It has been a minute

It has certainly been some minutes since I've met you back here, and would like to say Happy New Year! (again)

And I'd like to say a big happy birthday to David who turned 65 on the 19th! Look at you go! Some folks would not have predicted it.....but you continue to prove those folks wrong. Vintage 1958. And as a wonderful gift, the tax office is going to provide you a '65 and over' tax exemption and lock in a tax rate for you. Happy Birthday to yoooouuuuu! We happen to love senior discounts and concessions. I'll take all we can get. 

I can't imagine life without this

Oh, by the way

I got a text the other day that surprised me yet didn't surprise me. You see, there's a neighbor whose not a neighbor that lives down the way whose land is on the west side of ours. We share a fence line, he with cattle, goats and sheep. I can't technically see the mobile home in which he lives, but it's across the acreage over there. If I've ever mentioned him before, I've likely included in the conversation that he's 129 years old - and still caring for his animals and his land (and his fences). He's always dressed in his blue jeans, boots, button-down shirt tucked in, with a belt on. He's always put together whether he's mending a fence or walking his land looking for a lost sheep or lamb. I've mentioned prior that we've had his sheep in our pasture, even his ram whose apparently gotten our own sheep pregnant. We've taken his lost lambs back to him when needed, and assisted his goats when they've gotten their head/horns stuck in the fence, unable to get free and are crying and crying. 

We consider his flock and herd as animals that we listen for, care for when needed, and also observe daily as they are usually just on the other side of our fence line. Our eyes are drawn to them, knowing they are there and enjoy watching his new lambs frolic and play, watch his young calves play with our little dogs through the fence, and enjoy his animals although they are not our own. 

The text I received was from Janet, whose the wife of Fred, whose the son of Mr Galvan whose 129 years old. Fred is the actual land owner of the 20 acres that Mr Galvan was living on and taking care of, as Fred and his family live in Austin. Janet was just letting me know that Mr Galvan had his 92nd birthday and that he was going to now live with one of his sons (who he has 7 of) in Whitewright as it was getting too hard for him to manage his land and animals. And.....that they had already sold all his animals....in one day. 

I was unsure how to feel about all of this. I was happy his family was able to assist Mr Galvan in his time of need. But I'm going to miss him - and his animals. He was all of 120 lbs maybe. He was frail yet strong. A obvious hard worker, whose work was getting to be too much for him. David and I had just seen him recently mending an area of his fence and had stopped to ask him if we could help. 

Now, he's been moved. Janet texts that they are coming to see him and would love to stop by and meet us. I've texted Janet a number of times, for example when I've needed to let them know we were having our adjoining fence rebuilt. The cows were pushing over the old fence that had been there for years. Janet and I have stayed in touch for other various reasons and now this. And she and Fred did indeed come by our house on Sunday afternoon while they were in town visiting Fred's father, Mr Galvan. The first thing they told us after we greeted one another was, "My dad passed away yesterday". 

I again, was so sad. I was sad to lose him from our lives, but now he's really gone gone. Mr Galvan was part of our lives, part of the world in which we live. No, he was not 129 years old, and instead he was 92. And now he's gone. And all his animals are no longer along our fence line. As we all sat on the front porch and reminisced about Mr Galvan, they told us about all the people he's helped in his long life, and how loved he was and is. We talked about whether they will sell their land or lease it. They said they will likely lease it and offered us first dibs at leasing their 20 acres for 158.00/year. I corrected them and said, "a month you mean?". No, a year, they say. With their ag exemption, their taxes are $158.00 a year and so that's what they will lease it for. To pay for the taxes.

Let me get this straight. I can use your 20 acres for farm animals for $158.00 a year. Yep, they say. Well this is certainly a twist. Is this an opportunity to raise mini cows? longhorns? bees? I'm going to need to think about this a minute. I'll get back to you. 

So as we pay tribute to this kind man we knew as Galvan, a lifelong rancher, a dedicated working man til he was 92 years old, I'm thankful for the opportunity to have known him. Fred told us that his dad had told the family that 'without his animals, he would die'. And he did. Rest in Peace, my sweet friend. My eyes still search for you walking in the pasture, and I look for you along the fence line on my way home, wondering what you are fixing today and if you'll allow me to help you. I'll miss you. It's just not the same without you. 

Never enough

I assume you are familiar with the egg shortage these days. Who knew. How does this happen? While I'm sure I could google that and read about it further, I'll just say that if ever I thought that selling eggs from a road side stand was a good idea, it's officially a good idea now. 

This embodies the community of life with 100 chickens 💛
So much love, safety and community with these girlz.

Once upon a time I had 2 chickens. Then 8, then 12, then my chicken math told me I was at the crazy-number close to 30 chickens. Then I hovered at 60 chickens, then up to 80, and have now surpassed 100 chickens. Yep. I blew the door off the crazy-number of 30. I thought that was when people were officially cray cray. I now know that no matter how many chickens you have, it's always better with more. 

A few months ago, David and I bought chicks at a local feed store in Sherman. David always encourages me to get more than I originally say I want. He knows me. 

Then, this past weekend, I drove out to Ivanhoe to pick up 24 laying hens (18 months old girlz) from a operation out there where a couple, very similar to us, started doing chicken things and now have 300 chickens. They have hoop coops separating out and housing their meat chickens, their layers for eggs, their roosters, and their reproduction area where they raise more chickens. I was in awe. There is a chicken farmer inside me screaming "me! me! me! I want to do that!" 

But I'm a registered operating room nurse for now not a chicken farmer with hoop coops. Maybe one day. 

Where was I, oh yeah, I now have just over 100 chickens. 

Look at those little girlz roosting in the sun
during this beautiful afternoon of warmth

I love this. I love everyone of these sweet hens. I may not be getting an optimal number of eggs these days due to the shorter days, overcast weather, winter weather and molting time for many girlz. But their egg production will increase come spring time. I can wait.

I love how Paul naps in his spot during the day

The egg customers, on the other hand, circle the egg fridge up by the road like hawks on a pasture of mice. They hover and wait for the Sold Out sign to come down and grab the eggs, sometimes within 5-10 minutes of me placing them in the egg fridge. At $2.50 a dozen, I sell out every day. It's a community service whereby I like to provide folks with fresh quality food at a low price. That way, everyone can have access to fresh food. 

This location and set-up is the best yet.
Not quite as janky as it used to be.
I even have a note typed up, laminated, 
and on the front of the fridge, to keep the 
customers updated on my intention
to increase my egg production ✅

As my new pullets grow up and start to lay eggs around March or April, and my newer girlz (I recently got from the couple in Ivanhoe) will likely settle in and start laying more eggs more regularly - I expect my production to increase so that I can provide more eggs to the public here in Gunter. I now make more than enough money to cover my feed costs, and we are also selling David's homemade biscuits and his BBQ sauce in there as well. The homemade buttermilk biscuits are a big hit! 

Part of what is helping this feed situation is that David volunteers at The Community Garden Kitchen in McKinney each week and is now bringing home all their "expired" and extra food(s).

It's sooooo much food. Yet, if David does not take it, they throw it in the dumpster. So, they save much of it for David as they know the farm animals will be the recipients of it all. I'm forever putting bread out for the chickens, along with pies, vegetables and canned foods of all sorts. 

I usually place the bread in some water so that it becomes mushy enough for the chickens. The bread is older (not yet moldy though) and it usually too hard for the animals to eat. But with a little fresh water, it becomes a delicious treat! Maggie has to stay in her pen - otherwise she would eat it all and that is not a good idea for her although she thinks it would be a good idea. But she's not a good judge of how much is appropriate to eat. So she watches and waits patiently.  

The facility where David volunteers cannot use certain canned foods if the can is damaged. So, we have a lot of green beans, tomatoes and other random foods that are in a can and actually perfectly fine. I understand this facility has rules on what foods can and cannot be prepared for humans - and the outcome of their extra food is that our farm animals eat like we do. Real food, real nice. Heck, David and I eat a bit of what he brings home, too. I mean, why not. This food is from Kroger, Tom Thumb, Sprouts and other grocery stores. After all, this is what I see in the grocery store and now it's in my garage and tack room/barn - free. Perfectly good food not going in the dumpster. I'm here for that. Did I mention my farm animal feed cost has decreased? 

Oh, just a reminder….

When you can’t get in the front door...... 

Always lurking with the Ring camera watching him

Just take a nap on the front door mat.....

He's sure one day he'll be invited in

I am going to bring him in the house one day. Just bring him in and let him live with us. It's just that he's a bit loud. That's all. 

Stock Show

If there's something I'll miss about Lauren and Ryan living in Fort Worth, it's their proximity to the Health and Science Museum (Children's portion, mainly) and the Stock Show each year.

So much fun!

I love the curiosity of children

Brooks, Lauren and I went over to the Stock Show, as I also took Brooks over on my own recently as well. Both times, we all had a blast! Brooks, like most children, is a big fan of all the animals. 

He wanted in there so bad

This year though, Brooks got a lighted wand toy from a vendor at the Stock Show and walked around with it as his prized procession. 

We enjoyed seeing all the cows, sheep, goats and horses. Add in a fire truck and a fireman giving out fireman's hats and badges - and it's every 2 year old boy's dream. 

The joy of a hat and badge - and 
sitting in the front seat of a firetruck! 

So much love for the horses. He called them all by the name, Dora. As our mini horse Dora is the sweetest ever, and apparently therefore, all horses are named Dora. 

As I close down a very-farm-themed post, I'd just like to remind myself how fortunate I am. I'm alive. I'm able to care for my animals. And for this I am grateful. I find that it really cannot be taken for granted and I cannot do this forever - and not likely til I'm 92. Every day that I'm out here, living life truly out here, is my 12 year old self's dream come true. There's no where else I want to be. This is my daily vacation. My get-away. My happy place. My source of joy. I want to thank God for allowing me this in my life. I just shake my head sometimes and am amazed at how fortunate I am. And that in this universe, I'm trusted to do this - take care of animals. 

I, in turn, wish for you whatever it is that brings you peace and joy in your life,

Cyndi.................who is somehow able to create a mashup of farm life and running life. I've recently created a trail route around the property for running. It's a 0.55 mile loop that never leaves our property - and instead of pushing the dogs in the cart, they run behind or ahead of me. Pretty sweet. Why did I not do this sooner? 

 

Someone please tell me

Where does the time go? I've been mulling this over for quite some time. And even though that sounds like a play on words, it's true. I think about where time goes after we are done with it. When I asked Google where the time goes, it says that time mostly goes on the x-axis because it allows for other qualities to be a function of time. And that in most cases, time is independent of other variables. Since that was not exactly what I was looking for, although I thank Google for its answer, I'm needing something much more than that. After all, I think I learned that in 7th grade. My questions for time are now much different. Give me something more woo woo, or maybe more scientific. Just something about where time really goes. 

Turns out, I find that both Einstein and Newton have conflicting theories on how time works, but both agree that time is only forward moving. And then, turns out (liking the turning out thing today apparently) it's a classic argument regarding the flow of time. The No-Direction theory basically says that unlike many things in life that are symmetrical or circular, time is one-directional or asymmetrical. Also as taught in physics, that basically, time has no direction. 

Then, to complicate the long standing question of 'where does the time go', I find it's often speculated that time might only exist in your head. Apparently, there are many philosophers and theorists that feel that time does not actually come from the physical world, as it's said that time comes from four-dimensional space, and then Einstein's Theory of Relativity comes into play. I won't go into all that as there's not enough time or space in this blog to even touch on it  - and it'll also save you time in your precious life.

What I've learned is that time may not be what it seems. Time is not necessarily past, present and future. True, time can be dependent on what someone's definition of what time is. Time will forever be discussed in books, dissertations and every other kind of genre in this world. I mean, time is a TedTalk. The topic of time is written about in thousands of books over thousands of years. Time is debated at such a detailed level by so many people that there's no way I can wrap my head around it all. Time has been debated for all time over generations and generations by many people and by many genius's. Yet, still today, no one can definitively pin down this time phenomenon. And here we are....asking so casually....where has the time gone. No one really knows and that's incredibly fascinating to me. 

Letting Blackie go.....when is it time?

I've put off blogging for the very reason I did not want to re-live or talk about losing Blackie. It just hurts. That same deep hurt again, like I felt when I lost Winston only a month ago.

Too pretty for a barn cat

We lost Blackie this past week. I cried many days before he passed, I cried (and exhausted myself) the day of his passing, and still feel the sting of it all when I think about him. Every animal is so very special, and Blackie was no exception. 

For so long, he lived up here

Until he could no longer get up there....

We were fortunate that 3 years ago, Blackie decided to pick us to help him. We had seen his elusive self, slinking around, to eat and take safety in the garage, then eventually in the barn. We keep cat food out in both places for our own cats, and also for cats that just 'show up'. Blackie was different in that he was a long-haired black beautiful cat who appeared more of an inside cat than outside. For quite a while, as we watched him secretly come and go, we never knew if he was male or female. We just knew "that's a beautiful cat" - yet feral. His long bushy tail was unmistakeable. We were never allowed to get close, and if we tried, he'd slink off quickly.

Then one day, he decided he needed us enough to allow us to see him - just close enough to notice the wound on his forehead.

This is how he came to us initially, with a 
wound that seemingly would not heal on
it's own

It was around this time that we decided to trap him and take him to the vet for the wound on his forehead. It definitely needed attention. So we did trap him to his dismay and we made our way to the vet. The vet would tell us we'd need to bring him inside the house so that his wound could heal, administer antibiotics/medication and that it would take about 30 days (give or take) to help this infected wound heal - with medication and a clean environment. 

Unsure about what we were getting ourselves into, David and I picked the guest room upstairs to release Blackie in (who was 'wild' at that time and so very scared of us) to which he promptly ran to the closet and stayed there for most of the duration of his healing. He did in fact use the litter box we placed in there, and he did take the medication we would put in his food and in treats. 

By the time Blackie's forehead wound healed and he was ready to be released back outside, he had become tame, trusted us, and allowed us to love him and pet him readily. He was just the sweetest boy. Oh yeah, and we figured out he was a he. He also had a piece of his ear cut off signifying that he was indeed neutered. 

He would share his little cat house with 
chickens.

He would patiently wait for the chicken(s)
to lay their eggs, their head back into his little 
house and happily lay on/with the eggs.

Since that time, Blackie has lived in the Tack Room in the barn, taking shelter on a shelf higher up inside a 'cat house' that in the winter time would include a heating pad. 

Blackie readily shared his cat house with the chickens, who often times laid an egg in it. Blackie did not mind, and once the chicken(s) finished laying an egg, he was happy to lie in his little cat house with a chicken egg in it. He was so laid back about it all. Chickens, no problem. Eggs, no problem. He's a sharer. 

As time went on, he moved downstairs off the 
shelf and onto a softer bed with a heat lamp,
when needed.

My sweet boy just kept getting smaller

Then about 6 months ago, Blackie started to lose weight and even limp a little. After that did not seem to get better with trying new cat food(s) and encouraging weight gain, we took him to the vet. The vet proceeded to tell us that he was very old, that he was losing his teeth and that weight loss in older cats is not unusual. He also noted that Blackie had severe arthritis and his joints were swollen and sore, therefore limping might occur. This all made sense, but yet there was not a fix to his issues. Pain meds, but no long term fix. Fast forward to his symptoms worsening, more weight loss, more limping and back to the vet we go. A steroid shot would be all they could offer along with noting a spot/place in his mouth that "might be cancer" or that Blackie has an auto immune disorder contributing to his issues. Hence, my prior blogs indicating that Blackie was on hospice, as he would not be recovering from his health issues.

Blackie began to become more and more frail

As Blackie continued to lose weight and decline in health, he would remain in his area in the tack room with a bed, a heat lamp, a litter box and food/water all within a central location for him. He seemed to be very comfortable there, and we both enjoyed seeing each other each day we came to the barn to feed all the animals. He would ask for pets. Sadly, he would lick only the juice from the wet cat food we would offer him. He was so thin, and was down to 5 lbs at this point. 

We knew we were going to lose Blackie. This is the point that every pet owner dreads. Do we allow him to pass on his own - or determine it's time to end his struggle and pain. 

After talking with my friend Marjie, she too had a dog with this same situation and a similar decision to be determined. And just like with Winston, we knew we should talk to a vet about this again. Marjie also told me she utilized a vet who would come to your home, to help determine this type of situation - and the magnitude of it all. So we called Dr Henderson at Beyond The Rainbow to come out and see Blackie to give us another opinion and help us make this decision. 

If I could ever recommend something to you in your life, it would be this. I've never done this before, but Dr Henderson did come to our farm, and reviewed Blackie's condition with us. She too informed us Blackie was not going to get better or improve, and like the other vet had suggested, that Blackie likely had cancer or an autoimmune disorder occurring. He was so tiny, and said he's likely "eating" just enough to stay alive and is motivated by seeing us each morning and night. After all, he has everything he needs at his paw-tips to exist in life, but that his body is barely thriving. Dr Henderson went on to explain that many times, cats will go away when they know they are going to pass on. They will go hide or run away to pass on. David and I both knew in our hearts that it was time to let Blackie go. It's just hard - every time - to make this kind of decision. We just knew that we did not want Blackie to run off and pass on his own. That seemed too sad for us - and him.

Our chalk board in the Tack Room

Dr Henderson would be able to assist Blackie to pass in his own bed, in his own comfortable, loving home with David and I with him. And he did. Blackie crossed that Rainbow Bridge with David and I at his side, talking to him, allowing all the smells and feels of his own bed to embrace him. It was a peaceful way to allow a loved one to pass on. His little body was worn, and I wished for his spirit to be free from the cruelty of what life can bring. Dr Henderson was so comforting, and I'll never forget her grace and her ability to make this hard transition as good as this type of situation can be. I'm so very grateful for her. 

A few days later, I saw this......
I wasn't expecting a note back from Blackie,
but wow, I felt this deep in my heart. And cried.

The blessing in this experience was that we were at home. I had Sugar there with Blackie, as he just loves her so much. Sugar may not be reciprocal regarding his feelings, but she is extremely tolerant of his love towards her. 

He shares his warm bed with Sugar. They both
wait patiently under the heat lamp while I feed
all the animals.

Blackie loved Sugar. Sugar 'tolerated' Blackie's 
love. Sugar's love is hard to come by in general.

On his final day, Sugar was there with us, and 
Blackie could not take his eyes off her. He
always wanted to nuzzle Sugar and love her.
She would try hard to allow his love.

Death is never easy. I've often thought that I could prepare myself for an upcoming loss by reasoning and reassuring myself that it's 'better that way' or somehow that decision is best for an animal. Yet every time, I find I'm not prepared. It's a pretend 'prepared' I prepare for and then reality hits hard every time. With the loss of Blackie erupted the same pain I recently felt with the loss of Winston. Blackie had also chosen us as his forever home. Blackie allowed us to care for him, love him, and granted us the privilege of his precious meows every time we walked into the Tack Room in the barn. Lucky for us, the Tack Room is the thoroughfare to the inside of the barn. It's where we prepare everyone's food. It's where we would see him day in and day out. Rain or shine. Blackie was a mainstay for us. His presence is so very missed. The room is empty without him. I'm still adjusting to this change. Yet I tell myself I can visit him just around the corner, as David buried Blackie behind the shed we have. He will forever be where I can find his spirit. I can hear his sweet meow right now.

My sweet boy, before he fell ill 💔

Not quite sure why, but I might find him 
leisurely sitting in his litter box.
Rest easy, my sweets. 

Life out here - while running

Speaking of animals that chose us........something that happens fairly often, but I don't often talk about is what happens when I'm out on a run. I run mostly on country roads, not well-traveled roads, and roads that can be unpredictable with animals that are loose - esp dogs.

Yes, I can't resist loving on
dogs out here

Ryan and Lauren had gotten me some bear spray awhile back after an encounter with a German Shepard that decided it did not like me going by on the road. This particular German Shepard came running at me so hard and so fast that it hit the cart/Bob stroller (that I often take Sugar and Maybe in on my runs) that it knocked the front wheel completely off and had it's whole mouth around Maybe's body in the cart. Since I carry a can of wasp spray for just this reason, I was able to deter this particular dog and even was able to speak to this dog owner about this. 

Nonetheless, it's a risk when running. Dogs. They are my biggest risk factor on the road. I've been bit, as you probably know already, and can tell you a dog can tear you up in about 30 seconds or less. Give them a minute or two, and as you've heard on the news, dogs can kill. They don't need alot of time. 

The above dogs pictured happen to be good dogs. Friendly, kind and respectful. But how do you know when they come running up to you as you're running along? You don't. You just make sure that you are "ready" - just in case. I've gotten quite used to this. And I'm happy to report that most dogs out here are good dogs. 

This is a recent example, and many times that I'm talking to Lauren or David on the phone while out running - they can hear barking dogs around me. It's part of the dealio. Sometimes these dogs will run along with me for miles. Yes, for miles. These dogs (above) had run at least 4 or 5 miles with me, when David showed up in the car. Why did David show up in the car? Because I was running towards Sherman for us to go eat lunch, and he was going to come and grab me on his way there. I have a particular route I run from Gunter to Sherman and David is well-versed on the route. He is an exceptional crew as you know from many of my races. I suppose it's never really a surprise that I have a dog following me or in this case, a pack of dogs around me as I run. 

David sees this probably more often
than he'd prefer.
I love Sugar's head sticking out the back
of the cart seeing what the heck is happening.

Do I want to take these dogs all back home with me? Of course I do. But yet, they are healthy-looking and most have collars on, so I know they are likely wanderers and probably have a place to call home. Will they find their way home, yeah, I bet they will. This particular pack seemed well-versed on sticking together. I enjoyed getting to know them as we moved down the non-busy back roads. The little black Schnauzer had a WonderWoman collar on and has been groomed/shaved short with a beard in place. The 2 Great Pyrenees were a girl and boy who seemed hauntingly similar to my own Penny and Dutch. The other (2) male and female St Bernard mixes were so sweet and surprisingly soft. The female dropped back and went back home, but the others stayed with me - until I got in the car. David just shakes his head as he never knows what he'll find when he comes to grab me off the road and take me to our favorite Mexican food place in Sherman. 

I think part of the journey and excitement while running on country roads is who and what you'll come across. I'm already a sight to see while running and pushing a Bob stroller with dog(s) in it. That in itself qualifies me for full-on Crazy Town. And then to come across more dogs - and what happens after that - keeps my life bubbly and fun. I love it. But I do have the Bear Spray (and wasp spray) if I need it. Usually though, its love and a soft voice these country dogs want. That's what I'd want if my dogs got out. Someone to treat them nicely. So that's what I give, along with a good run that they are likely not expecting. 

The healing's going well

I'm happy to tell you that I had my stitches taken out from my recent Moh's procedure for skin cancer. 

Wow, skin does not look that great close up.
The healing is a bit lumpy bumpy, but 
that's just how it goes. It calms down after 
a year or two and the scar becomes less visible.

I'm fortunate that I heal fairly well. My skin does well with stitches, and I'm always happy that I haven't gotten an infection from these incisions that happen more often than I prefer. After all, I wear a mask at work that rubs it, and I'm in a dirty barn cleaning and feeding farm animals. It's a wonder it heals decent. I'm happy to report the outcome is positive. 

It's healed well and for that I am grateful

For me, cancer can tend to encourage oneself to ruminate on death and dying, and where the time goes, and why I run out in the middle of nowhere for hours with my own dogs - I only have one answer: It's the season of life I'm in. I do ponder the mysteries of death as I have many senior animals on the farm and am a senior myself married to a senior. And it's been said that it only takes two generations to be forgotten. I do wonder if time is only from the current moment and forward. And there's very few things I'd rather do than be out running on the road with my little Sugar listening to audio books. It's where I'm at right now. These things feel right to me. It feels natural for me to do these things. The people who do drive by me on these country roads, in their cars, may think otherwise and I get that. I mean, who runs down the road with a tiny dog in a stroller and 5 dogs circling around them. Oh yeah, I do. Sometimes our lives make perfect sense to ourselves and not to others. The acceptance of that idea has been my life's work. 

Happy New Year!

Cyndi

How about a Brooks video for a more upbeat ending.....he's at the museum in front of a huge screen with dinosaurs, with his dad.