I Love it Here...

Caption Contest!

Leave your suggestion for the caption in the comments!

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I just went outside to close up the chicken coop. I've been letting them out in the late afternoon, once their egg laying is done, so they can peck at the fresh grass and bugs. They love turn out time! As the sun sets, they all head back for the coop where they settle in on their roost until morning.

It's just after 9 pm here; the sky is clear and I can count stars forever. It's dark, but I hear Quiet Storm's hoof beats as she gallops across the pasture towards me. The Screamer grunts contentedly from her pen. A couple of the ewes baa from the lower pasture.

I can hear the frogs singing happily from across the valley down in the cow pond. Not nearly so loud and obnoxious as they were during breeding season, they've settled into a sweet lullaby, accompanied by the trickle of Carpenter Creek just beyond the trees. And the air? The air is so fresh, so crisp and clean. Not at all like city air. Out here, you can breath!

I love it here. I can muck manure every day in exchange for nights like this. If City Boy moved our bed outside right now, I'd happily snuggle up with him under the stars...that is, if it weren't for those danged mosquitos! Dang, where did those things come from?! Eeks! They're biting me! Quick! Back to the safety of the house!

Never mind, City Boy. We're sleeping inside.

Sheepish

It's been a busy couple of days. Yesterday I had to run get some hay from Brigget. She went up into the loft and found this rather odd sort of thing. It was hard, roundish and split in half. Looked like the inside of a honey comb. I'd seen it up there last week, but had left it behind as it was kinda...I dunno...creepy.

Anyway, there sat Brigget up there in the doorway showing me this thing, pointing out that she thought there were spider legs coming out of it. And if anything is creepy beyond all creepiness, it's spiders. Their legs coming out of some sort of unknown object just makes them all the more creepy. She asked if I'd like it, no doubt thinking I'd take pictures for the blog.

"No, thank you," was my reply. Somethings are just too creepy even for me, I told her. She gave me a puzzled look. "You brought home the head of a dead horse in your trunk, and you don't think that's just a little bit creepy?" Okay, she had me there.

Anyway, most of Brigget's ewes have lambed now. Take a look at these adorable Icelandic babies!

Three weeks old, and look at those horn buds!

These are Sunday's babies; remember the caption contest with the kissing ewe and lamb?

Astrid lambed last week; her boy has lovely silver flecks, and check out those horns already!

Lovely spotted ram lamb. His mamma has a name I can barely pronounce, let alone spell. It means Pancake, so that's what I call her.

This morning I got up and was amazed at how many people had already visited this blog. Blown away, really. I get all sucked up by the statistics and comments. It's like my little cyberspace living room, and you all are my visitors throughout the day. And it amazes me how many of you pop in to see my decorating!

So here I sat, utterly enthralled, when I ought to have looked out the window. Why? Licorice was giving birth! By the time I finally yawned, stretched, and dawned my rubber boots, she'd licked the boy clean and he'd had his first visit to the milk bar. Like last year's lamb, and the lambs before that, he's a curly little black baby. His papa was an icelandic, and I'm hoping someone who'd like a pet wether will come along. He's bound to have a beautiful fleece with his genetics.

Still wet, and with a dangly umbelical cord.

Of course, I can't let you go without an updated pic of Ohren and Baron!

Ohren's ears are still just a little tippy!

Don't forget, tomorrow is Winsday and there'll be a new contest!

Think, think, think

Drive By Shooting from Oregon. Loved the gold colors!

Okay. Home from vacation, finished with the youth fair. Not sure I'm fully recovered, but I'm forcing myself to put on my thinking cap and dole out some thinking awards.

First off, though, I want to thank Dorothy (no, that's Kahshe Cottager), RoseMary and Sue for dumping...er, graciously thinking of me and giving me that lovely award! No, really, I'm just joking about the dumping part. I really do appreciate that you thought of me. I was just so overwhelmed by getting two in one day, the a third the next...and I knew I'd have to start thinking. Thinking scares me. But...thinking is what I've done. And here are the first five Thinking Blogger's I'm graciously handing this award to!

Granny Miller: Granny Miller always makes me think when I visit her blog. Her thoughts can be very thought provoking, she writes poetically, and today she's showing everyone how to make butter. The butter sealed the thinking award deal, as she got me thinking I needed a cream separator to make butter with.

Dixie: Dixie popped on over here after seeing a comment I'd left for Slick. I don't recall how I found Slick, but I'm glad Dixie found me! Dixie, without knowing it, I suspect, has reminded me of God's incredible grace. Dixie also reminds me that we're all a bunch of jagged, sharp rocks thrown into tumblers to get smooth. Currently, she's in a tiny tumbler with one particularly sharp rock. Honey, I feel for you, I really do! You're in my prayers and I know you'll come through, all nice and polished and pretty!

Dan: Dan has a Blah-Blah-Blog. Dan makes me laugh. Not booger laughs, but he's so danged clever! Loved his video of doing taxes. But what Dan makes me think of most is cemeteries. And why is that? Well, Dan posted to my cemetery blog before he posted to anything else around here, saying he also enjoyed them and had photos of them. I cannot for the life of me find those photos of Dan's. I keep hunting through his photo albums, but so far no cemeteries. But hey, half the fun of cemeteries is in the search, right?

Vicki: The first time I visited Vicki's blog, I was taken~no, swallowed~by the photo in her header. A fence with a bit of horsey hair stuck on it. Yes, it swallowed me whole. I'm sure City Boy would barely have noticed it, but you know, right then and there I was certain Vicki was destined to be a friend. I hadn't even read a single word she'd said! Headers are very telling. Vicki has a new header now, and I think it's booger worthy. I swear I snorted boogers when I came home from vacation and read her new header.

Jocelyn: This is a funny lady. She should have won Diesel's recent caption contest. She's already got a thinking blogger award, but I need to pass the buck here, and Jocelyn, you're getting it. But you so deserve it. Why? Because you've made me think that perhaps the Booger Award ought to merge with the Thinking Award, and we'd have a Thinking Booger Award. Sounds like a match made in...um...well... Sorry, can't think of where it's made. I'm all thunk out.

And that, dearies, is it for my first round of Thinkers. Five down, ten to go. But not today. And not tomorrow, either. Because we've got funner stuffs to do, right? Right. Like manipulate photos so they appear different than they really are.

Do ghosts have shadows?

I think you could easily say I've become a little obsessed with this horse! I think I may need him just for the photographic opportunities alone!

Meanwhile...

Back on the Farm...

I like chickens. They're fun to watch. They hunt and peck for bugs in the dirt, and scratch about in my garden creating a nice growing environment. They get down right silly about taking dust baths. But mostly I like them because they make me feel smart. Feeling smarter than a chicken may not be enough for some folks, but I'm quite content with it. While I like baths, I prefer mine in water with bubbles. And while an occasional bug may tickle my fancy, I much prefer owl barf, don't you?

River Glen Chickens

Early on in my blog, I posted about my chickens. They're not an official breed, but come from a closed flock that a friend has. She started with a few bantams, an Aracauna (they type that lays the blue eggs) and a Phoenix (long tailed.) She now has an eclectic little flock of small chickens in various colors. The 'blue', which really range from a smoke to black, tend to lay blue eggs. I took on some of her chickens last fall in hopes of further developing the blue chickens who lay blue eggs.

I must admit to not being a very diligent breeder. If I were, I'd have three or four pens of chickens, and I'd be rotating my two blue roos among my blue hens and tracking what the offspring looked like and what they layed. Instead, I've got all my chickens together, blue and pied, hens and roosters. A week before leaving on vacation, I collected all the blue eggs and placed them in the incubator. Since I've not got an automatic turner, the hatch rate will likely be low. But who knows? They're due to hatch on the 28th of this month.

Styrofoam incubator (without an automatic turner, sniff, whine.)

I've had a couple of inquiries regarding shipping hatching eggs or chicks. I hesitate to ship eggs, as I've had poor luck with purchasing eggs from other people and would hate to have that happen to one of you. I am, however, looking into shipping chicks. So if you're interested in raising some River Glen Blues, just let me know!

Upon returning from vacation I had an email from Margery saying another one of her ewes had lambed. This time it was a ram and a ewe. Part of our breeding contract was that I'd get a ewe lamb from her, and now I've got three to choose from. She's got one more ewe that may lamb this summer, but Darling and I already know which lamb we'd like. She looks like a little cow! Isn't she just the most adorable thing?

Baa Moo Ewe?

As for Darling's new critter...well...

This weekend was the youth fair, an event put on here in Whatcom County each spring. It's a short, sweet, two day event with tons of classes that the kids can choose from. They pretty much get submerged with tons of information regarding a project; anything from livestock (Darling did sheep her first couple of years) to clowning to chess. This year Darling took photography and stole my camera for the weekend. I felt naked!

The youth fair also has a live auction, and at that auction are things like pies (which sell for $100 each) and pigs. Can you guess which one we came home with? I swear, this is the world's ugliest pig! And you know the term 'squeal like a pig'? I can assure you that unless you've picked up a squealing pig, you have no clue what it means. None what so ever. I had pigs growing up, and until I picked up this pig to carry it out to the truck, I had no clue what a squealing pig sounded like.

This pig, which shall remain nameless (because we haven't come up with a good one yet), could be heard three counties away. I know, because we got calls about a potential murder at the fair grounds. People were calling 911 in Canada. You'd have thought I was skinning her alive for all the noise she made. Twelve hours later, and I'm only just now getting my hearing back.

One ugly pig. No spider is going to help this girl out!

Once home, it was time to unload The Screamer. City Boy hadn't been there when Darling and I picked her up the first time. Darling was hiding, all huddled with fingers in her ears, on the other side of the pick up. She was still suffering from Squeal Shock, which is similar to shell shock, only worse. CB couldn't figure out what her problem was. He also didn't know why I was so reluctant to climb into the back of the truck after The Screamer. He soon found out. I nudged the pig to get her to move. She grunted and clung to the bed of the truck. I pushed, I prodded, and finally she moved enough for me to get my hand under her belly. And that 's when it began all over again...

The volunteer fire department showed up about five minutes later, wondering if everyone was okay. Evidently a kind neighbor had called in, saying they were certain there was something wrong. A few minutes after that, the sheriff was there, wondering about our child who was now crouched down, shaking and sucking her thumb. "Pig...pig...pig..." was all that would come out of Darling's mouth. I had ringing in my ears, as the screaming from inside the truck canopy had echoed back and forth. City Boy had a dazed look on his face. Never in all his years had he experienced anything like The Screamer. Thankfully, the sheriff's officer had raised pigs while in FFA and it didn't take him long to figure out what the neighbor had heard. He smiled and gave a wave. I think he said something as his lips were moving, but I still couldn't hear anything.

Honestly? Even if a spider does write Some Pig in a nearby web, I'm going to be happy to eat The Screamer!

All the animals gathered to see what the commotion was about, as The Screamer goes straight to work tilling up the garden.