The Twelfth Day of Homesteading Christmas

The 12 Days of Homesteading Christmas

On the First day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

A blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Second day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Third day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Three snotty noses (one with hay,)

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Four roosters raging,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Fiiiiiiivvvveee Beg-ging Doooooogs,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Six acres to sqare bale,

Fiiiiiiivvvveee Beg-ging Doooooogs,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Seven does a-moaning,

Six acres to square bale,

Fiiiiiiivvvveee Beg-ging Doooooogs,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Eighth day of Christmas,  my true love gave to meeeee,

Eight Bob's a-swimming,

Seven does a-moaning,

Six acres to sqare bale,

Fiiiiiiivvvveee Beg-ging Doooooogs,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Ninth day of Christmas,  my true love gave to meeeee,

Nine falling fenceposts,

Eight Bob's a-swimming,

Seven does a-moaning,

Six acres to sqare bale,

Fiiiiiiivvvveee Beg-ging Doooooogs,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Ten bales of hay,

Nine falling fenceposts,

Eight Bob's a-swimming,

Seven does a-moaning,

Six acres to square bale,

Fiiiiiiivvvveee Beg-ging Doooooogs,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Eleven loads of laundry,

Ten bales of hay,

Nine falling fenceposts,

Eight Bob's a-swimming,

Seven does a-moaning,

Six acres to square bale,

Fiiiiiiivvvveee Beg-ging Doooooogs,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeee,

.......FORGET THIS!!!

I'm moving back to the city!!!!!

The Eleventh Day of Homesteading Christmas

The 12 Days of Homesteading Christmas

 

On the Eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Eleven loads of laundry,

Ten bales of hay,

Nine falling fenceposts,

Eight Bob's a-swimming,

Seven does a-moaning,

Six acres to square bale,

Fiiiiiiivvvveee Beg-ging Doooooogs,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

Seeing Eye Chicken

The skunk struck again. 

We lost four of the six PaddyMolly chicks to some sort of predator a couple of nights ago, and then another one keeled over the next evening, presumably from injuries sustained in that skirmish.  She had appeared weak, but figured she would be okay.

That leaves us with uno.

Ellie May has been visiting the City Cousin through all of this, and is going to be none too impressed when she comes home, i fear.

Soooo...i have thrown the two misfits together, and it seems to be a match made in heaven.

The banty chick has become a guide for the hen.   The chick goes to the food bowl and pecks on the side until Earl walks over in the direction of the sound and steps on the chick.  At this point she knows she must be close and starts feeling around until she finds the food.  Same process goes for the waterer.

 For her part, Earl gives the chick piggy back rides, and, when Jewels comes sniffing around, protects the chick under her wing. 

 Note the blank glare.  So far Jewels is buying the act and staying clear.

Never a dull moment, huh?

The Tenth Day of Homesteading Christmas

The 12 Days of Homesteading Christmas

On the Tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Ten bales of hay,

Nine falling fenceposts,

Eight Bob's a-swimming,

Seven does a-moaning,

Six acres to square bale,

Fiiiiiiivvvveee Beg-ging Doooooogs,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

The Ninth Day of Homesteading Christmas

The 12 Days of Homesteading Christmas

On the Ninth day of Christmas,  my true love gave to meeeee,

Nine falling fenceposts,

Eight Bob's a-swimming,

Seven does a-moaning,

Six acres to square bale,

Fiiiiiiivvvveee Beg-ging Doooooogs,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

The Eighth Day of Homesteading Christmas

The 12 Days of Homesteading Christmas

On the Eighth day of Christmas,  my true love gave to meeeee,

Eight Bob's a-swimming,

Seven does a-moaning,

Six acres to sqaure bale,

Fiiiiiiivvvveee Beg-ging Doooooogs,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

Time Lapse

Okay, so i have admitted to you that i have been accused of having a "blatant disregard for time."

And i am alright with that.

Most of the time i don't have any idea what day of the week it is, let alone what day of the month it is.

It was the week of Thanksgiving before i flipped the calendar...the one that is prominent in the kitchen...over to November.

One day is the same  as the next when you have a mess of animals.  There is no weekend.  There is no vacation.  There is no time off.  Barn chores must be done whether it is Sunday or Christmas.  Or both :o)

But this still doesn't explain the huge boo boo regarding 12th Night. 

In the wee hours of this morning, while i was still snoozy, i was plotting my day, thinking, "I'll post "8 Bob's a-swimming," and then there will be four more left."  And then i ponder the fact that yesterday was Christmas.  And that Epiphany is on the 6th of January.  Always.

Have you been laughing at me, or just scratching your heads wondering what i was thinking?

I have NO idea how i worked out the timing of the start and ending of my little diddy.  I have been looking at the calendar, and it doesn't even work out to finish on the 31st of December, so that wasn't where my head was. 

The only thing i can say is that i was typing and setting it all up in the middle of the night one night when i couldn't sleep.  Perhaps i should have read, instead.

So we will just stay with what we got...I just wanted you to know that i KNOW when the Wise Men showed up...i just can't keep track of time.

It would appear that i could use some younger brain cells.
Or a vacation.

The Seventh Day of Homesteading Christmas

The 12 Days of Homesteading Christmas

 

On the Seventh Day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Seven does a-moaning,

Six acres to square bale,

Fiiiiiiivvvveee Beg-ging Doooooogs,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

Rejoice!! Rejoice!!

Merry Christmas!!!

Here's a little prezzy for ya--This recipe is from The Sweet Potato Queens' Big Ass Cookbook (and Financial Planner)  by Jill Conner Browne.

(I didn't get permission to reprint this recipe, but Jill, surely you know that recipes as good as these are bound to become public domain...and besides, i am plugging your book!!)

I highly recommend this cookbook, have never made anything out of it that wasn't fabulous.  I even make stuff from this cookbook to take to gatherings without testing them first--the recipes are THAT GOOD!!!  But it is not for the diet conscious.  Most all recipes involve either butter (and that is BUTTER, NOT margarine) or bacon.  And there are very strict rules about using dark (not light) brown sugar and real vanilla in running over measurements.  But hey, life is short...drive fast and eat cheese.

This is the most requested and fastest disappearing cookie in my repertoire.

Mimi's Butterfinger Cookies

Combine:

1 c sugar

1  1/3 c dark brown sugar

1 stick butter

4 eggs

3 t vanilla

Add:

2 1/2 c chunky peanut butter

Combine:

2 c flour

1 t baking soda

1/2 t salt

Add dries to wets

Chop up 20 oz of butterfingers and add.

Drop and bake on lightly greased sheet or parchment, or make a slice-and-bake roll and freeze (recipe makes a big batch, so i usually bake half and freeze half, dough freezes really well, and later on you can be a hero in 15 minutes or less.)

350/7-9 min


I wish for all of you the Peace that is of The Gift we are given, if we only choose to accept it.

Merry Christmas

The Sixth Day of Homesteading Christmas

The 12 Days of Homesteading Christmas

 

On the Sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Six acres to square bale,

Fiiiiiiivvvveee Beg-ging Doooooogs,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

Merry Christmas, Every One

Earl Update:  Earl is doing well, and enjoying her advanced status of invalid house chicken, which has allowed her to remain indoors full time for the last week.  She has been out for a couple of forays into the kitchen and dining area (no carpet,) and it appears that her eyesight is repairing to a certain extent.  She still does not have great vision, but is now finding the food and water bowls on her own, and as of day before yesterday, was jumping up to roost on the top edge of the tub she has been living in for the last several days.  Last nite she was wandering around the dining area and tried to jump up on one of the chairs, so we put a towel on the back to allow her to get a grip, and she settled in for a good 15 minutes and watched as i prepared dinner.  Earl dropped about 4 bombs before i finally had enough (not to worry, she was plenty far enough away from the food prep area) and send her back to her tub, where she pleaded and cajoled for a bit before finally giving up and going to sleep.  She continues to improve, and we (i) remain hopeful that she will some day return to the yard.

We at Tales Up Homestead wish you all a wonderful holiday. 

Enjoy the time with your families. 

Make some memories. 

Eat too much. 

Blessed is the Season

That unites the

Whole World

In a conspiracy

Of Love.

Merry Christmas

The Fifth Day of Homesteading Christmas

The 12 Days of Homesteading Christmas

On the First day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

A blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Second day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Third day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Three snotty noses (one with hay,)

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Fiiiiiiivvvveee Beg-ging Doooooogs,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

Ducking Work

The pink pool finally bit the dust.

Unfortunately, it can't be replaced until spring.
Fortunately, we have had quite a bit of good rain the last couple of weeks, and the ponds around here are filling back up.

Unfortunately, the dry bed of the pond got used for various purposes (like target practice) over the course of the summer, and a lot of the junk did not get removed before the rain came.
Fortunately, the ducks don't care.

The Bobs weren't quite sure what to think.

They went this way......

...and that way....

...and finally headed for the water...

...got their feet wet...

...tested the water....

...nope.  Too cold. We're outta here!!!

And they headed back to the barn.

Better luck next time.

The Fourth Day of Homesteading Christmas

The 12 Days of Homesteading Christmas

On the First day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

A blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Second day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Third day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Three snotty noses (one with hay,)

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Four rowdy roosters,

Three snotty noses,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

The First Three Days of Homesteading Christmas

**note: read the posting below this, "Little Orphan Earlie," FIRST, or you are gonna think i have lost my marbles.

The 12 Days of Homesteading Christmas

On the First day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

A blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Second day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

On the Third day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeeee,

Three snotty noses (one with hay,)

Two sparing bucks,

And a blind chicken in the pan-try.

Little Orphan Earlie

Earl stands at the edge of the universe.
Watch out, that next step is a doosey.

Been an "E Ticket" ride around these parts lately.  Don't even know where to begin.

No, REALLY, i don't know where to begin.

Here are the pertinent facts so that you will understand the song we are about to sing.

First of all, Earl had a really bad day last Sunday.
Apparently, my nerves weren't the only ones she was standing on, and the pack of rowdy roosters sought to set matters straight. 
Ellie May is way more into the psychology of chickens than i am, so she can explain the why's of the behavior, but the net/net is that they tend to police themselves with a leather gloved iron fist, eliminating the weak and the threatening.

And, apparently, the annoying.  

The roosters were trying to eliminate Earl, and were basically trying to peck her eyes out.  Sorry, squeamish, but that is what was going on.

Jethro snatched her from the jaws of death, and we moved the PaddyMolly chicks on out into the hen house so Earl could take up residence in the laundry room/pantry, which is now doubling as the infirmary.

The wounds have healed, but Earl is pretty much blind.  We think she has some periphery vision, but are still trying to figure out where we are with this thing. 

What do you do with a BLIND CHICKEN, for crying out loud???!!!

It would be easy to figure out, if it weren't for the fact that everyone loves her (except the roos.)  (Just because she was annoying me doesn't mean i didn't think she was cool...)  We are all taking turns sticking her head in the food and water bowls, and she is getting carried around on a pillow, so is not lacking for attention.

But WHAT do you do with a blind chicken??!!!

SHEESH!!!!!!

So there is that.

Let's see...Ralph was down for a good week, really starting to worry me, so gave him a little shot 'o somfin, and he seems to be recovering.   Went on rounds with me this morning, so that is a good sign.

Moon and Sparta have been acting like a couple of idiots, or as my Aunt Lu used to say, I-Dots.  They are head butting each other like they are trying to connect railroad cars, and Lance does the happy feet bounce all around them while they are going at it.  Think i am gonna have to start calling them The Three Stooges.

The washing machine curled up and died the same week we actually started getting rain, so everything has been getting muddy, and then staying that way until i can trek into town to the laundromat.

The two legged kids have had the grunge, and gave it to Jed.  So far i have avoided it. 

And, because three snotty noses in the house just isn't good enough for me, Becky, Splendora and Cherry decided to do the same for me outside the house.

Actually, Becky and Splendora have snotty noses.

Cherry, being who she is, has to one-up them, by having a snotty nose with hay.

So, i am trying to get in the Spirit of the Season, but am thinking about how things seem to be circling the drain right now, and the beginning of this song just POPS into my wee small brain.

And it made me giggle.

If i had thought of this a couple of days earlier, we could have started in time to follow the "12 Days of Christmas," but since we missed that we are just gonna jump in and get caught up, so at least, if all goes well, we should end up right.

My friends, i present to you.....

The 12 Days of Homesteading Christmas

...to be sung each day to give you a smile, and to make you thankful you are where you are.

There Is Beauty Everywhere

There is a roadrunner that lives up the road.  Actually, i am pretty sure there are several of them, but they all look alike to me, so i cannot speak to how many there actually are.  In order to avoid overload, i am going to pretend that there is just one.  His name is Bob.

This morning, Roadrunner Bob ran in front of the car, got to the side of the road, and then stopped.  I backed up, and dug out the camera.  Oddly, Bob stood still for just long enough.  Then he continued running.  Took some shots of that, too, but Bob's camouflage was in fine working order, and all i got were pictures of brown sticks.

So i go on around the corner, and i see a row of steaming fencepost's.  Unfortunately, the steam didn't show up very well in the photo.  It is just gonna have to be whirled peas.  Use your imagination.  It was very cool.  Literally and figuratively.

Maybe you can see the whispies a little better in this shot.  Sort of.  Oh well.  Whirled Peas.  It really was beautiful.  Almost magical.  Wish you had been there.

And then, on the way home, a turtle was crossing the road.  Or maybe it was a tortoise.  I never know the difference.  His name is Bob, anyway. 

Missed the Bob shot.  He wasn't nearly the camera hog that Bob was earlier.

It was a nice morning.  There was loveliness everywhere i looked.

Earl The House Chicken

Some people put Santa's on their roofs this time of year.

Some folks have rooster weather vanes.

We have Earl.

She is not there as a decorative element.

She is stalking us, and has found this to be the best vantage point for said activity.

Earl is driving me crazy. 

Fortunately for her she is too small to be worth the effort, otherwise i might be tempted to throw her in a pot with some celery and carrots.

And i am not even going to go into what she is doing all over the back porch.

Know i have been remiss with the stories of late...sorry 'bout that.

That time of year, and we have been crazy bizzzzzzzy.

But everyone is well.

Just trying to keep all the wheels turning.

Hope yours are turning, too.

Extreme Shepherding

Okay, i know i sent this to a bunch of you, but the rest of the world needs to see it.

My hat is off to these guys, and their dogs!!!

http://www.wimp.com/sheeplight/

Be sure and have your sound on.

Soap Bubbles

I am a "glass half full" kinda person.
A "there is always a silver lining" thinker.
Generally don't get upset if "all's well that ends well."

Except when it comes to the Custome Home.

I have had a REAL hard time finding the love for this place.

I LOVE the land....and am most grateful for the roof over my head--don't get me wrong.

But not wild about the house.
In SOOOoooo many ways.

Now, the cool thing about the land is that it is one of the first four homesteads that established this county 150 years ago.  Lots of history in these parts, and i dig that.

But back in the '80's the original homestead was destroyed.  At the time, the owners were very, very old, and i suspect that the house was built as "cost effectively" as possible because the folks were not expected to live much longer.  Turns out they spent less than three years here before one passed and the other moved in with family, and the land, that had been in the same family all that time, was sold.

I could go on an on about the....um...difficulties with this house.  But i won't.  Because i am so very happy to have a home at all.  (There is a story there, about how it came to be my home, but i will save that for another day.  Lets just say i wasn't on board at the onset.)  And it does have a set of built in shelves in the pantry that were made specifically for canning jars.  I do like that.  Only works well for quarts, but still...

Probably the thing i hate most is the master bath.  If you care to call it that. 

I am a bath person. 
I am a bath TUB person.
In fact, i think it is fair to say that i am a lounging in a claw foot tub person.

Before Jed, i rented a house one time based solely on the bathtub. 
The house itself was okay enough, but the tub was a thing of beauty.
It was long and wide, with a perfect slope at the back, knobs that you could operate with your toes to adjust the water temp as needed, and a lovely, oh so lovely wide ledge on the side for my books and water glass or coffee cup, and all the smell-goods and girly stuff ya gotta have in the tub.
Oh, that was such a great tub. 

The Custome Home has a shower stall.
The cheapest, smallest, barely passes the minimum OSHA requirements acrylic shower stall.

There is a small ledge at about 4 feet high.  Just enough that you can easily knock off a bottle each of shampoo and conditioner.

Every time i drop the soap and bend over to pick it up, the door pops open.
I have quit shaving my legs because it is just plain impossible to do.  MAYBE when i was 20, but not now.

And it is acrylic.  I HATE acrylic.
And TINY.

This morning, however, i found the silver lining in such a small shower.

I started to slip.

And ya know how when something like that starts to happen, how ya have that split second where you can see it all before it happens?

I saw myself goin' down.

And then i stopped.

My feet only splayed about three inches before they were stopped by the sides of the shower.

Disaster was averted.

The silver lining was revealed to me.

My shower is too small to fall in.

Isn't that great?

Finally...An HONEST Politician!!!

This one is probably gonna get me in trouble.

But really, it was just too good to pass up.

Since this post is probably gonna have to be censored for the kiddywinks, I'm gonna bring one out i've been saving.

The first time i saw this billboard was the week that Sparta and Moon messed up all my

Happy Thoughts.

As i drove by i thought,

"No thanks, mine have enough."

Okay, that is enough of the off color jokes.

Hey!  At least i didn't tell a dirty one!!!

Now that i think about it, have you heard the one about......

Never mind.

Back to the Family Channel.

Can We Have A Word?

Psssssst.

Pssssst.  Earl. 

Over here.

Think you could snag some Twizzlers for us the next time you sneak into the house?

We'll make it worth your while.

Meet Banty and Clyde

This pair sticks together, and keep to themselves. 

They don't hesitate to run off Earl, and i can't even do that! 

Earl says "Hi," by the way.

Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?

It's a sorry state of affairs when it is more cost effective to herd with a couple of diesel trucks than it is with horses. 

The "cowboys" shook a bag of creep, threw it in the back of the truck, and drove off.

And the cows just followed along.

Gives new meaning to the term "drover."

'Course bovines aren't known for having brains. 

The guy bringing in the stragglers (you can see him in the background of the first picture) said it was easier to round them up on horseback.

But i guess there just ain't no arguin' with The Man.

Or the Accountant.

Manger Heads

 

These are the manger keyholes that Splendora squeezed herself through the day she discovered cookies.

Can you imagine that?

Of course, i might just squeeze myself through one of those to get to a handful of cookies, too!

Okay, maybe not for cookies, but CERTAINLY for one of Breezy's cheesecakes.

 I love talking to the girlies when they have their heads in the manger.

One of my favorite farm things is watching them munch hay from the diary side.

You can love on them and talk to them, pull their ears and give them treats, but they can't step on your toes.

Or untie your shoes.

Or your shorts.

Chickory thinks it is cute to pull dangley strings.

Be sure to wear a belt if you walk into the doe yard.

Velcro tennies are a good idea as well.

She hasn't figured out Velcro, yet.

I love the manger.

It was custom built by Jed, just for me.

It holds an entire square bale of hay.

Lots of mangers only hold a partial bale, or a few flakes.

This means you get hay stickies and nasties all over you when you fill it.

Then you have to take a shower or you itch all day.

BUT....when you are the proud owner of a Custom Built Manger, you can usually brush off the stickies and nasties.  Or most of them, anyway.

(A couple of years ago i wore my favorite cool and comfy shirt to bring in the hay from the field after baling. A year later i was still picking tiny pokies out of the weave of the fabric, and it was a shirt that went through the wash every week.  Hay is some insidious stuff, y'all.) 

The only problem with the manger is that the chickens like to sit eggs in there.

They find it much preferable to the zillion dollar nesting boxes in the specially constructed Pullet Palace.

Whatever.

Speaking of chickens, Earl is fine, thanks for asking.

Am about to decide she thinks she is a dog. 

She believes she should come in the house like Jewels and Maka.

She insists on being fed with the Boyz.

She is hanging out at the back door like the freeloaders.

She follows me around the homestead and chatters while i do chores.

And when i drove up to house yesterday, she was a part of the melee that greeted me at the car door.

It has gotten to where i go out the front door and walk around the house, just to avoid the stupid chicken.

My life is ruled by animals.

The Most Beautiful Goat In The World

Words escape me.

Every time i see this picture i laugh.

Can't even think of a caption to do it justice.

She just doesn't know when to quit. 

And the sad part about it is, for all her...shall we say, physiological issues...she has the best topline in the barnyard.

Sigh.

Family Photos

Ya know how hard it is to get a good group shot of your kids? 

Well, it is even harder when they are goats.

I was hoping for One Big Happy Family shots, so i brought out the big guns....Fig Newtons.
Best i could get was groupings.
First, may i present our Senior Does:

Becky, Chickory, Dosidoe, and...um...Cherry

Although Cherry B. qualifies for "Senior Doe" according to age, i hesitate to include her in the Sr. Doe picture.   Heck, i hesitate to call her a "doe" at all.   {Don't tell Jethro, okay?  That can be our little secret.  We all know why she is here, and why she ain't goin' anywhere.}

And then we have the Junior Does...

Maud, Paris and Splendora


Note the wallflower in the background...Maud STILL hasn't figured out the cookie thing, but obviously Paris and Splendora have.

I took about a zillion shots just to get these two marginal pictures.

A lot of the problem was that the girls insisted on mugging for the camera.

I just missed the one where Paris was holding up one hoof and doing the "horns" thing behind Dosidoe's head.

They are all such goats.

Gone Too Far

Ok, this whole Earl thing is getting out of control. 

Earl the Pearl is living under the back porch.  This would put her in close proximity to the back door.  Which provides entree to the house.  Which she also considers her personal space.

She skinnies in the house every chance she gets, and goes directly to Jewels' water dish for a drink.  This is strictly a territorial move, as she has her very own water bowl right next to the porch.  Earl is just doing this to tick off Jewels.  And it is working.  Thank goodness chickens don't pee...there could be a REAL war going on in my house!!!!

Earl has also become rather demanding about meals.  All the other chickens take what you give them when you show up with it.  Not Earl.  She insists on dining with the dogs.  I feed on the back porch in the evening, and the stupid chicken was running around between the dog legs pitching a fit, so i have had to start feeding her at that time, as well, just to save her life.  We don't have serious food aggression issues with the dogs, but George does tend to talk trash.  And i have very strict rules around here about talking with your mouth full. 

And i have not even mentioned the incessant chattering and knocking at the back door.

But yesterday, this whole "house chicken" thing crossed a line.

I was getting in the car...a fluid movement--not sitting there with the door open while i looked for my keys or anything, just getting in the car...look down, and there is Earl, between my feet.

This is so very wrong.

And i just won't stand for it.

Gobble Gobble

In honor of the Feast of Thankfulness, i would like to dedicate the following to Susan Dear Susan to commemorate her feat of singlehandedly dispatching with a 38lb Tom....while the grandbaby slept!

http://images.businessweek.com/ss/05/11/egreetings/source/2.htm

After watching the turkey, continue to the next one, which is dedicated to The Baas, number four is dedicated to ALA, and the last one, well, that one...lets just say it is a good thing the udders around here don't jiggle like that.

Have a restful and delicious day of family and thanksgiving for our great good blessings.

If You Give A Dog A Cookie....

...It's gonna want a glass of milk.

Not really.

They are gonna want another cookie.

I have so very much in common with dogs.

On the front most corner of our property is the tall box with all the wires that the phone company uses to keep all the phones up and down this road in working order.  So if anyone around here is having phone trouble, the phone guy steps foot on our property.

And ya know, we got all these male dogs staking their claim to this turf, already.

This little yarn takes place before the Big Boyz arrived.  Back then, it was Ruby, Jake, Dulcie, Commando and Jewels.  Maka was with us, but this was back in the day when she was still slinking around in the bushes, watching.

There was a new house being built up the road (btw, "anonymous,"  i finally figured out who you are!!!  It was your house.  And thanks for the info on the belted galloways, hun, glad to know it, but i am gonna keep calling them fuzzy oreo cows--ya know i just love colorful vernacular! ;o} )  and we were getting several visits from the Phone Dude.

The Phone Dude for this area is not a fun guy.  More like a fungi.  A cranky guy.  And he lacks...oh....many things.  One of which is diplomacy.  Another is patience.  And....pardon me.  I am getting carried away.  Let's just say he is one of those people that is so unhappy and unpleasant that you just have to laugh at them.  But not to their faces.

After about the third time The Dude tries to get to the box, and all the dogs are doing their job, sounding the alarm, he comes up to the house and gives me whatfor.  Which i might have deserved, except that every time he showed up and the dogs went ballistic, we would go out there to call them off, and then stick around to make sure they didn't bother him.  We were trying to be responsible pet owners.  What may have happened when we were not home i cannot speak to.  But i can imagine, as his way of dealing with them was to throw his hands up in the air, yell at them, and try to run them down.  And you know what that means to a dog. 

Obviously this guy was a cat person.

So, i am thinking about the situation, trying to figure out how to maintain the peace, coz, ya know, i AM subversive by nature, but i really HATE ticking people off, and i really, REALLY hate getting reamed by unpleasant people.  And it occurs to me....the water meter is up in the same corner of the property, right next to the phone box.  The water meter reader comes once a month--i know this because we get evidence requiring response in the mail--and i didn't recall the dogs ever giving him a hard time. 

Hmmmmm.  

So i start watching for the meter reader. 

One day, i see him coming down the road, and assume an observation position.

The truck pulls up on the property, and out of nowhere, all the dogs come running toward him pell-mell. 

They all slam on the brakes and park in a semi circle around the meter. 

I mean, i am surprised they all didn't get headaches, they planted themselves so firmly.

You couldn't have found a better behaved, more alert formation at a Westminster Kennel Show.

The meter dude gets out of his truck...none of them moved.

He lifted the cover on the meter and did his meter reading thing...no one budged.

He put the cover back in place....and they got a little antsy, but remained seated.

And then, the guy reaches in his pocket and handed each one a biscuit.

The phone company has SOOOOOoooo much to learn from the water company.

Can You Say "Oxymoron?"

Huh.

REALLY???

These Boots Were Made For Walkin'

We have had a bit of rain lately...not a lot, but some.

For which we are MOST grateful, Father.  And we continue to ask for such moderate rain as to sustain life and the fruits of our labors, to Your honor and glory.

Looks like The Boyz found a mud hole, at any rate. 

Not a puddle, but better than cracked earth.

Skunkville

Got a regular visitor to the barn lately. 

Seems a skunk has been sight seeing 'round these parts at night.  Pretty sure he is the one that has dined on a couple of chickens, and given all of the dogs a spray at one time or another.  He is smart enough to spend most of his time in a section the big dogs can't get to.

Ellie was out doing barn chores, and came running in to let us know there was another sighting.

Jed and Jethro grabbed their weapons, and headed that way.

In a few minutes, they came back, sans skunk. {{thankfully}}

When queried about it, Jethro said, "Well, i see it this way.  What ever is behind the skunk is his, and whatever is in front of him he can have if he wants it."

Meet Earl and the PaddyMolly Chicks

Guess i may as well introduce y'all to Earl.  Looks like she is going to be playing a dominant role in our world. 

Earl thinks she is a house chicken.

Am starting to question this open door policy we have around here regarding the animals.

Susan Dear Susan has blown out her knee, and has been lightening her load.  In an effort to do our part, we took on some more of her banties, and the most recent batch of eggs to hatch.

In the banty mix was Earl.  Jethro named her.  We tried to talk him into at least calling her Earlene, but no dice.  Jethro and Earl have become fast friends.  The stupid chicken follows him around EVERYWHERE, including into the house.  Jealous Jewels is none too impressed.  This is the most socialized chicken i have ever seen, even more so than the beloved Angus. 

(What is it with us and the chicken names?  Angus and Earl are hens, Misty is a rooster.) 

Earl appears to be a natural talent, taking to the "Chicken Hat" trick like a duck to water.

And then, if that wasn't enough to give Jewels apoplexy, there are six chicks in the laundry room.  These are the only chicks from PaddyMolly and O'Malley. 

O'Malley will be headed this way as soon as someone can catch him, but PaddyMolly (the cutest, sweetest banty ever) met an untimely demise, so these are very special chicks. 

HMmmmmm....Tastes like chicken.

Junkyard Buck

Remember Sparkin' Sparta? 

Been through a spell of jumping and climbing over fences?

Couple of weeks ago we found him in the big pasture with the donkey standing over him.

Not sure what happened, coz i wasn't there, but figure either Sparta got caught on the barbed wire coming over the fence, or Sancho thought to taste the goat.

Either way, he was traumatized and his lovely pendulous ear got hacked up.

Quit jumping the fence, stayed real close to the hay manger.

I thought this was fine, small price to pay to teach the stinker to stay home where he belongs.

Rather tear up an ear than loose the whole goat to the predators in the south field.

And thank goodness he was hung up on that end, and not the other.

Sparkin' Sparta didn't learn his lesson, though.

Guess he got over the shell shock.

Back to hanging out at the girls gate.

Guys.

Whatta ya gonna do?

Will Dance For Cookies

Paris is officially a cookie monster. 

She will do just about anything for a cookie.

Splendora stepped on the Cookie Train this morning, and was so eager to have more that she squeezed half of her body through the keyholes in the manger (keeps their head in the manger while they are eating so they don't waste a bunch of hay) to get closer to the box.

Maud still hasn't figured it out.

Oddly, she is the smartest one of the bunch. 

Maybe she is just watching her figure.

Dosidoe

It would appear that Dosidoe wasn't too impressed with my last post.

She is thinking that perhaps i should moonlight with the DMV.

Sorry Dosidoe, you truly are an attractive girl.

Everyone has a bad picture taken now and then.

Dosidoe and eodisoD

Meet Dosidoe and her cousin from a distant planet, eodisoD.

Just kidding.

Can you tell i am getting a little braver with the computer?

Holes

I have a blond child.

Some days she is more blond than others.

This is forgiven most of the time because she is such a hard worker.
And she is cute.

Ellie takes on chores that the rest of us are loath to do.  Things like dealing with the chickens, untangling legs in a birth canal, or digging holes.

She was always the one to dispose of chicken carcasses, but Jed handled the big holes.  Until, several springs ago, we lost a beloved guardian dog. 

The Fair Lady Dulcinea, or Dulcie, as she was known (acquired about the same time as Donkey Xote and Sancho Panza--if we ever wind up with a horse it will be named Rozinante,)  went out with her boots on, doing her job of defending the homestead.  We are still not sure whether Dulcie tangled with the coyotes or the feral hogs, but at any rate, took a gash to the juggler and barely managed to make it back home.  It was a sore loss, as she was a good guardian, and a great personality.  She used to scare people that didn't know her, as her greeting was to bare her teeth...not in a menacing way, but in a doggy smile.  But if you hadn't seen it before, it could be rather intimidating.  Mostly because she was not a small dog.

Dulcie was half lab and half Great Pyrenees, therefore, she required a rather large hole.  The morning she passed was cold and wet.  A light drizzle added to the oppression of the task at hand.  Ellie, Jethro and i got our shovels, loaded Dulcie on the trolley, and picked out her spot in the pasture.  I don't remember how long we all dug together, but i remember being chilled and wet, and that my back hurt.  Jethro was still a fairly little guy, and had used all his energy.  I suggested we take a break and warm up, then dig some more in a bit.  Ellie told us to go in, that she wanted to finish the hole herself. 

And she did.

Jethro and i went back out to help lay Dulcie to rest, said our prayers, and then were dismissed, so Ellie could replace the dirt.

As i stood at the window watching my daughter deal with one of the hardest things about this life in her own way, i was reminded of a couple of things. 

When Ellie was about three or so, she started asking questions about my mother, and wanted to see her grave.  We went to the cemetery, and i sat there quietly while Ellie wandered around.  After a bit, she put her hand on my mother's heart shaped headstone, looked me in the eye, and with all the maturity of any child i have ever seen, said to me, "Your momma's heart is here, but she is in heaven.  Sometimes it just has to be that way."

A couple of years later, when visiting Paul Adeen's, she found a dead fish in his koi pond, and insisted on the two of them burying the fish together, under a cross in his garden.  Paul came back in the house, and we looked out a few minutes later to see the child dropping rose petals on the grave.  Yes, we both got all choked up.  I get all choked up just thinking about it.

Death of something or someone beloved is one of the hardest things we have to face on this planet.  I am amazed, and grateful, for my daughter's reverence for life, and the ability she has to cope with death.

To this day, most of the holes that are dug here, are dug by Ellie May, by her choice. 

Which brings us back to the blond moment...
Ellie May and i were just discussing goatie issues, and she said something about Andy, our dear departed buck.  As my brain is processing the fact that Ellie was gone for a large part of the decline and demise of Excellent Endeavor, she got a rather sheepish look. 

Apologetically, she said, "I'm sorry.  If i didn't bury him, i figure i must have misplaced him."

Fuzzy Cows

I am not a huge fan of cows. 

Unless of course they are on a plate in front of me with a bit of potato and a nice little tossed something.

Then i simply adore them.

But i keep passing these guys, and i must admit that i am somewhat smitten. 

I have no idea what kind of cows they are, but they are woolly and unusual. 

I am sure they must be insanely expensive. 

Not that i was gonna put them on my wish list, mind you. 

They are, after all, COWS. 

But they are kinda cute....don'tcha think?

Long ago and far away, in another life, i was friends with a cattle person that kept trying to teach me the difference between a "good" cow and a "bad" cow. 

I, being me, tried to eek a little fun out of the process by making things difficult.

After listening to instruction, tips and pointers ad nauseum, and learning more about the loin, brisket, topline, the triangulation of the three points of blah blah blah blah than i really cared to know at the time, i was finally quizzed on the dissertation and asked to make distinctions between cows.

I said that the only common denominator i could see was that bad cows had fuzzy ears.

This guy hung his head and just shook it.   

I was reminded of that friend today when i was taking pictures of the fuzzy oreo cows.

This old gal sauntered up to see what i was up to.

I would say that she has about the fuzziest cow ears i have ever seen.

Surely that doesn't make her a BAD cow.

Unless of course she is prone to playing pranks or doesn't show up for supper or something.

I mean, she LOOKS like she has tasty ribs, right?