The answers lie inside you

Ancient Sanskrit scripture repeatedly teaches me lessons that are universal, yet so very basic. They remind me of things I've learned, and nudge me to refocus on them. Here are some of my favorite reminders for myself in 2020:

You will receive a body.

This one hits home in a new way this year. The body I have received is now in need of some repairing and upgrading. 2019 has taught me to cherish the body I've been given. Its flaws, idiosyncrasies, strength, resilience and ability to heal and repair itself. It breaks down, and then builds itself back up. Even though during breakdown periods, I must stop doing the things I love to do, I am now able to prepare myself mentally for the down-time that is often associated with the repair and healing phases. Likely, this wisdom has come with age, as well as listening to the teachings from books, scriptures, podcasts, among other sources. If I could tell my 23 year old self something, it would be to appreciate the little things your body can do, the hard things your body can do, and respect and treat it like a temple.


There are no mistakes, only lessons

There should have been a lesson/class on this in high school, or at least in college. Mistakes are power. They allow me to retry, do things differently, brainstorm new things/ideas, and put myself out there (again) when fear knocks on my door and tells me otherwise. Granted, mistakes give my Ego the opportunity to beat me up, bring me down, instill more fear and often times top it all off with a giant serving of shame. Shame is hard to speak, but I found I must speak it, to dissolve it. Age (and many mistakes later) has brought me the understanding to know my mistakes are the gateway to learning. When I focus on the learning side of it, then the mistake was merely a tool to take me to the next place I'm needing to go. It's like a detour sign that takes me through the mountains, cold and rain storms to bring me to a place of peace and understanding, coupled with the ability to try again. The mistakes never stop in life, and the lessons just keep coming over and over. With my ultra running, I see it as a Win or Learn. I never lose, I just keep learning how to navigate things in a different, and hopefully, better way. Building blocks that allow me to keep moving forward in a productive manner. The other scripture that goes with this one? A lesson will be repeated until it is learned. Is that not the truest words ever spoken?

Others are merely mirrors of you

Okay, so some days, I play a game at work that helps me in my job. I'm a Triage RN at a medical office, and patients do not call the office because they want to say Hi. They call because they are sick, still sick, feel bad, have an emergency, mad, frustrated and a thousand other emotions that are likely related to an illness or disease process. They are typically not their best self when they call. And I answer their call, to hear their woes and become their gateway to where they need.....the doctor (or medical advise and comforting). So on the hard days I have, the days I'm not feeling my best, the days my patience is wore and jagged, I find I play a 'game' which I call "Just Like Me". I smile and answer the call and immediately think that this person is just like me. And really, they are in many ways. I can hear their pain and vulnerability. They are just like me. We are mirrors of one another, and I have the privilege of assisting them in their time of need. This opens my mind to compassion, caring and desire on those days when it does not come naturally. Luckily, I don't find that I play this game regularly, as I'm generally able to feel the connection with the patients on a regular basis and provide the natural good and true emotions needed. But on those certain days, I need this friendly reminder that yes, others are merely mirrors of ourselves. Mirrors of you and me. When I'm in line at a store, all those around me are mirrors. Driving on the road, eating at a restaurant and anywhere I may be, the others around me are mirrors. I learn from them, I try to pass kindness onto them, and I recognize they too, have a special and unknown story underneath the surface.

Your answers lie inside you

This is so freaking deep, that there's multitudes of books about this. For me though, it's a scripture that has become a mantra. Look inside, Grasshopper. Dig deep, Sweet Pea. Go inward and search for the answer, Cyndi. Think and think some more. What is your intuition telling you. Are you getting it confused with fear? Is other emotions standing in the way of finding the answer inside you? Is society pushing you to feel a certain way? Can you restrain from societal ways and find what you need inside yourself? Yes, I've come a long, long way, baby. And most times I find these answers inside me while on a moving mediation. Cleaning the barn quietly, or on a country road methodically running, or even simply closing my eyes and listening to myself breathe, am I able to listen to what's really inside. That's where it's all at. That's where I find who I really am in an authentic fashion. The real me, with answers inside, waiting for me to find them. #workinprogress


You will forget all this

You can remember it whenever you want. Amen. Life has a tendency to pull me away from its true meaning. Moving through all the chapters of life, I find that life's meaning can seem to change page to page. It's a story that I get to unfold, read and write every day. As I age, I'm able to hold a better focus on what's important. I certainly don't always get it right. Life tries to pull me, and I find myself better equipped to handle the pressures it brings. The wisdom, which is likely derived from all those life lessons already learned seem to be easily forgotten at times. I often need to learn some again, or try to remember them in vulnerable moments. Although I may no longer have "same day delivery" with all the information my brain holds, life is there to help me remember when I need it the most. It all seems to boil down to change, and how I manage that aspect of life. There's no better representation in my own life of that than here on the farm, of constant learning and growth. Around here, change is the only constant - and in my life in general, actually.


So how did all the changes on the farm shake out

Wonderful! Let's talk about it.



Chia, and her kids Petunia and Dotty are living their goat life. Chia is by far one of the best farm animal moms we've had. Her dedication to them is inspiring. These 3 sweet goats will be the only goat population for now. We have reached goat nirvana with 3. I think about Nona and Twizzler often. Their rambunctiousness is now being well served in a large herd on a lot of acreage.




I'll call this quadruplet grouping the quietest sheep herd ever.
From l to r: Belle, Lulu, Grace and Licorice
Their docile nature allows visitors the opportunity to pet and love on them. Belle and Grace were (once) bottle babies, so they are extra friendly to people in general. They graze the pasture, and they also welcome guests with open hooves. The fact that they will run to greet you is reminiscent of a friendly dog. Their kind Baa's and their calm souls make us want lambs just like them.
And since David has been wanting baby lambs for most of 2019, we are going to go pick up a ram for these ewes on this coming Saturday. Round 2 of lambing is about to start. 2020 will most likely bring more of these amazing sheep to the pasture. That's the plan, at least. Sam #2, we are coming for you.




Our (barn) cat population is one that we adore. We try and stay steady number-wise with them, but strays do appear here and there. This stray, Blackie, came to us with a wound on his head that made you NOT want to touch him, whatsoever (not that he would let anyone near him anyway, as he appeared feral upon his unexpected arrival). As my prior blogs noted, we did catch him and got him to the vet for proper care. After a recovery period, we are happy to say his wound is completely healed, with his hair all grown back now on his forehead. He's now super friendly, happy, beautiful and is at home in the Tack Room of the barn. Love him - and all the great cats we have out here.





Let's talk chickens. These are only some of my Experimental Chicken Farm girlz. I'm holding strong at 21 of them, along with my regular flock still at 13. So, 34 chickens. They are growing up, and I'm waiting to see when they will start laying eggs. They need to be more around 5-6 months old, so we still have a little more time to wait while they continue to mature. They roost/sleep in the Belle Tower at night, but during the day, they come up to the house/barn area and mingle with the flock in the barn area. Everyone is getting along well, with no rooster noises yet. All hens thus far. The joy I receive from seeing these 34 chickens free ranging in the yard is a dream come true, and one that I never knew I had. I mean, I really am a chicken lady. My love for them is ridiculous and unexplainable. They just make me so happy.





After I lost Snow White and Coco (2 of my silkies), I went searching on CraigsList for silkies. I found a lady in Denison who was selling her flock of 8 silkies. She had several roosters and hens and was raising and selling them prior, but life changes had forced them to sell their silkies, and focus on other areas of their life. Enter me in this picture. Yes, please, I'll take your 8 silkies - roosters and all. And upon a discussion with the Sheriff, we decided to move forward with allowing roosters on the farm, in a separate contained fenced area. For their safety - and for the review of how this is all going to go down. Surprisingly, the silkies are doing well. This bantam breed is a docile chicken, and the roosters are small, too. So lets give it a try. We already have portable fencing, an (extra) small coop not being used, and feeders. We shall put all of that to good use. Here's a closer look at some of them:





Here's a couple of the silkie hens, Chompchi, Dorothy and Dorothy. There's one more Dorothy around, too. I prefer to call them the 3 Dot's. Chompchi is the grey little one there, who looks a lot like the rooster, Post.





This is Post (Malone). He's head rooster, and a little larger than the others. He does crow in the morning, although since they are a smaller breed, it's not a super loud type of crowing. I find it endearing.





And then, there's Frank (aka Nugget). He's a white silkie rooster who has been previously picked on by the others. He's lost all his feathers on his back, and is relegated to low chicken on the chicken totem pole. I decided to keep him in a separate fenced area, next to his friends, but now they are unable to pick on him anymore. We are going to allow him time to heal. He's shown here with his "friends", but has since been placed next door to them, with his own little coop. I've not heard him crow. I've only heard Post crowing, out of the 3 roosters in this group.


Doing the chicken math, this is 13 + 21 + 8 = Just enough.


In summary, the changes have all been productive and good. While we miss those who left us, we are left with a certain amount of peace. An important factor in all of this is rightsizing. David and I must be able to care for everyone, the property (and ourselves) in a proper way. Having a good mix and the "right" number of animals is key. Although not pictured today, the donkeys and mini horses are doing very well. We are back to a balance that is more appropriate for what we can manage well. Lesson learned. Hopefully, I'll remember that lesson. We ebb up, and flow back down here on Lovebird Ln.





Here's wishing you all Happy Holidays, and the continued opportunity to grow and prosper in 2020,

Cyndi


"I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning to sail my ship" - Louisa May Alcott

Part II Yep, Resizing

Have you herd

It happened, yep it sure did. Davis and Dixie are now guarding on another sheep/goat ranch - and  luckily, they don't have chickens. Pawfect! We had two men from a local sheep and goat operation come and take those sweet doggies to their new pasture(s). They loaded up in the truck like they knew where they were going. One thing I know for sure, is they will be etched in my memory bank forever. Those dogs can guard. I'm happy for them, as these types of dogs just want to work. And from what I understand, there's a lot of sheep and goats to guard where they are headed.


You goat to be kidding

For real. These same men who have this ranch wanted all our sheep and goats. Uh, no. David made a deal with them though. He sold them 2 of the goats (Nona and Twizzler) and 2 sheep (Eve and Clara). This man (he has a name, and it's Jason) is looking to breed them all (except Twizzler, of course). Funny, because these 4 are the 4 who were the most vocal, the most pushy, and the most......well.....in charge. They are the most adapt to being independent and what I like to call, normal farm animals. They will do well, and give lots of babies. I miss them, but not the loud screams, I mean baa's that they were well known for.


Ewe mean this really happened

It did. And now, it's so quiet and calm, I'm not quite sure what to make of this. Farm population changes seem to be a thing. If you're not sure about it, check CraigsList (I use Texoma CraigsList). It's like a Farm Swap Meet 24/7. Buying, selling and trading. And if you put animals out there, there's people who show up at your doorstep. And when they come to "look" at one type of animal, they ask about the others. It's a real thang and keeps things fresh, I suppose.


Kale Yeah, I know

It's a business for people. It's fun for me, but many folks are serious farmers. I have much respect for them and what they do. My little hobby farm has contributed to others business, and I'm happy to watch and learn what other people are doing. I find it fascinating and have a lot to learn if making money is involved with what I have going on.


But aren't you trying

My experimental chicken farm of 21 young girlz is still thriving. Ever since I moved the flock closer to the house so they can have guard dog protection (who don't eat them), all the hens are alive and I count them every few nights to make sure I have all 21 there. And, I have the original flock (now at 13) free ranging and proving daily bug extermination duties. Not many of them are laying anymore, because they stop laying eggs around 3 years old. Then, they are either culled, or in our case, kept around to keep the bug population under control around the house and barn.


Hope she's not a he

No, thank goodness. All 21 of those chickens are cock-a-doodle-doo free. All bada$$ mother cluckers (roosters) will likely be culled by the Sheriff. Thus far, they are all growing, and are actually mixing a bit with the other flock. Mostly, they stay with their own people. I've come to realize that I've got three breeds in this 21 mix:  Orpingtons, Rhode Island Reds and Cinnamon Queens. Gorgeous. All of them. I've got to wait until their about 5-6 months before I'll find any eggs. That's okay, I can wait. Then we'll see where that takes us. Not the best business plan, but I prefer to take it day by day.


Hay Girl

The mini horses have adjusted well to their new home with us, and I adore them. Dora is a little reserved, and Diego has blossomed as super friendly, dog-like and not a shy bone in his body. I know, I'm not supposed to treat them like I treat the dogs, but it's hard because of their size. They are horses, and I hear miniature horses can become unruly if treated otherwise. They love long walks in the pasture, sunning together, and frolicking. They are pasture jewelry, for sure and just downright beautiful animals. And surprisingly quiet.


Ewe's in Charge

Good question. Who is in charge regarding the (remaining) ewes? Grace? maybe. Belle? maybe in a quiet way. Lulu? too shy. Licorice? surprisingly, no. The head ewe is still shaking out right now. The four ewes mosey around the pasture together and are always grazing as a herd. Interestingly enough, they don't graze with the goats. They have this natural separation thing going on. I don't think they are racist, bias or discriminatory. They just like being with their own peeps.


The one that goat away

Actually two. That leaves us with Chia and her little kids, Petunia and Dotty. They goat it going on. Those two kids are so farm cute, that they can get away with anything - and boy howdy do they ever try. They are cute even when they are causing a ruckus. Slipping through small fencing areas to eat the chicken food and escaping to the neighboring pasture to graze on yummier things. Now I know how unruly children are perceived by their parents. Oh look, Little Johnny is head butting the other children. Isn't that so cute?! Fast forward to Big Johnny in prison with that same mom visiting her son in prison and proclaiming his innocence. That took a bad turn, but you get the idea. From the goat-go, those two little kids of Chia's could do no wrong. Their little maa's tickle my heart strings. That and their pink precious noses.


Hee Haw

Did you used to watch that show on TV? You know, back in the 70's. The only thing better than Hee Haw was Soul Train. I could watch that all day. I'd day dream I was there dancing, too. The girl up on the stage, which meant you were a good dancer, and then when everyone made two lines and people danced down between them....one at a time....doing their jazzy, special dance moves. Memories.
Wait, what I meant to say was how Mama and Papa Donkey are doing. Yes, they are still loud and proud, esp Papa with his Hee Haw's that can be herd a mile away, I'm sure. He takes a really deep breath in, and just lets it all out. We've moved them to the back pasture since the change in population. We had a ton of new dirt transported back there from the digging of the pond. The donkeys love it - and we love having them there again. Sitting on the back deck, with their big ole eyes watching you, only a few feet away. They want treats and have such a sweet tooth I'm afraid they may get diabetes. They are full of personality and that's just one of the many things I love about them.


Did you say pond

Indeed I did, and they have just about finished it. "They" is a man named Chuck and his side kick, Boyce. I found them on CraigsList. He's a pond maker. He has lots of big machines and a dump truck to boot. He's waved his magic pond all over our place, and finished the expansion. It's about double the size now, and we won't really know how it's going to look until quite a few rains. The good news is, it will be completed early this week. Now that's worth getting excited about when I hear "rain is coming". I used to cringe, as it was all a muddy mess. Okay, it's still a muddy mess slightly transformed into pond material. They did a good job, and we so appreciate it. They used the dirt they dug to fill in low spots all around the property and man, just that in itself was worth it all. When it's picture worthy, I'll place it in the blog. For now, it's a bit rough looking and will need a few good rains to make it look more like a pond and less like a muddy mess. Gonna need some time, my friends.


As fur as the eye can see

It's hard to know how things are going to go, when decisions are made to sell or buy farm animals. This change has made one of the greatest differences in the dynamics here. It's definitely more quiet, easier to feed everyone, and the ability to move the animals to different pastures for pasture management is in full view now. This change has given us more flexibility that will be valuable over time. So there were tears shed, but that probably won't ever change. My little tender heart is not that of a real farmer. Therefore, this hobby farm on Lovebird Lane will stay just like that. It's our hobby - and I love it. Everything here is a labor of love.


Getting piggy with it,

Cyndi

Part I: Minimizing Risk vs Resizing

After the chicken loss on 355, and therefore, the movement of the experimental chicken farm up closer to the house in the Belle Tower, we had another recent event happen. This time, it was with our own animals. A couple of weeks ago, and I don't remember the exact day, I came home from work as usual. Even though I sometimes drive up to the house and animals are not where they "should be", on this particular day, it was Dixie and Davis, with all the goats and sheep who had escaped from the back pasture to enjoy the day in the front yard of the house along with access to the barn. The barn stores the feed, alfalfa, the chickens plus more. It was a hay day for them all. My heart sank. How long had they been out? As I knew Dixie and Davis have killed our chickens previously, and I began praying in my head that it didn't happen again.
It's a whole circus act trying to get them all back to their own pasture. Some of the goats and sheep are in the barn, the dogs are running wildly around and they all know what I'm there to do: Move them back to their own area. But this is all so interesting, fun and exciting, they tell me! New smells, food and fun. The goats and sheep have literally eaten every leaf off the bushes alongside the house. I'm not sure those bushes will survive. The barn looks like a bomb went off in it. Bins toppled over, poop everywhere, the hay stocked so nicely is now scattered about. The clean up will take hours.
And indeed, it did take time to get the goats, sheep along with Dixie and Davis back to their place in the back pasture. The gate must have come unlock, even though I can't say how it happened. It happened, and human error is part of life. The goats and sheep are not my focus, as much as what did Dixie and Davis do with the chickens free ranging about?
It wasn't until after I got everyone back in their place did I go back and start counting the chickens. I have 15 that live in the barn, and 21 that now live in the Belle Tower. It's the 15 that live in the barn and free range around it that I'm concerned about. By now, it's dark, as it gets dark by around 5:30 pm. The chickens are settling in to their roosting places in the barn, and I start counting. 1, 2, 3, up to 12. I go through Roll Call in my head and realize that all three of my silkies are missing. I'm so upset with Davis and Dixie. Those little silkies cannot fly, and with their short tiny legs cannot run fast. The more I look around, the more I realize what has happened. It's like a crime scene. I see blood, I see parts of my sweet chicken, and start crying. I see where they got one for sure. As I keep investigating, I cannot find the other two silkies. Frantically, I get a flashlight and start roaming the property for signs of the other two. Nothing. Where are they? Are they alive? After exhausting my search for them, and with all the animals back in their proper places, I head inside. I've looked around everywhere, multiple times. Nothing. Now I'm still crying, as my sweet Snow White has been killed by my very own dogs. She's just a chicken. But she's my chicken.
Fast forward to a restless night, and eagerness for the sun to rise. I head to the barn to see if Coco and Frizzle are anywhere to be found - dead or alive. Surprisingly, Frizzle is up and walking around with the other. Still no sign of Coco. I have one silkie left from the rampage of the guard pups. Coco has never been found.
Dixie and Davis are wonderful guard pups to the goats and sheep. Wonderfully awesome, matter of fact. But they are chicken eaters. I realize we will never be devoid of this predicament, and gates opening and closing are a way of life here on the farm. They are a risk. A huge risk to other animals lives - chicken lives matter. What to do about this? It's not like we didn't know, as that's why they've always been stationed in farther away pastures with larger animals. They are the reason we bought the goats. But how long can we keep that up, with the inability to incorporate them into the culture we have? Buying goats for Dixie and Davis to guard was perfect to finalize their guard training. And guard dogs extraordinaire they are! But they cannot be trusted. The risk is too great. I'm not able to keep them contained on a consistent basis, I'm just not able to. How will they be able to be our replacement in a few years when Levi and Whisper retire from guarding? They won't, is my sad answer.
Fast forward again to sitting in front of the computer on CraigsList. An Ad goes up, showcasing the guard dogs awesomeness and guarding skills - with a Warning : chicken eaters. This is important, as I can't with a clear conscience have them go to another farm/ranch and continue to eat chickens (someone else's chickens). It must be known ahead of time. Fast forward some more, and I've got texts from other people in the area with sheep and goats who want Dixie and Davis for their guarding purpose. Perfect, and the process begins. I will be sharing them, not charging for them. They need a farm/ranch for them to go "work". It's what they do best. And in the pictures I had posted of the guard pups (who are 1 year old now), are the goats. People want the goats, too. And they ask about sheep. Now all of a sudden, we are evaluating who will really leave the farm.
Today is the day. People are coming for Dixie and Davis and there will be crying involved. Farmers cry, as with love on a farm - there is always loss. This loss is different that other losses. It's a disappointment unlike the other losses. Goats and sheep will likely also be negotiated, and it's really an unknown of who will stay and who will go. Do all the goats leave now? Do we downsize our sheep population, too, while we're at it? Right sizing and resizing is about to happen. It's part of the ebb and flow in the universe. Creating, recreating and movement after stability and instability is swirling. What to do - what not to do. Where is the book that tells me what to do? I realize, I'm writing that book right now. Do what it is you need to do, to protect all animals on the farm. And give those leaving an opportunity to thrive and be happy as well. The crying has started early today.

Part II to this story will be written later on. Not likely today, as I'll need some time to process it all. I'll need to draw on my memory bank of Bright Sides and What's Next moments. I'll need to reflect on the fun and the experiences from which I've learned in this chapter of life. Turns out, As The World Turns On The Farm is a thing on Craigslist. The coming and goings of farm animals. It's a real thing.

Before I close, I'd like to shed a little sunshine. I have located a man who thinks he can fix our pond. The prior contractors had wrecked our pond more than we realized, and we are in dire need to having it corrected. He appears to be our blessing in this moment. Coming in to save the day. Although we've thought that twice before. So, that will be a question mark answered in the next couple of weeks, I imagine. The Pond Saga continues, just in a new direction. Again. Will this be the final time? Time will tell us that soon.

Hope everyone's holiday was delightful,

Cyndi

What The Cluck

Check, lesson learned.

As the chickens on the ECF (Experimental Chicken Farm) were growing and having the freedom to free range, that's when it hit. Only about a week after true freedom was given, and the chickens were free ranging nicely down on 355, it happened.

It all started the day David went out of town for a work conference, I had moseyed my way down to 355 to feed. That's when I saw her. One of the chickens lying there, having been attacked by (likely) a raccoon or skunk. Why, you ask? Because only her head was gone, and according to the website Backyard Chickens, that's what those predators do. Of course, I was shocked and so very sad about this. I felt responsible and felt the lump in my throat rise with tears to follow. It was then and there, that something was going to have to change. My ECF was not going to be safe on 355 after all. Those predators will likely come back, and they typically do until the whole flock is gone. So that was Wed that I made that gruesome discover. Knowing it would take a chunk of time to get them moved, with the fencing, coop, etc, I was determined to get them moved as soon as I could manage it. But when?

Unfortunately, I lost another hen Thursday, and decided to make a change to the fencing on 355, to confine them, until I could get them moved up by the house, so the guard dogs could guard them, instead of the donkeys. Sadly, it starts this way, these killings. A predator is coming daily for their meal. One per day, and now I need to figure this out soon, like now. So, until I could get them moved up by the house under the protection of the guard dogs, I secured the chickens fencing around them again, and got it all buttoned up. No more free ranging for them - as that's when the killings occurred. So I'd lock then down until I could get them moved. I needed to mull it over about how to get them moved - on my own.



After the second hen was killed, it was obvious she was attacked differently than the first because she was almost all gone. I turned to the donkeys and asked them how they could let a predator stay so long on the property, without chasing it off. The donkeys said it was because it's cold and wet, and they did not want to leave their shelter. Fine, then. I'm taking the responsibility away from you two, Mama and Papa donkey. I'm very disappointed in you both. It's vividly clear that the donkeys are not going to be able to protect the chickens like I had originally thought.

Okay, now I'm two chickens down. Granted they are all secured by fencing again, and it's Friday. I'm heading into work, and the chickens on the ECF would not be free ranging anytime soon. I will make my mental preparations for Friday evening to get them moved. So all day at work Friday, I felt like a killer. I had let this happen, and now I need to fix it. It's all on me, and I'll have to make the move by myself. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Friday's work day ended. I had thought about it all day, and made my mental plan. But I would need to wait until dusk/night fall to start moving the chickens. Why you ask? When chickens go to roost at night, they go into a trance, if you will. They are docile, and in a trance-like state that makes them easy to grab. Unlike trying to chase down 20-something chickens in a pen, traumatizing them. So as the sun went to bed, so did the chickens. The moon shone its night light, and I made my way to 355, almost tiptoeing every step to not wake the chickens. I could hear them in their coop, restless and making their little zoom beanie noises. They knew things were different, with new sounds around them. I'd need to gather 4 pieces of the portable fencing, to place around their next destination: The Belle Tower. But before I do that, I would create a smaller area for them right now, in case they did try to leave the coop, they would not escape far. After I quietly secured their smaller area around their coop, and laid out three boxes for their transport, I then quietly detached the fasteners from the fence, loaded it all onto the back of my truck (via the help of my back - and physics). The headlight I wore around my head was on low beam, and along with the moon watching, the fencing was loaded onto my truck. Success, as Phase I was completed, and onto Phase II: I'll set up the fencing around the Belle Tower - their new coop. I drive it all back to the house, and into the pasture, over to The Belle Tower.




The Belle Tower was once a children's play structure we bought used off CraigsList. We turned it into shelter facility for our only sheep at the time, bottle-baby Belle. She would walk up the ramp to the "second" floor area and look at the window of the little room there. She's too big to do that anymore, but we still call it the Belle Tower, and it's about to be transformed into a chicken coop. I never saw that coming. (It has since been painted and remodeled to match the house and other buildings on the property)

I digress. Using the lights of my truck, I unload this fencing off the truck (my back and physics again), and connect it all together around The Belle Tower, their soon-to-be new coop. I placed shavings in there, and it was ready for the chickens arrival. Now Phase III, the most critical of all: transport of the chickens. I drive back down to 355, and once again, quietly make my way into their now-small fenced area. These chickens have no idea that their about to move homes, but here we go. It's like going to bed in your warm-and-comfy bed in your own home, and awaken in someone else's house.

I count it down in my head, 3, 2, 1 and GO! I quickly open the chicken coop, and frantically start taking a chicken one at a time, coop to the box, coop to the box, coop to the box, then coop to the other box, when that one got full. They are now all awake and trying to get out of the coop and trying to get out of the boxes. It's like a chicken frenzy, but yet they were all much calmer than if it had been daytime. I was counting every time I put one in a box. I lost count. Oh dang. Okay, just get them in the boxes, I'm thinking, and you can count them when you put them in the Belle Tower. Done! All chickens in (one of three) boxes. I load the boxes into the truck, and drive back to the house, into the pasture and to the Belle Tower. I use the lights of my truck to get them through the fencing door, and up the ramp to their new coop area. I unload one box at a time, as the chickens huddle in the corner - unsure of what was happening. I did manage to count them as I unloaded all three boxes. 21. 21 chickens. I used to have 24. I knew 2 had been killed, but what about the other one I'm missing? It must have been taken away by a hawk? Or a coyote even? I had made sure I got ALL the chickens. 21 is all there was. But 21 it would be, and now I could rest that they would be much safer than on 355. Sad, but true.



Mission Completed. Levi and Whisper, Guard Dogs Extraordinaire, were watching all this take place on this dark Friday night. Although the chickens were inside the fencing and up on the second floor of the Belle Tower, I knew they were now safe, and under the watchful eyes of Levi and Whisper.



As those in the area know, a cold front is blowing in, and it'll be 22 degrees for the next couple of nights. We have everyone set up with straw, shelter and protection from the bitter north wind. The barn is shut tight. Let's see what today will bring.

Time to rethink the chicken farm.......again,

Cyndi

Welcome, Winter, and come on in

Is it November? Halloween came and went, lickity split.



Guess I'll need to put up the (only few) Halloween decorations I placed around. This is Skully, she makes her way around the farm during the Halloween holidays.



As a nurse, this was my fav pumpkin pic of the season. Wish I had thought of that!


But really

Where did 2019 go? I know one thing for sure, the holidays are coming and that means 1) more days off work, 2) time to reflect on the meaning of the season, and 3) I secretly wish that one holiday season could be about time with family/friends only, with no gift giving/receiving. It's not that I don't want to shop, wrap or send gifts, I actually like doing that very much. I've just been thinking about making this season different than all the rest. Giving of time vs actual gifts. I'm still bouncing this around in my head. It sounds good, but the societal traditions and pressures of gift giving is strong. My main focus about this idea is turning the focus on faith, and people who we love and adore. I'm still piecing it together, and not convinced I can not give gifts (big sigh). I'll need to marinate on this.



Remember Science Fair projects?

They were so simple years ago. Luckily, I now get to do them just because. The dust is settling on the Experimental Chicken Farm, and the stats are looking good. All 24 chickens are alive and well, with credit to Mama and Papa donkey for being there for them. Over a short period of time, we have grown their enclosure, then opened it up for free ranging, and are now in the process of breaking down the fencing surrounding them, to allow them to free range for real. Wham, bam. The process is slow, yet so fast. Chickens grow quick, as they waste no time when it comes to splitting cells. And today, I saw them venture out further than ever before, as we took away some of the fencing that I assume used to make them feel safe. This now allows them freer access to the outside world of '355'. 355 Little Elm Creek Rd is theirs to share with the donkeys. They are still staying close to their Coop (home base), but I see the braver ones pushing their personal boundaries and stepping where they have not gone before (gasp). You know the scariest part of it all? (deep breathe in) I don't know the ending to this story (long exhale). I don't know how I'll set up their next phase of life, as they grow and move out more into the pasture, grow more and start laying lots of eggs everyday, and then what about bringing more chickens in, and at what time to keep this all going because chickens only lay eggs for about 3 year (deep breath). So many questions. You know the best part about that? Google and YouTube and the whole big interweb is at my finger tips to help me along (interject feeling of relief here).



Chuck The Chicken Checker and Chicken Counter suggested checking them twice in a recent text, when a freeze was happening that night. Siri suggested I add that to my calendar. She's so nosy. Yes, David's pic on my phone (right now) is Emilio Iglesias. Sometimes it's Donny Osmond or Drake. Depending on my mood.



Let's go somewhere new

Backie did. It was only a matter of a day or two after Blackie was released back out to the wild, and four five seconds from wilden, he gone. His forehead was completely healed, his sweet self back out to the world and gone. Almost 2 weeks went by before he was back. Where did that boy go? Not to worry, he's back in his Spot in the Tack Room. Thank goodness, Blackie, you had me worried there for a minute (groan). Our hearts had attached to your sweet soul, and you left us. I can't imagine where you were for that long, but I'm glad you're back! For everyone following his progress, Blackie's wound has healed, he's still sweet as pie, and back home with us as an official barn cat. Please don't wander away like that, you scared me. And just so you know, you're now counted in the Population Count as part of our cat community. I took you out of the 'stray' category, so stay close, my dear (muah).



My Magic Pond

It's like a disappearing act. It used to be there, that pond we had. Then the digging started to make you nice and lush, and abracadabra, you're gone (poof). The rains came, the digging stopped and now we wait. It's like when you bring a sweater for the office AC and then are sweating outside. It's good, and then it's not (boo).



You can dance, said Vodka

A backhoe is not as easy as it looks to maneuver. Noted.

Phresh Phood, please

The idea to get the sheep and goats together was genius. It's working out well. They have certainly eaten the &^$#* out of the back pasture. But uh oh, winter is descending, and nothing new is growing. Know what time it is? It's not hammer time, it's feeding time. Fresh alfalfa and hay is on the menu with a side of sheep/goat grain. The goats and sheep act like it's crack, probably because their food supply is down to the ground. They know morning and evening is feeding time, and they like to announce it loud and clear. It's that time of year, when they depend on us for their food, as the pasture is no longer a food source for most all the animals. The donkeys will get a fresh round bale of hay, and the horses are being supplemented with alfalfa cubes. It's definitely the most expensive time of the year, as even the chickens eat more of their feed with less to free range on. It's fun actually, as it provides the opportunity to be face to face with everyone a little more than usual. Love to love them.



Speaking of love, Dotty and Petunia love Dixie's dog house. They are still small enough to hold in your arms. They are so cute with their little horns growing in. Cuteness overload, for sure, right outside my door.


The big change

Just like changing boyfriend/girlfriends or even menopause, season changes can be impacting and difficult. They bring new challenges and effort to adapt. As we move from Summer, to a 2 week Fall, and then straight to Winter, we have to hustle to keep up (hup). We've done it before, and know what is to be done. It all starts with buttoning up the barn. Closing the windows, shutting the huge doors more, putting straw in the horses, goats and sheep sleeping quarters. We round up the electrical water heaters just to be ready. Time to buy hay, alfalfa and round bales and store it. Things. Plenty of things to do. It's a matter of making sure everyone has access to warmth, water and fresh food. The pasture won't be available to them until Spring comes and grass and forbes grow again. It's funny, how this all works. We get so used to feeding everyone in the winter time, that when spring and summer comes, it all seems so easy. The ebb and flow of having farm animals is an exciting concept, and I always feel the relief when he have "made the change". When the animals are situated with proper shelter, and old feeding troughs are new again, then you can be sure the "call of the animals" to come 'feed me' starts (whew). Baaaaa, Maaaaaa, Neyyyy., and the Hew Haw-ing all remind us they are (patiently?) waiting for their food, please. Ready, set, let's get winter going. After all, Brooke has her Ms Claus apron ready to serve hot chocolate, so winter is definitely here.


But aren't you busy

So yeah, we work, have real jobs along with our own hobby's and passions. Never to busy for all we have been blessed to care for. It takes both David and I to make all this happen (yicks). Most importantly, what I have discovered is that both people have to be "all in" in order to care for the animals and property. There's a mowing season, a feeding season, baby farm animals season(s), regular clean up chores and more. Between the two of us, it works wonderfully. Right now though, I'm spending much more time running as I prepare for a race in March. Due to the distance of the race, it requires me to be on the road running for hours at a time. This impacts the routine at the farm. It in itself is a change that I constantly have to be mindful of. Thoughts like: when will I be out running, what needs to be done (work, home, farm), and what is the weather like (very important), so that I can do all I need to do to prepare for the race and be available to handle the chores around the property. So far, so good. But, it's an ongoing process that needs attention. Training for this type of race will wear anyone down, so keeping a healthy balance is always my goal. Right now, it's also about making sure all the seasonal changes are completed so that we all move into winter ready, healthy and well.


Sit Down! No more questions!

This was actually announced by an airline attendant at the small airport terminal in Key West years ago, when the flight was delayed for MANY hours (double digits), and the customers (including us) were getting relentless and demanding answers to their questions. Like, will we ever get out of here? And since I know you have one more question, I'm going to go ahead and answer it:





She was a unicorn.


Welcome to November, my loves,

Cyndi

Let It Rain

I've always liked the way that sounded: Let It Rain. It is literal at times, and figurative at times. Mostly, I like the idea of rain, the sound of rain, and how I can relate it to life. It's so multifunctional.

Let It Rain Chickens

With 39 chickens on the property, it's always a good time to talk chicken talk. First up, is the mystery of who was eating all the cat food in the barn. Well, how best to determine this? How about I set the Barn Cam right next to the cat food. Drum Roll Please......



Veronica, Is that you?



Callie! And Butter, too?



Storm, even you? Looks like you got there too late, girlfriend.



July, I'm sorry all those silly girlz are eating your cat food.

Speaking of chickens, how are the 24 chicks on the experimental Chicken Farm?

Fabulous! They are growing so fast, that from the morning until evening, you can see their growth. That may be a bit of an exaggeration, but here's how much they've grown:



They are in constant motion, and we even enlarged their fenced area this weekend. We have portable fencing on site that's available, and it's going to good use with the chickens. They now have two fenced/connected play yards, and with a tree included. Next stop? Freedom. Not yet, but when they get bigger, we are going to let them free range. That will be the real test of survival. The donkeys have done a wonderful job of keeping them all alive thus far!



This little cutie is an Orpington, whose miniature look gives a glimpse into her future, mature look.


Rain Is Grace

When Pond Incident No.2 occurred (see other blog for Pond Incident No 1), we were recently left with a not-even half completed "expanded" mess. The intention was originally to double the size of our pond, have an aerator placed in it, with a nice fountain. Insert record scratch here. No, sorry. That did not go well, and the contractors we hired were a huge mistake. So after a couple of weeks of driving by the disrupted ground and scattered dirt each day, we decided to take things into our own hands. Technically, David's hands.

It took David and I both making a conscious decision to handle the problem at hand with as much grace, trust and humor as we were both able to suffice. It's not a horrible problem to have, just one of learning. Noted.

Long story short, David rented a backhoe, and had the resolve to try and see what could be done about this situation ourselves. With no experience in operating heavy equipment, he was determined to jump in, kind of like when you close your eyes and take that final step off the high dive. Grit, determination and courage brings about the leap of faith.

Now, since David is not taking any medication that says: "Do not take while operating heavy machinery", he figured he was fully qualified. I'm not sure why a rental company thinks just anyone can operate this kind of machinery, but they still delivered it to us on Friday. I'm not sure what kind of wavier David signed, or if he pretended he had a license to drive it, they still delivered it to us. I was at work.

This was the photo I received Friday morning:



Oh, and don't forget Maybe was involved in this, too:



Yes, part of the fencing had to be taken down. Yes, it takes diesel. Yes, the seat turns around so you can use the digger or the dump bucket (not their official names). Yes, David started using it right away after a 3-4 minute inservice from the Delivery Man.

By noon, David was stuck. Not David per se, but the backhoe. I can't say what my expectations were, as I did not have anything to go on, in the first place. This was Day 1, and he was doing something we've never done before. So, firstly, he gets full credit for trying, and if first you don't succeed, try and try again. And that he did. 2 hours later, he got it unstuck. He worked hard the rest of the day "learning". It was indeed a learning day for him. Good job, honey!

Now, while the backhoe was stuck, David had called Will. Who is Will? Will is the guy who was originally going to operating the heavy equipment from this so-called company we had originally hired. So why call Will? Because Will would know what to do. Turns out, Will never had a chance to come do the work at our property because he went to jail the day before our "job" was to start. When Will got out of jail, he came to our house to apologize for what they company had "done to us" (his words). He was not going to be working for them anymore, he said, and had actually already acquired another job at a construction company. Will had just wanted to stop by and give his condolences. He left his phone number, and we did not think we would ever see him again, right?

Will's phone number was still lurking around on the kitchen counter on that fateful Friday, and when we needed Will the most, he was there. He offered to come to our house after his work day was done and help get the backhoe unstuck. Turns out even though we did not need him for that (did I tell you, Good Job, David?) Will did offer to come run the backhoe and finish the job of expanding the pond. We would simply need to keep the equipment for a week, and between this weekend, next weekend, and evenings after he works all day, he would come and expand the pond. And so that is the plan, anyway.

David dug all day Saturday, and moved dirt and did an amazing job. I think David moved more dirt than the original company had. Then, that next day, that magical Sunday, Will showed up and kicked a$$ on that backhoe. He'll be back each evening this week, and then by the end of next weekend, he expects to be done. Now you must know a couple of things about Will. He's been in the military, and has operated heavy equipment since he was 7 years old, with his Dad's construction company. Watching him maneuver the backhoe is like watching a chef cook his signature meal. With ease, precision and skill. Yes, there's the jail thing. Yes, you're probably a bit leary about it all. You have every right to be. What we found in Will was the old saying, don't judge a book by its cover. Will's the bomb.com, a stand up guy who's trying to 'right' someone else's wrong. He's doesn't "have to" by any means, but he's determined to. Some people feel the rain. That's Will. He feels for others, and we in turn feel for him, and a life of struggle he may or may not have. We do not know anything for sure. If our mutual assistance to each other is beneficial for all involved, then it shall be. If I end up being wrong about all this, then that's okay too. It's like walking in the rain, not knowing when it will stop, if it will stop or what's just up ahead. We are just walking in the rain on this one, along with our good friends, Hope and Faith.

Rewind back to Saturday, Pre-Will, this is what was happening:



David was digging away, hauling dirt and doing things.



He even gave me an inservice on how to operate it. It takes practice, and when time is of the essence, it's not a good time to be practicing. Time = Money with this kind of thing. Plus, I was scared.









So while he, and then eventually, Will worked on the pond expansion, I vaccinated the sheep and goats and did the things that are more appropriate for me. Being upside down in a backhoe would likely be where I might end up, if I'm driving it.








So while this whole thing will be a blip on the radar of life, we are mindful while we are in the moment. Feeling it all, watching it, and seeing someone reach out and help us. We are most grateful. Something that had seemed so basic got complicated real quick. Luckily, it's going to all pan out, one way or another.

And now, it's raining

Outside the window, the drops of water are starting to kiss the ground. All the animals are tucked in, cushions off the front porch chairs, and garage doors shut. The wind is howling, while the thunder and lightening perform their show - as they do so well. A train is passing through Gunter just as the wind is, horns blowing. And the backhoe sits in the pasture, as if receiving a bath. We were blessed with Lauren, Ryan (boyfriend) and her good friend Sydney who came over today to share a meal and time together. The world is turning, as we are tiny specks in this universe who are able to have an abundance of joy, security and love. When I look at it from that angle, the whole pond thing means so little. In fact, its become a comical topic. Something to laugh about, knowing it's not a serious matter in the grand scheme of life. It's all going to be just fine. No matter what.

Bring on the rain,

Cyndi

Nobody said it was easy

The road to my heart is paved with paw prints

And hoof prints, and chicken feet prints, and and and. My favorite time of day is all of the time that I'm outside checking on everyone. 'Everyone' is an ebbing and flowing number. We are sitting at Population 67, after the acquisition of 24 chicks, our two miniature horses and counting Blackie as an official resident now. Happily, the farm is thriving and in a state of calm. Can you actually say that with so many to care for, that it's calm? Why yes, I can.

What about the chicks, man

The chicks are almost feathered out. Meaning they will be able to keep themselves warm, with the cooler weather coming. We actually had two smaller coops that we have transported down to 355,  for them to snuggle in together. And snuggle together they do. Now, tonight is the first night that it's going to be super windy, and cooler weather blowing in. You bet I'll be down at 355 first thing after coffee to check the chicks. The Sheriff has a nick name, by the way. He's also Chuck the Chicken Checker. Did I already tell you that though? So Chuck will likely check the chickens too. It's what he does. When I lay my head on the pillow at night, I need to know everyone is okay. There's never a guarantee. They are good for the night though (as we've got everyone tucked in tight), and I'll take a peek-e-poo at them in the morning to see what's shaking. Those 24 chicks are bonding, eating and splitting cells faster than Usain Bolt. (How he has a name like Bolt and is the fastest person gives me pause. How does that happen?)
Did we name the chickens? Yes and No. They only have names that start with P or D. So you can call them whatever you'd like. Pretty, Priscilla, Dandelion, or Delicious. With so many chickens like that, that's the easiest way to name them, and stay within a name parameter. Maybe the craziest, too.



Some have an abundance of white feathers growing in, which is attractive to the eye, and the eye of a hawk. It looks like about 8 (or so) are Rhode Island Reds, with about 9 (or so) Orpingtons, and then the others are variations of egg layers, and we'll know once they grow up a little more, what their breed is - and if they will all be hens. They do love eating out of their swing feeder.

Blackie, Blackie, where for art thou

Yep, still in the guest room. He went for his second trip to the vet, and a second antibiotic shot. His wound is drying up, healing and the best part? He's bonded with us and is an official resident now. A once feral and stray cat has found his way into the Population - and the guest room. I'd say he has about 2 more weeks, and he'll be set free to roam with the other cats. Did you know he lets us pick him up, brush him, and no longer runs away. We made it into his Circle of Trust. I mean, where can he run really, right? He's in a bedroom with the door shut. Another bright side? He does use the litter box. All in all, he gets a 10 for best behavior for a stray. Welcome! You'll learn to love us. That's part of the deal. We have a great and loving cat community, and he'll blend in wonderfully. Fun Fact: He has an overly stimulated salivary gland, and tends to drool. It's kind of cute.

Donkeys vs Horses

Question: Will you put the miniature horses in with the donkeys? 

Answer: Why mess up the calm?

Question: Do the donkeys and the horses both take shelter in rain, into their stalls?

Answer: Donkeys do. Horses, not so much.

Question: Whose your favorite?

Answer: It's like with your children, you pretend they're all even and the same on the List of Love. But if I were to list them in any particular order, it would go Diego, Mama, Dora then Papa.



Dora, who’s blind in her left eye, gets around well. She's loving the freedom she has.



Diego is the sweetest boy and you'd think he's a dog. He loves to be touched, petted and loved. He's grown into this, as he did not arrive like that. He's offered his trust to us, and we are careful to not abuse it. Well, except when it's time to spray him for flies.

Maa and Baa

Since placing the sheep and goats together in the back pasture, I don't think we'll ever have to mow it again. They are all so docile, sweet and kind. Granted, the goats get a little feisty, as goats do. Playfully so, though. They all eat, eat some more, rest, and eat again. One of my favorite things is looking out the window while washing dishes, and seeing them all grazing. It's very picturesque. The biggest difference between the sheep and the goats? The goats absolutely hate getting wet. They do not like rain, dew in the grass or water on them, or to walk in wetness of any kind. The goats are meticulous at keeping themselves clean, always grooming themselves. The sheep? Uh, no.



But it's Belle. She can do no wrong. Pure joy. Pure love.

Can someone raise their magic pond please

Phresh off the press: Pond workers dried up. Took the bait and ran. 

The "company" we hired has left, with no site of returning. We asked them to leave, nicely actually. If I had taken note of all the red flags shooting into the air, right behinds their heads early on, I could have stopped this train a long time ago. But no, I'm the Master of Bad Contractor Decision Making. Either that, or nobody really wants to come to Gunter and provide quality work. Okay, how about decent work, at least? Nope, sorry. You lose again. This suppose-ed company who began to expand our pond did not work out. We mutually bowed out - and now will figure out what's next. It's like trying to figure out where the last couple of pieces from the puzzle in Grandma's closet went. Do we finish it, do we put it back in the closet, do we buy a new puzzle. Do we throw it all away and forget about it. I'll have to get back with you on this one.

Well, if that's the worse thing that happened this weekend

Ever have a bike rack malfunction? Yeah, that happened today. After a wonderful bike ride to Lake Texoma/Rock Creek to meet David at the Clubhouse after his golf game, we loaded the bike on the bike rack on the truck. Just like we always do. Apparently, not. After a man in a car frantically motioning his arms and yelling the words BIKE!, we realized we were dragging my bike down the road. One tire on the rack, the other off. No one was hurt. That's really what matters. I'll get it fixed, or there's lots of new bikes out there. Note to self: You'll always wonder now, if your bike is "really" on the bike rack securely, from now on. Every time now, I'll be a freak about it. That's not a quality I'm proud to have. It hurt so much I couldn't bring myself to take a picture to post it.

So go on and let the rain pour

After a stormy weekend, and I'm not talking just about the weather - it did rain tonight. A cool front is coming. Relief for all the animals with their fur coats on. A welcome change. A change in season brings a fresh start, new feelings and a sense of renewal. I'll be applying this concept to several areas of my life. Finishing some projects, beginning some new ones.


Did someone say new beginnings?

In the World of Sugar, a trend has started that warms my heart. All the hard work David has put in with her, finally paid off. After 9 months of giving his heart to her, she has finally allowed David to pick her up. And again, and again. Sugar has given herself wholeheartedly to David now. Whatever has happened in her previous life, has begun healing. Her broken self is finding joy, strength and trust on the farm, and now esp with David. We serve it up in heaping, abundant servings - and she's eating it up.

Sharing is Caring

I'll leave you with a nugget of information I learned. I found this while looking at the Weather on my phone yesterday, and seeing it say:  Gunter, 6 pm, 30% with a rain symbol next to it. 

It does not mean:

* There's a 30% chance it will rain and a 70% chance it won't

* Three out of 10 times when the weather is similar, it will rain

* Precipitation will fall 30% of the day (or night)

* Thirty percent of the forecast area will experience rain

No, none of those things. 

Rather, the correct interpretation would be:

* There is a 30% chance that 0.01 inch (or more) of rain will fall somewhere (at that location given, ex: Gunter) within the forecast area. 

This was news to me. 

Let's go find our sweatshirts,

Cyndi




Chuck The Chicken Checker, David's younger alter ego

Strays, The Pond and Chick Palooza

A stray of sunshine

Living "in the country" brings many blessings and surprises, one especially repeat surprise is the amount of strays in the area. We look up, and there's a "new" cat coming and going, running and hiding, just trying to stay alive. Some cats stick around for a few months, eat the cat food in the barn and then disappear. Others come to stay. Sometimes we even name them, some are feral, others are house cats people no longer want who are now very scared. Whatever their situation might be, there's always cat food available to any cat, from anywhere. We have a cat food feeder in the barn, and somehow cats always know where to find it. Rarely do they let us get too close, so we talk sweetly to them and try to comfort the lost soul in them.
In the last year, we've had 3 cat strays who have been around, which we named Boots, Short Haired Blackie and Long Haired Blackie. Very original, huh. Boots isn't around anymore, and you just never know what happens to them. He lived the the garage for several months, and had food and water there. Do they find their way home? Did a predator get them? Short haired Blackie shows up now and again, but not a main stay here. Now Long hair Blackie is the exception. ** For whatever reason we call them all "he's" like they are all males, yet we really have no idea which sex they are. Long hair Blackie started dropping in, slinking in from the neighboring pasture of cows. I could see him on the Barn Cam at night coming in for food, and I could hear the guard dogs barking at him, as the dogs have a different bark for that sort of thing. Blackie is a silky, long hair beautiful cat who likely was an indoor cat. Granted he showed up matted, dirty, scared and with a nice size wound on his forehead, that takes up his whole forehead. As usual, we couldn't get too close to him, but we started making baby steps. We talked to him, made kissy kitty sounds to coax him over, and gave him a cat bed in the tack room, hoping he'd settle in. And settle in he did. He started living in the tack room in the barn, sleeping in his bed up on a high shelf. At first we were never close enough to see his wound. Then, as we started walking through the tack room into the barn, he got to where he would not run away. He hid, but we knew he was there. Over a couple of months, we were able to get somewhat close to him without him running away. Then, we saw it. What had happened to him? He did try to clean himself up, but the wound was too much for him to fight. It got infected and stinky. During this process, we knew we had to get him to the vet. David did the deed of getting him in a crate that we could transport him to the vet in. Thanks, David!
After being at the vet for two days, they were trying to decide his destiny. They gassed him down, cleaned, debrided and shaved the wound area. He got an antibiotic and steroid shot. I went to pick him up, and they gave me a couple of options of how best to "keep him" while he heals. Or tried to heal. He's not out of the woods yet, as only time will tell how this plays out. I'll tell you that we made a critical decision to allow him to live in the guest room (door shut, of course) with a litter box, food, water, clean environment - and safe. We felt the need to give him the best chance possible to see this through. Would he use a litter box, what about the things in the room, would it still be so stinky? Answers: Yes....... I removed many things from the room.....and no. He's using the litter box like a champ. I took so much out of the room to accommodate him. His wound is no longer smelly. It's hard to tell if it's healing, as it's only been 3 days, and it still looks the same. It will probably take some time. It's not worse, though. We will take him back to the vet next week, for a re-evaluation. If the wound is being persistent, they will culture it for things. Bad things. I'm crossing my fingers for progress.



He's found his way into the closet, and likes the shelves there. He's actually wanting us to pet him now, and is just the loving-est cat. He purrs, and leans in when being petted. He's come a long way from the scared, frightened run-way kitty he once was. Maybe he used to be an indoor cat? He's soft, silky and sweet - now that he's gotten cleaned up. But, the thing is......



His forehead has likely been like this for several months, and is not budging and is dodging the healing process. Oh! The vet did tell us 1) he is a boy, 2) he's been fixed, 3) he's negative for kitty leukemia and 4) they found find to be very sweet to them, and completely non aggressive at the vet office. And since we've brought him inside to get well, he's skittish, but does allow us to pet and touch him now. We will see what this next week brings. If it's still not showing signs of healing, cultures will be taken to verify what's really going on. I'll keep you posted.

How's the peeps? 

There's good new all around on 355. The 24 little chicks are doing wonderfully! The donkeys are to be congratulated for making sure these yummy tasty treats are safe. So far, so good. While these sweet things grow and are getting their feathers, we decided to grow their living environment, too. So, they went from a 100 sq feet area, along with their with their coop, to 300 sq feet, including more grassy area for them.



Granted, they love picking the grass for bugs, yet they are such a close knit group of chicks. This is all 24 of the them showing their sisterly love:



They are supposably Rhode Island Reds and Orpingtons. The are supposably all hens. And for us, time will tell this as well. They are getting their feathers - and tail feathers - right now. It's so fun to watch them grow. Just as we are watching our little kids Dotty and Petunia grow. The baby farm animal sounds warm the heart.



David made the chicks a feeder that hangs, like a swing. Well, technically, it is a swing. The purpose was so their food stays off the ground, therefore not attracting ants. The chicks absolutely love it. I actually thought they would eat out of it while on the ground, as he hung it low. But nope, they jump up on it and eat away. They seem to like the little sway of it. We can raise the feeder as they grow, but just having a chicken swing AND a feeder is a dream come true for me. Chicken ladys love things like that.



So while the chicks eat, grow, sleep and repeat, there's happenings across the pond.

Literally, the pond?

It used to look like this, because it's a smaller pond, and loses its water at times (like this) without rain:




It's pretty green right now! The pond can grow to almost twice that size in the fall and spring, when rain comes. But while it was low this year, we decided to have it dug out even wider, and have the dirt dug placed as its berm around it. We are hoping when the rain comes, our pond can grow and become bigger, and hold more water. We plan on putting an aerator/fountain in it to assist with the freshness and clarity of the water. It does house snakes, frogs, turtles and some fish. And maybe some day.......ducks. Who doesn't love duck eggs?!



The digging has begun and the berm is starting to take shape. There's so much more to dig, and more dirt to move. Luckily, rain is not forecasted this week, so hopefully it can be ready when rain does come. Only time will tell.



The purple martin's will have even more mosquitos to eat. We may even have it stocked with fish, if the pond can maintain a good, consistent level. There's a lot more work to be done before we can travel down those thoughts.

So how is everyone 

Great! David is thinking lamb thoughts, and buying-ram thoughts. The kid goats are growing so much, and making the cutest noises you've ever heard. And all 39, OMGoodness, did I just say 39 chicks and chickens? They are all surviving the heat. Dora and Diego (miniature horses) have blended in magnificently and I absolutely adore them. Diego's bray brings such joy to me, as I've not heard these melodies on our farm before. Dora's nature of independence is heartwarming to watch her live her life as she desires to. She's blind in her left eye, yet she's keeps on keeping on. The horse's brays rival with the kid goats maaa's for First Place in the Heart Melting category. And thanks to the guard dogs and donkeys who guard 24/7 so that everyone can relax and live a nice life, it's an eco system all its own around here, with everyone doing their thing. I'm realistic to know something could happen, I just put my faith in the good Lord and lay my head down at night knowing everyone is as happy as I'm able to help them be. We all have water, food and shelter - and love. Lots of love. That's what lol means around here. (For real, my father in law thought that - til his last day, and we never told him otherwise.)

For now, there's a stray cat in my guest room and 24 vulnerable chicks up on 355. Only time will tell how this story will tell its tale, what the horizon will bring, and what the Will of God will be. I try hard to exert my own will, but I know better. I've learned to try and let it be. I try hard to flow with what is around me without fighting too hard to make it something else. It's a work in progress, for sure. (If I only had done so in my 20's and 30's, life would have been so much easier). Older and wiser, but still learning. Every day.

And with time, I'll tell you too, what it has brought us,

Cyndi

It's all in the details

It was a little over a month ago now that Toasted Walnut opened on the square in Celina. I'm proud to say the owner, Audra is a friend of ours - but more proud of all she has accomplished, who she is as a child of God, her deep faith, and her convictions. I dropped by to see her new restaurant one evening, and could not take my eyes off the artistic beauty - and the thought - she has poured into it. The store front is not only inviting, but delightful. Everything is placed with meaning, in a well intended space, as if it was created just for that item. As my eyes took in this masterpiece, I was memorized by the creation of it all. Audra did this. I am in awe of her abilities. As I moved through the front, which happens to be a gift/market area, my eyes continue to take in all the things. From the Beekman soaps (my personal favorite goat milk based products) to candles, and even gifts for men. I mentally browse it all. I see Audra, and we hug and say hello. The restaurant is beautifully crafted and decorated, with the food and drink a spectacular hit. As I tell her how masterful it all is, she said something that struck me like finding a diamond at the diamond mine that sparkles brighter and more beautiful than the rest: "It's all in the details". I'll stop the story here, for now.

It's all in the details. How true. At that moment, everything around me blurred, and for a moment, I was living inside my head thinking about that concept, those words, and the raw truth of it. That's what makes things extra ordinary. Extraordinary. After this dream sequence subsided, I came back to the world around me, forever changed. I went about my evening, with her words dancing in my head. It was the lettering alignment on the front glass of her shop, the fabric of the curtains, and the colors and design of the canopy over the front window. Details that bring out the delicate and crisp conglomeration of all she has chosen, fitting like pieces of a puzzle. I was able to see the details, I noticed them.

Fast forward to my last blog post, Before and After. As David and I spoke about some of the pictures I had used (side note: I didn't feel like a had the type of pictures I really wanted to have, to reflect the palate I was trying paint), David said, "It's all in the details, it's not all the big changes we made, but the small ones that matter the most". Oh My Gawd, did he just say that. His point? It wasn't the painting of the house or a new roof, as much as it was the details in those changes, that made the difference in all we've been creating. He's right. She's right. Yet, not everyone has the capacity to create and make details that are impactful and tie it all up in a bow. That requires talent, thought, creativity and effort. The details don't just happen on their own.

Fast forward again to the farm now. So many changes, so much movement of animals and fencing, so  many ideas that failed along with ideas that soared. So many labor-of-love hours, so much time spent trying new things, new ways, in an attempt to be effective and efficient in all we do out here. And now I finally (my favorite word) get it. Finally. It's all in the details.

To be able to find these details, create these details and pay attention to them is like finding Nemo in a gigantic ocean. It takes practice, time and effort. Brainstorming and having a mind that thinks of the little things. Over time, I've learned to walk around my home and be mindful of what is around me. What's really needed, used and not just there because I'm too lazy to do something about it. What I have found is the more I go through this process, the more I see it all. Taking out the excess brings me to the details. This keeps bringing me back to living in a more minimal environment. Granted, I'm not there, but OMGoodness, I've come SO far. From death cleaning, to rearranging, to donating, to getting down to the things I use - and knowing what I don't use. It's an over and over again thing. And every time I cull and discard, it feels good. Less is more. Less makes me happy. My things had begun to make me unhappy because they took up space, made my living space seem cluttered and chaotic, and no longer created the same happiness they did upon that moment of purchase. It's in the details, and I can't find the details when there's too many things blocking them. I'm happy to say I'm at the stage now where I'm seeing the details. Not only at my home, in the barn or the garage, but out and about. I notice the effort and thought that someone made to make and create places and things that feed our souls, and bring peace to our surroundings.

How do I know I'm getting there? Amazingly, I can feel it all around me. The porch, the kitchen, the garage, the barn......it feels calm. It feels peaceful and relaxing. It's taken me many years to get here, and well worth the wait. Realizing that the things I own, end up owning me, has spurred this thinning-out process to continue. I have gratitude for it, and find such value in it and how it contributes large amounts of positivity in my life. I'm happy to be able to provide this update, if only for my own sake to look at how far I've come. It's a good reminder of the reward that awaits, after all the work and effort. I see the details now, and sometimes even create them.

Speaking of updates, let's talk horses. Dora and Diego have settled in nicely and seemingly switched roles since arriving. Dora was friendly and desiring of touch and attention first, while Diego was standing out of reach and watching. Flip that 360 now. Diego is the first to come up and say hi, ask to be petted, and request an alfalfa treat. He's learned to take it from our hands gently. Our little boy has touched my heart with his sweetness. Dora is older, and I feel like she deserves to be herself, enjoy herself, doing the things she'd like to do. I give that to her. She still comes up for alfalfa treats, too, but is living her best horse life running and playing as she desires. Their favorite thing? Running around the pond. So dang cute.



Dora and Diego have their spot in the barn from the cold, rain  or storms. Although, their preference is to be out in the field, not inside.

The sheep and goats continue to live in unison in the back pasture, with Petunia and Dotty getting big and growing up. They are all happy, content and well guarded by Dixie and Davis. Their barn is plenty big for them all, and life is good in the field back there.

The chickens are staying strong at 15. The heat deters their egg laying, but that's okay ladies, as cooler weather will be here before we know it. While talking chickens, I recently decided that starting a small trial chicken (egg) farm (up on the property we have adjacent to our gravel road, where mama and papa donkey live) sounded like a good idea. I mean, why not? I have an extra chicken coop, feeders and waters. So we bopped on up to Tractor Supply and made a deal for 20 of their orpington and rhode island red chicks, and wham, bam, jiggly jig, we are back home with 24 chickens. Seems they gave us a few bonus ones. The investment of $20 dollars in chicks did not seem too outrageous.



It's a constant eating and drinking frenzy as they split cells and grow right before my eyes.



They even go up the ramp inside the coop now.



I promise this is not how it really looks, the Leaning Coop of Gunter. It's just that I'm not a great photographer. Their coop is double wrapped inside a fence, inside a fence. After all, they are yummy treats. When they are grown and get bigger, I'll allow them to free range. Not yet. Too tiny.

I'm going to see if the donkeys can guard for them, and we'll get them raised, God willing, to egg laying age and see how we manage this trial run of a mini chicken farm. Granted, our 15 chickens up at the house/barn will remain a separate flock for now. This mini chicken farm may grow, but only time will tell if this egg production thing can be accomplished - all up on our property we call '355'. It's the 1 1/2 acres we bought that's adjacent and next door to our 5 acres. This is a trial chicken/egg situation. For now, all 24 chickens are small, and working on getting their feathers. It will be about 5 months before we start seeing any eggs. That's okay, I can wait them out. For now, chicken feed and water is their thing. Supposedly, they have been sexed, and are all girls. I'll also let you know how that goes - and if that's a real thing. Sheriff says No Roosters.

See you out in the field,
Cyndi

I forgot to mention! We had a new run-in shed/open barn built on 355 for the donkeys. They will need it, as we all prepare for winter. Since they have been living there primarily, we decided to make it their long term home. Along with their new flock of 24 chicks. The donkeys do well with chickens, after all, where there's chickens - there's chicken food/feed. And it's one of the donkeys favorite things to eat.



It's a little blurry. This is their new casa.



Mama (on the left) and Papa

Side Note: Our primary residence is numbered 391 on the road in which we live. The property attached to 391, is numbered 355 on the road, therefore, we always refer to it as "355". It's a nugget of pasture we have, whereby the donkeys have their primary home. Now with their new shelter, and our goal for them to guard (donkeys are extremely territorial) the 24 chicks, we'll see how this all pans out. I have no idea.