Naptime Conversation

Mommy: "What did you do today?"

Conan: "Played with Pap-pa."

Mommy: "Played with Grandpa? Fun! What else?"

Conan: "Played outside."

Mommy: "That sounds like fun too. Did you see any baby goats?"

Conan: "Mmmmmhmmm. And a MOMMY goat!"

Mommy: "Oh. A Mommy goat? Was she with her babies? What was she doing?"

Conan: "Ummmm...  Eating them!"

Mommy: "Oh, I don't think she was eating them. She was just cleaning them off. She was giving them mommy kisses."

Conan: "No Mommy! No! She was eating them!"


And thus the argument was lost. One does not argue with a two year old at naptime. I will just have to live with my cannibalistic goats.

5 am Wake Up Call

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek

At the first sounds of the scream, I grabbed my pregnant belly and ran down the stairs as fast as I could waddle. I was thinking bloody nose, or at least vomit.

That was not the case.

Mommy: "What's wrong, Honey?"

Honor: "There..... was a.... scratchy noise..... over in the corner....by my desk."


We live on a farm.  It is a well known fact that farms are hosts to all sorts of wildlife from insects to various reptiles and mice.  We have mice.  We've had them out in the tack shed, milking shed, and chicken coop for a while. Honor was startled by one as she attempted to feed the horses their dinner one night and has since had quite the fear of the little creatures.  It took two days to get her to go back in the tack shed and then only after mouse traps had been set with her watching. Now she will only go if someone else is with her. About a month ago we started finding them in the garage--she refused to go in there without a sibling.  A few days ago we started noticing signs that they are now moving in the house.

I went out and bought 20 mousetraps.

Back to the story...

Ariana (quite angry):  "There wasn't any noise! I want to go to sleep!"

Honor: "Yes there was a noise! A chewing noise on my desk. And the balloon!"

Daddy walked in at that point and thought he would be helpful.

Daddy: "The balloon string IS really short. Maybe a mouse chewed through it."

Thanks, Daddy.

Mommy (Digging through all the papers and searching around the desk for chew marks): "No, the balloon string was that short last night. No mouse could reach it on the ceiling.  There is nothing over here by the desk.  Everything is just fine, Honor. I don't think there is a mouse in your room."

Honor: "I KNOW I heard scratching!  And I saw a shadow!"

Mommy: "Well, I really don't see any evidence of a mouse, Honey.  I think you were dreaming."

Honor: "No!  There was a mouse!  Or a bandit!"


Which confirmed for me that Honor suffers from waking dreams like her Mommy.
Poor Honor!

You May Say I'm a Dreamer...

We have eight La Mancha goats: six females, two males. Sometime this week, we are expecting to double that number. 

I have been studying You Tube videos of goat births for the last month. I have read articles on how to know when it's time, what type of medicine to give and when, birthing complications, and newborn health. The veterinarian came and checked all our does and determined they were all healthy and all six were pregnant. If our buck got them all pregnant the first day they were bred, they would all be due on February 19, 2012.

I was not ready.

Last night, I noticed that Little Maiden seemed to be "bagged up" meaning she had a full udder. It is hard to tell on a first time mom since the udder isn't stretched out much yet, but hers seemed fuller than the others. Daddy and I went out to check on her around 10:30 pm and she was lying on the ground. The other does immediately got up to see us, but she lay there. We figured she didn't need to get up since she was right by the door and left for the night.

Before I went to sleep, I watched a few more videos, and prayed that if she really did give birth in the middle of the night, that God would wake me. Oh me of little faith!

At approximately 3:45 am, I had a VERY vivid dream of Little Maiden stretching in a pre-labor pose (see about 45 seconds into this video to know what I mean). It was so clear, that I had the sudden urge to get out of bed and check on the goats. I actually got out of bed and walked to the restroom to wake myself up before getting dressed. While walking back through my room, I determined that I was just nervous and replaying the YouTube videos in my dreams. Eventually I convinced myself of this and fell back to sleep.

At 7 am this morning, I rushed out to the goat shed and found this:

Little Maiden and "Jack"

So, the moral of the story is: 

When you ask God to do something, 

pay attention when He answers...
there could be a huge blessing waiting for you!

Kiki

Jasmine in the "Hunter Orange" chest protector Daddy got her for when she dives through thorny bushes in search of elusive pheasants (and rabbits, but she's not supposed to look for those...)






Jasmine and Daddy preparing to hunt birds. Note the attentive look Jasmine is giving Daddy. Hunting birds is something she doesn't want to miss.






We started her off young. Jasmine is a fantastic hunting dog. It is in her nature.



Sigh.


Today while I was putting away the ponies, I heard a commotion coming from the chicken run. Honor had been in there grating citrus peels for the chickens (don't ask...I don't know why). From that distance, I couldn't see what the screaming was about, but I shut things up and got out to look. Then I saw it. Flashes of brown and white dashing back and forth.

I wasn't worried at first. I assumed Jasmine was outside the chicken run. But I was wrong. The fence had been opened and Jasmine was in full hunting mode.

I yelled for Daddy to intervene, but it was too late.

When I got to the run, Jasmine was out, and Daddy was holding a dying Kiki in his arms. In Jasmine's defense, we don't think she meant to kill her, but chickens aren't as easy to hold in her mouth as pheasants are and so she had to grab her around the neck instead of the body. I am calling it manslaughter rather than murder--she was only doing what she'd been trained to do.

Poor Honor was especially heart broken. I heard her tell Ariana on the way into the house, "I'm sorry I let Jasmine out to kill your chicken, Ariana."

I cuddled with Honor, Connor and Ariana on the couch for a bit (Samuel remains blissfully unaware of the incident). We talked about why it is important that we keep Jasmine in the kennel when we are all outside doing chores.

And then I promised them that we would get some more chicks. They were fine.

It helped that Kiki was Honor's least favorite chicken..."she pecked me two times!"

Actually Kiki was our most outgoing chicken. I shall miss her.

There was some small debate as to what should happen to Kiki's body. I was willing to make her dinner (she is a farm animal after all!), but Daddy couldn't handle that. So...he put her in a garbage bag and "buried" her in the dumpster.

To make the kids feel better, (and to distract them from "the burial") I told them they could give the remaining chickens some bread as a treat. That cheered them up.

On the way out to the chicken coop, I caught Honor sitting by herself next to a citrus tree--praying. What a special memory that came out of this sad event. It was a blessing to me to see Honor seeking comfort on her own from the only One who can truly provide it.



Goodbye, Kiki. You will be missed.

Visitor

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So, today, while I was changing Samuel's diaper, I looked out the window and saw something a bit unexpected...Bucky the bull came by for a visit with one of his friends and was staring at me through the window (bull snot is not easy to clean off glass). Now, if we had cows still in our pasture, this would not be as interesting, but our neighbor took the cows back three weeks ago! Apparently they are "staying" at the neighbor's house and felt like going for a little jaunt around the neighborhood.

Daddy called Ron and Ron came over with his pickup. Then he drove down the street slowly...and the bulls followed him. I couldn't believe it! They just walked calmly behind his truck back to the neighbor's pasture.

Silly bulls!

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Yee Haw...In the Evening

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Wednesday afternoon was a LONG one. Daddy and I had the opportunity to take a trip with some friends to Six Flags Magic Mountain. Since we have 4 children, 6 chickens, 3 cats, 2 ponies, 2 dogs, 2 chinchillas, and a pasture full of borrowed cattle, a two-day trip takes a lot of planning. Thankfully I have the best mother-in-law in the whole world who was willing to stay overnight in our home and oversee everything--with the help of our favorite teenager, Cousin Desiree.

But to make things easier, I prepared the farm before I left.

Grandma was not comfortable with letting the ponies in and out of the pasture, so I took extra long mucking the stalls--in 100* heat--for the ponies' extended stay. From there I moved to the trees, digging up 3 wheelbarrows full of compost and placing it around the base of the trees we had planted a few months ago. From there I went to halter Pip and Gimli for a "walk" in the backyard and a grooming so I could get some sort of fly spray on them before being left in the stalls.

That's where the day got interesting.

The kids had gotten up from their nap at this point so, in an attempt to keep them busy (and water my lawn), I gave them a water ball and told them to have fun in the front yard with Cousin Desiree. Daddy was busy making his own preparations for our vacation by installing security lights on the outside of our house, so when Samuel came over to get help with his shoes, I let go of the ponies' lead ropes to take care of him.

Gimli is never one to miss an opportunity.

As soon as my back was turned and he knew I was distracted, he bolted. But he doesn't like to cause problems by himself. No, he had to get his brother going too. So, where Pip was calmly eating grass, Gimli ran up behind him and bit him on the rear, inciting a game of tag around the house.

"Kids! Get next to the house. NOW!" I screamed as the ponies went galloping around our circular driveway.

Daddy wasn't too gracious as he climbed off his ladder, but between the two of us, we managed to corner them. Once the lead rope was in our hand, the ponies calmly followed us back to the stalls where I tied them to be groomed. Daddy went back up the ladder and the kids went back to the water ball.

I finished grooming Pip and was halfway through Gimli when I noticed the cows were at the fence "talking". Something I didn't know before borrowing cows was that they are actually fairly quiet. They pretty much only moo when something unusual is happening (unlike the neighbor's rooster and donkey who crow and bray at all hours of the day and night!).

It took a minute for me to find the source of their discomfort. Bucky was not inside the fence.

"Um. Daddy. We have a problem. One of the bulls are loose," I shouted in his general direction.

"Come on!" wafted loudly to me from somewhere behind the trees.

"It wasn't my fault! Both gates are shut and bolted!"

And they were.

But there is one section of the pasture by the shop that does not have fencing. Horses and cows are naturally supposed to be afraid of drops (so I'm told) and there is a 2 foot drop onto cement pad behind some tall shelving in that corner. The drop stopped Pip, but not Gimli. He escaped from there on Monday. So Daddy and I found some fencing for the two tallest shelves and piled some semi-truck tires and barrels in the openings of the shorter shelves for a temporary fix, effectively stopping Gimli's escapades.

But not Bucky's.

Sure enough, I looked over and one of the 200 pound tires was lying on the pad.

Now what.

Well, when Gimli is throwing a toddler fit and refuses to come, I grab a bunch of grain, shake it in a cup, and he follows me anywhere. So I tried this with Bucky. The shaking did nothing, so I put some in my hand and let him lick it off.

I could see him thinking about it: 'Hmmm... good, but not as good as these baby cottonwood trees over here. I don't know why the lady person panics everytime I go near one, but boy they taste good.'

"Honey, you need to call Ron--the grain isn't working and he's eating the trees."

Well, Ron was out of town and couldn't help us wrangle up his bull. Daddy was going to try lassoing him--he learned how from his brief interest in roping--but Ron said that wouldn't work. We just have to coral him.

I tried petting him--after all, we were buddies. Didn't he remember cornering me this morning? Nope. Oh, he was willing to allow the scratches, but not enough to leave his own personal grazing land.

Daddy tried talking to him. "Ron said he might come if you call him by name. 'Come here Number 109!'"

No movement. I think he prefers Bucky.

So that left chasing him into the gate. You know...the bull who had no problem pushing over a 200 pound tire and who bucks when cornered...go corner him. I will admit to being intimidated, which frustrated Daddy a bit--I was supposed to act as a human barrier. And then I was in charge of moving the other cows away from the gate to avoid a stampede into our backyard--you know, the other dozen or so 800 pound animals mooing by the fence--move them.

Eventually we got Bucky back into the pasture after wrangling him into the small pre-pasture area, he really had no place to go.

Then I fed and watered the ponies, fed and watered the chicks, fed and watered the cats, and finally, fed and watered my family...at 7:30 at night. After giving the kids a bath and putting them to bed, I still had to pack, shower and find a hotel. I finally finished everything around 10:30 pm and went to bed.

We left Thursday morning at 3 am for a long day of fun in the sun...

But that's another story.

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