A deeper well

Ain’t no place I'd rather be than Wolfe City, Texas - population me, my chickens, two feral grandkids, a honky tonk full of line dancers, and apparently, enough snakes to film Snakes On A Farm. All my life’s twisty roads led me right here. 

Country Music Please

A new line dancing (and country dancing) honky tonk has been added to the play list......Southern Junction in Royce City.

Thursday night is 2 step and line dance night

I still hit up Calhouns with my gals Carla, Anne, and Jolene - and the rest of the gang. But I have found a place where boots scoot and line dancing is alive and well in Royse City. Y’all, a slew of people show up for this, anywhere from ages 9 - 90 shaking what their mama gave’em.  2 step is taught first then line dancing ensues with 2 dances taught before the music swells and the crowd starts circling the floor. Best part? It's $Free.99 - cheaper than a gas station hot dog. 

Speaking of country music, I’ve been deep diving into Kacey Musgraves new album and my fav is Deeper Well. She sings like she’s been reading my blog, my mind, and drinking my coffee. 

That line:

The things I was taught only took me so far

Had to figure the rest out myself

And then I found a deeper well

It's natural when things lose their shine. So other things can glow. 

I've gotten older now, I know how to take care of myself. I found a deeper well.

Yes, ma’am, hits harder than a shot of whiskey. Or tequila. Not really sure as I don't drink. But it sounds right.

Granted these are only a few of the lyrics in Deeper Well, but this most recent album of hers explores the themes of self-discover, navigating life transitions and finding inspiration. I still find myself amazed at the world we live in where empowered women of all ages have learned to speak their truth, stay in their power and live their life as they desire unapologetically. The peace that comes with staying true to yourself is remarkable, and apparently a hidden gem that when we find it, we can't ever unsee it - thank goodness. And it's also Free.99 and freeing. 

Country Living in the Barn

The chicks are growing up and out of their small enclosure, so I made them an extension whereby Betty could finally be together with her chicks. 

Betty, Beyoncé of the Barnyard 

After I settled the smaller chicks (who are growing!) into the duplex next to the older chicks, I did let Betty in to nurture her babies as she has maternal instincts so strong she’d probably adopt a possum if it walked in.

Betty was like “say less” and open the door 

Nurture is Betty's middle name. She has been busy teaching her 8 chicks life skills (4 easter-eggers and 4 silkies all who I bought at Atwoods and are not Betty's actual children). Don't shhh, don’t tell her she birthed none of them. She tirelessly teaches bug-hunting, food scratching , and how to give the stink eye to barn cats and snakes. She's in it to win it and raise well-adjusted children in this crazy world we live in. 14/10.

Betty with her feathered Brady Bunch

Betty has done so well that I've opened up the duplex so that all 12 chicks can be together with her. The other 4 chicks (who are the oldest) are now in community with Betty and her 8 chicks. So this allows Mama Bear to care for all 12 chicks together and trust me when I say Betty understood the assignment. The adoption papers were signed and Betty now has 12 babies to educate and prepare for the real world. She’s considering a Pinterest board titled, Raising Well-Adjusted Chicks in a Chaotic World.” and who better than Betty. 

Country Living in Grandkiddo Land

Brooks and Olive are living their best lives as tiny, mostly-naked, hose-wielding barn-sperts. 

They spend a lot of the time naked out here

Olive is a good helper, sorta

Olives job? Dump all the chicken feed out, then try to scoop it back up. Sometimes with her hands. She's adorable chaos. 

Brooks, on the other hand, is already acting like Assistant Barn Manager. If I step off the curb, he'll be the one to take over the barn responsibilities and provide an inservice to all others for proper feeding, watering and caretaking. Maybe even issue ID badges and unionize the chickens. I think he was born in a tractor. 

The feral children do
have clothes

Country Horror

Sometimes bad creatures creep into the barn and I don't even realize it. Until they show themselves to me.

This guy

Back story? Because you can't have too many chickens, I recently went to Howe to take a flock of 12 chickens from a lady much like me, but who no longer wanted her chickens. Wait, so I guess she's not really like me. Anyway, I brought all 12 of her Rhode Island Red girlz back home and set them free in the barn to start making new friends.

You go girlz 

So here’s the real thriller: I go to the barn letting my new girlz out, minding my business, collecting eggs when a snake pops up like “Hey, girl.”

Wait, I thought. Did I just see a snake peek its head out at me, from behind that piece of wood? As I walk closer to take a look, I could see it looked like multiple snakes behind the piece of wood leaning against the barn wall. Long story short – it was not multiple snakes, like my eyes told me. It was one big slithery son-of-a-hiss, living its best life off my unpaid egg supply.

Let me tell you, there is no plan when you’re suddenly in a boss battle with a reptile. I would ultimately MacGyver that fight with a floor scraper, shovel, tree trimmers, and a wrench. Oh, add in the metal cutters and it was a DIY horror show meets CrossFit. That snake was strong. I’m pretty sure it could bench press me. Little did I know what was ahead of me.

But really, it all made sense. It had been eating my eggs for a few weeks now, because I had noticed I was picking up less eggs than usual. Odd, I would think. Picking them up right next to the snake's casa and who knew. Not me.

And to think it was the snake that showed itself to me. Just saying hi. This is where things took a turn. I was attempting to push the heavy snake with the scrapper from behind its living quarters and then attempted to pin it with the scrapper. But no. It slithered away so fast I did not see where it went. In one blink of my eye, it was gone. I'm in the barn looking around for it as I'm not going to let it win. If your not first, your last. 

I knew it was still in there, it had to be. It had gone around the corner and was in the other side of the barn now. I'm looking and looking for it, and then I walk by a coop that was almost up against the wall and there, the snake caught my eye. It had slithered up the wall pushing itself between the wall and the coop - up off the ground hiding from me. I had looked under that coop, but it was behind the coop off the floor. Tricky snake.

I begin to gather tools for this job not realizing it would not be enough. My scrapper and my shovel. Yep, that should do it, I'm thinking. I'll pry it out from behind the coop with the scrapper and jab its head off with the shovel. Yeah, that's my plan. I don't know how long I fought with that snake behind the coop and wall but it finally fell to the ground and acted like it wanted to get me. It opened its mouth so wide and showed its teeth and tongue like it was at the dentist. It could open its mouth wider than I could open mine. Where was I? Oh yeah, trying to hold it down with the scrapper and cut its head off somehow. But you know what? Once I was able to sorta pin its head down, I realized how strong it was. And now I understand (after trying and trying) that neither my scrapper or shovel was sharp enough to cut its head off. And it was taking all my energy just to hold the snake down with my scrapper, which is sharp and has a long handle but not ever gonna kill a snake. Not nearly sharp enough for the large rubber tire of a body this snake has. 

What to do. Think, Cyndi, think. OK, within stretching arms reach, I could see a wrench on a shelf that I could then use to pull my tree trimmers close enough to grab. All while holding that snake down with my scraper. So using my third arm, I grabbed those tree trimmers and was grateful I had laid that wrench where I had. It had come in handy. These tree trimmers are about 2 feet long and I use them to trim branches hanging low on trees. Certainly, I could get this finagled around the snakes neck and trim it like I would a tree branch. And after much to-do, twisting and turning and fighting the snake to keep it from running away from me, I finally get to the point where I could ooch my tree trimmers over and under its neck. I then use my knee to push down and close the tree trimmers enough to secure the snake within my grasp so it could no longer get away. And I was finally able to let that scrapper drop to the ground. I then picked that snake up off the ground, about 2 feet away from me in the grip of the tree trimmer.

The unfortunate part about this was that the tree trimmer, although could cut a branch of a tree it was not sharp enough for the thickness and texture of the snake. By now, the rest of the snakes body is trying to wrap itself around the tree trimming handles and get to me so that it could somehow release itself from my grip. I didn’t even scream (on the outside). So I’m holding this snake up off the ground above my head and as far away from my body as I can all while trying to figure out what to do next.

It was in that moment that I realize the only sharp enough instrument that I had in the barn to cut off this snakes head was my metal cutters. They too are about a foot and a half to 2 feet long, and the mouth of them do not open up as big as the tree trimmer. So that means I’ll have to hold the tree trimmer tight with my body and legs while I use my wire cutters to slowly make nips around its neck to cut its head off. Ugh. Yes, it was a slow death, and it was a terrible and awful thing to do. But it was either the snake winning or me winning. And I wasn't gonna be last. 

In this moment, it was hard for me to realize that I was holding a huge snake with my tree trimmers and slowly nipping away at its neck with my metal cutters until finally, the head was separate from its body.  I watched its body thrash about and I knew that there had to be a better way.

Just to think some people enjoy this

It’s also in this moment of a thousand thoughts that I realize I need to clean my barn out of all possible snake hiding places. And that I would do with time, actually the next day. But in this moment, I would also need to figure out how to get rid of the snake that is now in two pieces. Like a good southern lady, I put it in the trash and prayed it wouldn’t come back to haunt me.

First though, one needs to take a pic.

And to think it wasn’t even stretched out all the way

And that night, I dreamed that the snake came back to life and out of that trash receptacle and back to haunt me. 

So I decided to do something about all this snake nonsense. Yep, I'm going to get a snake gun. A shotgun. My first ever gun and one that I will use. 

Side Note: The snake did indeed leave me on Monday via the trashman, and spoiler, my irrational fear of the snake coming back to life was indeed irrational. 

And so on Tuesday, I walked up to the Gun Bar at Academy like Rambo’s little sister, telling the man behind the counter "I need a gun."

He looked at me, blinked twice and calmly said, “….For what?”

“A snake”, I relied with the dead seriousness of a woman who has seen things. "Oooohhh," he said, seemingly relieved of that information. And he and I proceeded to determine what would be best for me and not a snake. I then made my first ever gun purchase: a single shot 410 shotgun and shotgun shells.

Let’s see, am I doing this right?

Wait, I better draw my victim. 

And then set this about 5 feet away from me,
before I fire at it. 

I was told a few profound nuggets from the gun guy: It would be loud. Have a kick. And don't shut my eyes when pulling the trigger. I'm not sure how one prepares themself for their first firing of a shotgun, but likely the most important step is just having the guts to pull the trigger. 

And they sell guns to people like me

Who have no aim or
knowledge of correct gun holding 🤪

I practiced. Missed 4 times. Hit the pretend snake on shot #5. Just enough accuracy to scare a squirrel. Barely.

Yet, I’ve learned many unfortunate things recently. What it takes too buy a gun. What it takes to shoot a gun. How loud a gun is and how it will kick you. And how I need to figure out if I can shoot my gun in the barn and kill a snake and not kill any other living being. People make it seem easy to kill a snake with a gun. But is it that easy? 

5th try ☑️

I'll be ready for the next snake - in my head, anyway.

Cluckingham

Chicken math has been a part of my life for almost 10 years now, starting with my 2 Rhode Island Reds, Ginger and Butterscotch back in 2016-ish. I think about them and look forward to seeing them again one day. They were the ones who taught me what chicken love was all about. And just to think I thought 30 chickens was alot and anybody who had 30 or more chickens must certainly be not-right. I already know I'm not-right and don't need way too many chickens to tell me that. 

Okay, started with two chicks. Now I got….I dunno. A lot. Somewhere between “enough for a dozen eggs” and “might need my own ZIP Code.” I just don't have a real number at this point.

But I can try......Let’s see, include my 12 new chicks and my new 12 Rhode Island Red girlz who joined the flock this past weekend, plus these and those.... insert calculator clicking. Well actually…..it's too hard to say. I don't know how many chickens I have except to say it's in the triple digits. You see, I've lost a few since I've moved here, primarily from old age. I have many old girlz, and one recent passing was a tough one, Veronica, my diva bantam. 

Beauty Queen of the Flock

Veronica was my heart in chicken form. I cried a good cry, and I was extra wonky for days. I am always wonky when I lose a chicken, but this was way worse. I knew she was old, and I knew she wasn't going to make it once she 'went down' inside a coop to take her last breathes. 

Back in the day, she would sit on the dog
bed, I mean, her throne

Always an excellent photo bomber

Girl, I'm gonna miss you. Still scanning the yard for you. 

Rest easy, my sweets.

We will all miss you 💔

I've found my deeper well,

Cyndi, Queen of Cluckingham

Late addition to the blog, just as it was to be posted.......

Okay, I went to the barn to check for eggs tonight, turn their night lights on, and make sure everyone was tucked in tight just before dark as I always do. While checking for eggs, guess what I saw: a 🐍

Yas! A big one, too. Just sitting in a roosting box having dinner like he pays rent. 

So what do I do?  I RAN! Like Forrest Gump back to the house, grabbed my shotgun, my shells and ear protection and locked the dogs up in the house then literally RAN back to the barn putting my ear protection on all at the same time. 

I got back to the barn and the snake was still there. I hurriedly put a shell in and dang it if the chickens were curious about the snake. I kept trying to shoo them away with my end of my gun and finally could take a shot. I took the safety off, aimed and fired. BOOM! I hit it! I loaded my gun again and BOOM! I hit it again. It blew 2 big holes in the snake but it was a big enough snake and still moving. So you guessed it, while it was bleeding and I knew it would eventually die, I loaded up a 3rd shell and hit it again. I blew that sucker up. Then, for good measure, I took my new tree trimmers (I had gotten after the last snake incident) and I tree-trimmed its head off. 

You just try to get away, go ahead while I load another shell

Yeppers, I blew a hole in my roosting area too

My new tree trimmers are snake-sharp.

I have no patience for any snake in my barn. Stay out. I’ve got aim now and vengeance in my soul. I will blow you up. And lastly, there will be golf balls placed all around for you to swallow and I hope you enjoy those too while I go grab my gun.

I still can't believe that the same day I practice shooting my shotgun for the first time is the same day I actually use it for the purpose intended. Just so you know, I did not hesitate. I did it. I'll do it again. You’ve been warned, reptile demons.

Stay county y’all. 

Farmily Update

 

The Littles

As the pack has grown, so has their undeniable bond. The Littles have become tighter than yoga pants after Thanksgiving. They are a community who circle each others universe like hens to scratch. Like a solar system of snuggles. A goofy galaxy of seemingly 10 year olds being 10 but in dog form. Unpredictable, predictable and everything in between.

Theo The Terror
He's all ears 😈

Lil' Theo (Theodore, if he's in trouble) is turning 1 in June. He has an insatiable passion for kissing (aka licking). Everyone. Everything. If your not covered in Theo-slobber, are you even in the pack? Yeah he looks innocent but don’t fall for it. He's triple trouble - part sass, part chaos, and all love. He may be the smallest dog on the farm, but he's got the tenacity of a toddler hyped up on sugar, mixed with the energy of a 5-shot expresso. Holy terror at times. Pure goodness in moments. My little 5 alarm fireball. 

Then there's my old girl, Maybe, my senior sweetheart living her golden years like royalty.  Heart murmur with her mortality coming for her, she lives a life of luxury on her bed only getting up for pets or snacks. She's 14 1/2 dog years and still classier than most people at brunch. You go girl. I mean, you nap girl. 

The Sunshine Senior Resort isn't ready for your
kind of fabulous, but we'll make it work.

My heart, Sugar. My twin. She's my heartbeat with fur. I'm convinced our souls are connected across dimensions. She's seen me at my best and my mess. We've raced across Tennessee like Thelma and Louise but with better hair. And the mere thought of one of us leaving this earth without the other is my worst irrational fear. 

I loved having you with me every step of the way!

She welcomed Cooper into the pack with 
the caveat that he sleeps at the end of the bed.

And we all know Crazy Charlotte. She has that "Don't talk to me before coffee" face. But underneath that tough cookie crust? A gooey chocolate center. The grinch after his heart grew 3 sizes - only with more fur. This girl is why I don't have to lock my door at night. She's got bad bitch energy.

Oh you'll know which one is Char

Theo adores Char. She tolerates Theo. 
Kind of. Most days. 

And my newest addition, Cooper has blended in nicely. You know I took him in as a 'rehome' dog, and he's settled like he'd lived here all along. Sweetheart? Yes, but don't test him. He has clearly defined boundaries and enforces them like a seasoned therapist. He's a boundary boss.

Declan was in love

Also, he's now permanently in a tshirt.
It's his vibe.

That's the Faithful Five or should I say, Fateful Five. My furry legends. Let's not forget the honorary member of The Littles, although far from little. The Marvelous Mia. You likely remember this is how I received/found her......

My heart was broken when I found her, and
then received her as my own, like this.
Defeated. All bones. Broken spirit. 

Sweet girl, you trusted me. You allowed me into your dark and sad world, and together we both went on a healing journey together - and have come out the other side. We rebuilt each other. I'm SO proud of you, my kind and gentle girl. You have shown me what resilience truly is, how to love again and stay strong through the struggles. She didn't just find me, I believe she chose me. 

You could model for a dog food bag, girl.

Picture this: Me just trying to pee. And 5 dogs following me like I'm leading a parade through Disneyland. Yes, even Maybe shows up. 

Like a 4-legged flash mob

Then? It'll be back to the other room.
In formation. 

Now, let's talk chicks. Literally.

Listen, in my head, I say "no more chicks, man". But in my heart, I want all the chicks. 

So here's what happened. I was at Atwoods and they had sooooo many chicks there. So many, that merely taking 8 chicks off their hands seemed like nothing. Like cotton candy, it's just nothing. 

Now, after raising them in their bathtub for a few weeks, they are now in the barn, in a farmhouse upcycled chic penthouse. Then came Betty,

An upside down box springs was the perfect
new home they needed. I'm a fan of an upcycle.

I had my older chicks (all feathered and hatched in the barn, accidentally) on one side, and the younger ones from Atwoods on the other side - with the heat lamp still needed.

Then, as they grew some more. I transitioned the bigger ones here......

The Fab Four get to interact with the big girlz (aka my hens)
through the safety of a fence and chicken wire

These older 4 chicks are now in a fenced area in the barn, living a more open yet confined lifestyle amongst the hens. The remaining 8 Atwoods chicks stayed behind in their box springs, minus the heat lamp and plus a hen. Let me explain.

Mother by manifestation 

Wait, please let me start over. I was at Atwoods. I bought 8 chicks. 4 silkies, 4 easter-eggers. Super excited. Already had 4 chicks at home in the barn that were hatched accidentally on purpose because at the time I had had some roosters around, which is against the rules here but I did anyway.

I moved the older 4 hatched-here-at-the-farm chicks into a fenced area to start adapting them to the flock, and kept the 8 (purchased) younger chicks in the upside-down box springs housing area. 

Here's the tricky part. This black hen thinks they are her chicks now. I'll call her Betty. Betty was sitting in a nearby roosting box (where they all lay eggs) and was doing her chicken-thing of going broody sitting on fake dreams (aka eggs that would never hatch). But Betty does not seem to know this. She does have a bird brain after all.

But after a unfortunate egg crack incident and a hen hygiene intervention (aka I noticed she was wet and icky underneath her due to an egg break) I picked Betty up and placed her out of her nesting area at which time she locked eyes on new chicks and said "Mine now".

In that moment something clicked in Betty's chicken bird brain: she instantly knew these chicks were HERS and has not left their side since. Even though they are underneath fencing, in a cage and she can't actually get to them, they are hers. She guards them through the fencing with the passion of a tiger mom. 

So now, Betty gets fussy with me when I try to 
feed and water her chicks. 

Betty is making my life more difficult than it needs to be. But you know what, Betty? I'm also going to pretend they are yours. I can do that. But really? I try to feed them and you fluff up like a feathered security guard at a nightclub.

Luckily, these babies (apparently with a mama now) will grow up and also be placed in their next housing unit of a fenced area that gives them more freedom and room to move about. I might even put you with them, Betty. I mean, why not. Until then, you'll have to wait on top of the chick penthouse for your babies to feather-up - and then you'll have real visitation rights. Soon, Betty. Soon.

Donkeys and Horses, oh my

Summer = Fly Season. Which means fly boots are IN.

Pink is the new black, Pippa

Hope and Pippa are working the runway in bubblegum pink flywear. Work it girls.

All equine are rocking the fly spray, fans are blowing to keep the flies guessing and the fly ointment is flowing.  

This young lady, Alexis, made the magic happen.
We haltered Hope and Pippa and made them fancy.

My farm fashion assistant, Alexis helped with this outerwear. but also helps out in all areas of the farm and I thank you soooooo very much for all you do! You see, she's come regularly to help out on weekends. She's up for any and all chores no matter how stinky and gross because chickens can be stinky and gross. Her boyfriend, Max (they are both 17) also helps out here and recently they used the lug wrench to take off the tires on my trailer. I've been in need for new trailer tires  - and BOOM, these 2 made it happen and got my tires off in record time. I pay them in gratitude and pizza.

Are they not the cutest? 
Mia thinks so.

He trimmed my trees, they both mowed like they own zero turns, and she took care of assorted barn things - and I really do appreciate them so very much. They have young, electric energy and I learn many new things from them like what to watch on Netflix. 

Careful girlz, I jacked this baby up

I would later take my 2 old and well-worn trailer tires to a tire place (thank you, Spencer for the recommendation) called Trenton Tire Shop.

I don't think I'm in Trenton anymore

Super excited about the thought of this highly endorsed tire shop, I drop by there after work one day with my two old tires still on rims in the back of my truck. A guy is out front fixing a tire on a truck. At this point, I'm not exactly sure who works here and what's about to happen, but he comes over and with very little English, seems to "ask" me what I need. I explain I'd like 2 new tires for my trailer and then show him my old tires in the back of my truck. In broken English, all while a chicken is dust bathing at our feet, I feel like he's telling me that he will get me new tires but can't get me used tires. Perfect, I'm thinking. That's what I want. Then I realize that he has used tires stacked up all over his property and probably sells them primarily. 

New is fine I tell him. I'd love new tires. So he proceeds to pick up the tires out of the back of my truck and I think he says something to the effect of "come back tomorrow at this same time". And he walks away with my old tires. He disappears into his 'shop'. I think that means I leave now? But he doesn't know my name. Or my phone number. What about how much will it be? He's just gone. I leave because I think I'm supposed to leave now. 

At work the next day, I quickly look for Spencer to quiz him about this tire shop situation. I tell him what happened and he says, "Yep, that's right". And proceeds to tell me he's taken many tires there and they do a great job. Oh yeah, and take cash when you go to pick your tires up. He only takes cash. 

But wait, how much cash do I take? I have no idea how much these new tires will be, and he will place them back on my old rims, right? And does the guy know I need trailer tires and not car tires? I'm so unsure of what is happening yet I know I need to trust this process. So I do. I sing the Frozen song and Let It Go.

As instructed, I stop by the ATM for cash after work before stopping at the tire shop that next day with scited (word smash of scared and excited) anticipation. Will the tire shop guy remember me? Does he know which tires are mine? I wonder how much it will cost. 

I drive up and there he is, working on a tire on a car. I guess the front of his "shop" is also his work space? I hop out of my truck and he says Hola in a happy voice. Hello I say, smiling. He motions that he will go get my tires and says como esta as he walks away. Am I to follow him into his shop and pay there? I try to keep up with him but he's quick. As I step into the door of his "shop" trying to follow him, I see a lady to my left, stirring a pot on a stove. Oh, she's cooking dinner. She waves at me but her eyes tell me that I should not be in the "shop". Which I quickly think may be their house? I turn and walk out as quickly as I walked in. Then, there he is behind me holding my tires. I say to him, 'good'. I'm answering the question he asked before he ran off. I'm good. Then I change my answer and say 'bueno'. He smiles. I say 'como esta' to him. He says bueno and smiles. He's thinking, bless her heart.

My truck is right there, and he places them in the bed of my truck and shuts the tailgate and we seem to be done. Except I still don't know how much it is and I need to pay him. Awkwardly, I ask, how much? He says $140.00. 

What? Only $140.00? That can't be right. The tires are new, beautiful, mounted and ready to be placed on my trailer. I have the cash in my pocket and pull it out to count his 140 dollars. Then I give him another 20. Then, another 20. He's so happy that it makes me so happy. He begins saying kind words of gratitude, some of which I know and others that I'm pretty sure are happy words. Yet, I'm the one whose feeling grateful for him and his work. He's a blessing to me. In that moment, I realize that this is what life is all about. He and I are in harmony with one another and although we can't vocalize all our feelings in the same language, we can see what we need to see on each others faces. I can't wait to need another tire fixed because I know exactly where I'll be going. Where the big piles of tires are, dinner is cooking, and the chickens are free ranging and taking dust bathes at my feet. 

Summer Barn

Summer Barn is very different from winter barn here in Wolfe City. I love this hot weather, but it's hard on the chickens - and on Paul.

Winter Bar: Tarps, heat lamps and heated water buckets

Summer Barn: Open, fans going, lots of fresh water

Thus far this summer, the chickens are doing amazing. But it's not 100 degrees yet. 

Getting settled in for the night

They even roost on the stairs in back
tack room. 

The horses and donkeys are rocking their new space and their new gear. Trying to be a responsible equine owner over here. Trying to try to make sure they do not over-graze on sweet green grass. 

Gotta keep those feet looking good - and healthy,
which means sweet grass is limited using portable 
fencing that I move around.

The goats reside at the barn and have their own space and housing with protection from the elements. 

These two 🐐🐐 always playful and curious
- they enjoy a playground

Paul The Turkey is living his very best life and still wins the Most Popular award amongst farm visitors. 

Paul and his best friend (his reflection in his mirror)
are lifelong mates. 

My old man

Emerald (Emmie) is growing up! 

Caught you snoozin' 💤

Ducking great! My two quack a doodles just go from one pond to the next, yet come to the barn for safety to sleep each night. And for late night snackin' of chicken food, just saying. 

My ducks are in a row.
But that's easy when you only have 2

All in all, I have a healthy understanding that to all my farm animals - I'm the Food Lady. I'm also the Safety Officer, the Health Manager, and the CEO of Love for them. There's no where else I'd rather be and no one else I'd rather be for them except all these things. They are gifts I get to unwrap each and every day.

Safety is Not An Accident

Good News! I've learned how to use a chain saw. I'm ready for Halloween. 

And taking care of large, heavy tree limbs that fall from above. Considering I have 1,001 trees around here, this is a skill that although I do not enjoy, I do have a great need for. After my first encounter with my chainsaw, Chewy, we've become very close and cut to the heart of every problem together.  

Too heavy to move? Where's Chewy.....

All extremities and fingers intact ✔

Farmily Time

Love me some family farm time. My sister, Sheryl and hubby, Gene along with their daughter Kristin and her children, Savannah and Declan hung out for the day recently. Also making an appearance was my Lauren and her two littles, Brooks and Olive. The kids had a blast playing together - no one got hurt, we had smores and the sweat was pouring as the fire ball in the sky had it's way with us. 

That wood sure came in handy during
'Smores with the Fam'
.....like it wasn't hot enough without a fire

Savannah, Brooks and Declan 💗
Please stop growing.

My farm girl

My family is my North Star. We love each other for who we are and there's no place like home - and family. 

Mom, Dad and Sis 🥰

And as my little house is coming along nicely, work is good, and life on the farm is amazing with family and friends, I feel happiness and joy that words are not able to express. It's a sense of wholeheartedness. Serendipity. Bliss. The glory of living in my truth. Does it get better than this? I don't think so. 

Me…..Also, Olive

I've never felt such happiness in all my days. I've discovered I am deserving to be the girl I never got to be. So here I am now - doing it all. I had to be lost to be found - and I found me.

With dirty boots and a full heart,

Cyndi