lets her have it. "Alright Sister, try it again!"
Sunday, February 24 2013
Oli has a message for you . . . "Retirement does NOT suck!" Saturday, February 23 2013
Aja (pronounced like "Rajah") is a 4 year old sable German Shepherd. She is Other Half's 5th patrol dog in his 34 year career. Just watching her play in the yard reminds me how much I do love a German Shepherd.
Friday, February 22 2013
Well, Other Half returned home with his new patrol dog yesterday. Since I was already at work, I met him in The Big City so I could meet Aja before I came home. Rule #1 When You Live With A Police Dog - Make sure the dog knows YOU! It is probably not a good idea to walk into a dark bedroom in the middle of the night with a dog that bites if that dog does not know you. Even if the dog is in a kennel, it's a bad way to meet said dog. So I met them and played with her before he took her on home. She is an AWESOME dog. Very personable. Very friendly. Very high drive. Girlfriend will stand on her head for tennis ball. So satisfied that the dog knew me, I went back to work, and he went on home. Here is his report on his arrival at home: Briar wanted to kill her. No surprise there. Aja is a Predator Deluxe. Ranger and Cowboy think she is the sexiest thing they've ever seen.
Dillon is still in shock. He was aggressive at first but now he's re-thinking his initial impression. We still won't put them together.
Oli likes her just fine. They have no reason to be friends, but at least they're not trying to eat each other. Oli is not jealous in the least bit. She is happy to be a house pet.
Since even on a good day, Trace is a troll. We haven't let him meet her yet. Ice doesn't care one way or the other. She lives in her own little world and just wants the other dogs to stay out of her way.
But the most amusing reaction came from Lily . . . . . . Other Half reported that Lily took one look at this new member of the family, silently turned her back on them and walked away. She refused to even be curious. "You brought home ANOTHER dog?!! Really?!! ANOTHER dog! Are you freakin' kiddin' me? Alright Mister. You need to understand that I have seniority around here. Me!!! This better not affect my pay or benefits not one bit, Mister!"
Thursday, February 21 2013
Other Half is on his way home with his new patrol dog, Aja. Early reports are that she was quite enthusiastic about being sprung out of "doggy jail" (vet clinic kennel) and is tickled pink in her new role as Other Half's new partner. He has introduced her to such novelties as Cracker Barrel cuisine (a new favorite!) and hotel room beds. (another new favorite.) Aja reports that clearly Life has been holding back on her. Other Half is now her new Best Friend. Meantime, on the home front, Oli is settling into her new role as a couch potato house dog. Oli LIKES being a retired dog! She reports that retirement was "under-rated" and everyone should try it. Since she is adapting so well to retirement I don't expect any complainants from her when Other Half comes home with this new patrol dog. Oli has announced that she is now "Mommy's dog," and has moved into the house full time. Aja is due home this afternoon, just about the time thunderstorms will be sweeping through the area. Joy. Joy. Thrill. Thrill. We will be trying to integrate 9 dogs while dealing with the weather. Trust me, Ringling Brothers has nothing on this family . . .
Tuesday, February 19 2013
Each morning after I feed the livestock, I take Briar for a walk so she Note: Early morning=shavings still stuck in her fur. It's a peaceful time for reflection . . . . . . and rolling in horse poop. I like the above shot because you can actually see the horse cookies shoved into the air by her antics. But I notice something else too. "Hey Briar, you need your toenails clipped!"
"Ewe keN rEeLLy sUk tha LIfe rIte owtta a WaLk, mOm!"
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