Back in the swing of life on the farm is comforting and theraputic. There’s so many new things happening! I’ll start with the chickens. We have certainly had our ups and downs with our chicken flock, but have seemed to find a happy place with the number of 15. We tend to swing in 'number of chickens' from 12-18 these days. Sometimes, we accidentally get a rooster, then minus one. That just happened (again), and luckily a friend wanted him, this time. Her/His name was Cloud, a beautiful light ombre grey chicken. She/He came with a recent intake of the 8 chickens we purchased from the Old Wild West chicken farm in Oklahoma. Supposedly we had all ladies. But no. One rooster snuck in, and we did not know it for a couple of months, as it takes time to really know whose a girl vs boy when it comes to chickens. Then all of a sudden, she was cock-a-doodle-doo-ing. You know the rules around here, Sheriff says "No Roosters" on the premises. And away he went this past weekend. His best friend, Storm was left wondering what happened to Cloud? Storm was the same chicken breed, but a darker ombre grey, hence more fitting for the name Storm. So far, she's still a girl in our eyes. It's a interesting phenomenon how chickens are in a flock all together, but 'pair' up with a chicken that looks like them, and typically their same breed. After all these years of having chickens, that still fascinates me. Anyway, Storm/Cloud is now broken up, and Storm remains with us, while Cloud is heading to a farm in Lowry Crossing to be his real rooster self. Storm continues to stay with the flock with her "other" half now obviously missing.
Chicken Math, it's great. The ebb and flow of our flock is always fascinating. We seem to always be counting and recounting. Recently, I made one of my better chicken purchases! On CraigsList (not sure why I was looking for chickens there, but they DO have lots of farm animals for sale), I found the deal of a century. Four silkie hens for $40.00. They are 6 months old and just starting to lay the smallest, cutest eggs you've ever seen. Silkies = chickens, like Yorkie's = dogs. Small, super cute, strong personality, packed full of punch and pizzazz. Yes, I got four of those sweeties! A white one, grey one (bonus - technically a Frizzle! Google that), a brown one, and a black one. They have been raised together and do everything together. OMGoodness, love them! It's as if they are somehow invisibly attached, roaming the yard in a tight knit group. And the best part is my existing Ladies welcomed them freely, so +4. Boom. I'm still trying to come up with names for these cuties. Right now, we call them The Little Girls. They all give me an egg most every day.
We have had another new grouping of animals join the farm. I surprised David a couple of weeks ago with a new Anatolian/Great Pyrenees livestock guard puppy. David has been asking and talking about getting a new guard dog puppy, who our existing guard dogs would train, for the farm. Our two Great Pyrenees, Levi and Whisper (brother and sister) are the best-est and most awesome guard dogs! Lately though, Whisper has begun to limp on her back left leg, and over the last 2 months it has worsened. We had taken Whisper to the Vet (which was a event in itself, since she's never left the farm) when she first started limping, and the Vet said she has arthritis, and not much will help her. But now, it's much worse, and so back to the Vet we go. We decided on a Surgery Work-Up including more extensive X-rays and evaluation, to see if any surgery might be available to help her live a better life. If it's a hip replacement, or whatever is needed, she's still young enough to live a full life without this pain she's having. What this means in the grand scheme of things is that she cannot guard like she used to. At least not in her current condition. And if this continues, we would need to train a replacement, and take her out of working the pasture. We have decided we need to bring Whisper into the inter sanctum (kind of like our front yard), as we call it, whereby she can relax and not have the compulsion to "work". She's not able to run like she used to, and she knows that. I'm not really sure how she's going to do with that scenario, but a change has to be in her best interest. To sum it up, a new Great Pyrenees/Anatolian puppy was now a necessity. I ended up bringing home a new LGD puppy, as a love gift to David: A boy puppy that David would name Davis, in memory of his recently deceased mother, as that's her maiden name. He's a handsome 8 week old puppy whose parents guard for sheep and goats, and they are big dogs. He will be the same. But that same night, David asked if there were more puppies available. Yes, I tell him. She still has 5 girls and 1 boy puppy left. David asked for 2 more puppies! WHAT? Is one puppy not enough? "Another boy", David says, "and then how about pick out one from the remaining girls". And so I did. After work the next day, I trek back to the same farm to pick up two more puppies. The two brothers and sister are now reunited at the Graves Farm. David's own puppy-dog eyes talked me into 3 puppies total. They are beautiful dogs, and will be large and in charge once trained by Levi. The process with take at least a year, but we will get there. This is all in an effort to relieve Whisper of some of her duties, and hopefully we can manage her pain. Her pain stops even her, from her natural instincts. So we will see where all this puppy business takes us. Right now? We are in puppy heaven, soaking up the joy of their love and loyalty. The other names for the boy and girl? Since they are his puppies, David ended up naming them all. The girl: Dixie. The second brother/boy: Duke. Our new puppies Davis, Dixie and Duke will be the next generation of LGD (Livestock Guard Dogs) that will guard our sheep, chickens and barn cats. And we thank them all every day.
We have one last addition to the group to introduce. Not yet born, but in Eve's belly, is a lamb. We now know for sure Eve is pregnant, and are pretty sure Belle is not. Belle has always been shy and sheltered. We have raised her as our own baby since she was one day old, feeding her a bottle around the clock. We are imprinted on one another. This is not to say she can't get pregnant, after all, Sam did his job with producing a lamb with Eve. But Belle is Belle. She's not your normal sheep. (This is what all mom's say, right? But my child is different. Special). Yep, that's Belle. If she's also pregnant, she's behind Eve timewise, so I guess time will really tell that tale. Now Eve is obviously with lamb. The thing is, I don't know when she's due. It takes 5 months for gestation with sheep/lambs. I guess we will find out with time. Eve is doing well, and lets us love her, and pet her more than ever. She's going to be a good mama. Thank you Sam, for giving us the opportunity to have baby lamb(s). I'm going to cry that day, for sure. A new lamb born in our barn will be a joyous occasion. Eve is the last/youngest of triplets, so can you imagine how hard I'm going to cry if she has more than one baby. I have chicken skin right now just thinking about it. Goose bumps bubble all over me at the thought of "the day". The day we have a lamb born here. I'm that 12 year old girl again.
God is good, and continues to bless us. We love and adore all our farm animals. They each have their own distinct personality and add a wonderful dimension to our little hobby farm. We have a lot of work to do in regards to training three new LGD puppies into adults that will do an amazing job. Granted, David nor I have done that before. We also have research and learning to do in regards to lambing. Shepherdess Cyndi has things to figure out. But then again, everything here from chickens to donkeys have been new at some point, and we do our best to keep everyone healthy, happy and safe.
I'll keep you posted,
Cyndi
I've already named the baby lamb Grace. Hope Eve has a girl! And just like everything in life, I probably have no idea of really what's to come.
Saturday, October 13, 2018
Friday, October 5, 2018
10 Things I learned at Ironman Chattanooga
- These people are my people. Everyone around me craves adventure, challenges, and pushing ourselves to a place of fascination and discomfort, all at the same time. We are all thinking the same thing, feeling the same feelings, having the same recurring thoughts (did I train enough, do enough, etc), and vibrating on the same universe level. We are focused, nervous, excited, and have the need to be around each other, even if we remain quiet. We crave the incessant logistics, and actually welcome the uncertainty of the “big” day. What will happen on race day? It’s an intriguing and grueling option in life, that even I don’t always understand. But the other racers do, and we silently go about our preparations as one big spiraling, ball of chaotic energy trying to reach the finish line. The closer we get to that Finish Line, the tighter our bond gets.
- Unpredictability is the name of the game. No race is really like the last one. There’s different external conditions/locations, weather fluctuations, personal feelings, training preparations, and body condition. In the case this weekend, the flooding in Tennessee has been so extreme that the Tennessee River was no longer safe to swim in. The swim portion of the race was cancelled, and racers were disappointed. Considering we were told the E coli levels were dangerous in the water, and the current would sweep you away, it was best. This is after months of swim training that everyone did. The early mornings at the pool, the endless laps, and the anticipation of what the swim might be like, vanished. And, there’s also the unpredictability of things like flat tires on the bike portion, malfunctions (all-of-a-sudden) from your once-reliable bike. The hydration and nutrition plans that go awry in a flash. Esp on the run, when you need it the most. It’s almost as if you must prepare for the unexpected. A full day of swimming, biking and running has to be planned, practiced and mastered. It can be done, and we can all do it. It’s just a matter of “is that your passion”? Anytime I participate in an activity that generates a large amount of unpredictability, it makes it even more of a challenge. Esp a mental challenge. Our body is a machine, we can all train it to go the distance. But our mind? What's a whole other aspect of racing. If a situation becomes unpredictable, mental strength has to be greater than your physical strength. My mantra for those extreme unpredictable moments? "Be calm. Stay calm. Stay in the moment. You can't think if you panic. So stay calm, Cyndi." And my favorite? "It's going to be okay". I say it even when I know it's not going to be okay, and then.......stay calm.
- The famous question: Why? The most common question asked. But why do you do it? And why do it? Most people would rather give their big toe, or take a sharp object to their eye, than compete in a endurance race that saps vast amounts of time from life. I had many people I met during the race, tell me that's the most common question they get. Why? And then even the racers would ask each other, how do you answer that? It seems we all came to the same conclusion: Because. There is no definitive Why. It's like asking why does the sun shine? Why do the clouds look like marshmallows? Why is there starvation in the world? So many questions in life remain unanswered. This will likely remain one of them. Why did you participate in the Ironman, and want to do it again? There is no Why.
- Surprisingly so, food played a much larger role in this endeavor than I realized. I typically bounce along in life eating what sounds good, what hopefully is good for my body, and then eat sugary things because I just love it so much. What I learned about food this time around is, that if you give in to food your body is not used to at a critical time, it can upset the apple cart. It took one wrong food choice Day 1 of my arrival in Chattanooga to realize that I need to tow the line on food until after the race. I had been training on particular food sources, that when I stepped out of that box, my body said, "Not a good idea". I quickly realigned myself until after the race. I had fallen into that trap of eating comfort foods over and over, and adjusted my body so much, that when let my guard down, I paid a hefty price. As much as I'm a fan of non-attachment to food, I had been on autopilot so long with my training foods, (which always made me feel energetic and good), that it was a wake up call to see the effect it had on my body, when I choose otherwise. Noted.
- There's no place like home. Vacations are great, hotels are nice, eating out is new and different, but really, I like being home. So the hotel I stayed at was great, comfortable and convenient. I really have no complaints whatsoever, except that it's not home. You know how this goes, you find your new routines on vacation, new sights, new smells, new people. It's wonderful for a period of time, them home beckons. I came back home with a new outlook, which brings me to :
- I found I did this race for me. That's what I learned when I arrived back home. I could feel it as I was training, moving inward and being happy in the process of it all. It was a personal journey that fed my soul. The more I fed my soul, the less I felt the need for others to feed into it. I have found a level of satisfaction during this Ironman journey, unlike any other. I didn't feel the need to talk about it when I went back to work after the race. The internal satisfaction was beyond my own understanding. It was all about moving through the training and race - with me, myself and I. I also learned that a big part of the reason I felt this way was the natural and unconditional support I received from my family. They watched and supported me throughout the process without question or resistance. And I am most grateful for their undying love and devotion to allow me to be me. This time, the fan fair and celebration all bubbled deep inside my soul. Inside me, not outside.
- I found comfort in the discomfort. Who knew I would ever think that discomfort meant to keep going. One foot in front of the other. Don't stop. Keep moving. Don't stop. Keep moving. It was a natural mantra that played over and over. A record I could not turn off. I found the discomfort wonderfully calming, as that meant I was getting there. It's all a part of this process. It's the one thing that is expected, and it will happen. It's a guarantee. It's about taking a deep breathe and resetting yourself. When I looked around, there was discomfort everywhere, as everyone around me felt it, too. There are varying degrees, but we are all in this together. Regular people like me there at the race are all feeling this same way. It's not all sunshine and unicorns. But the Finish Line will allow all the discomfort to fade away, and bring about the exhilaration and smile that remains.
- It's not about having a snazzy bike. I love my bike! I've spent many hours alone on it, covering many miles. Her name is Lil Blue, and she's a Quintana Roo who is a tri bike I happen to adore. She's not snazzy, she's just-right. A fancy-pants bike is not necessary. I've passed many a biker who might look like a pro, but looks can't get me to the finish line. High dollar equipment can shave minutes off your time, but I've found a good training plan, dedication, consistency, maybe a training coach and most importantly - a good bike fit will be key to success. When you and your bike fit like a glove, you move well on it. Biking becomes easier, less injuries occur, and enjoyment of the sport improves. A reliable tri bike shop can fit you to your bike. It makes a world of difference.
- What you build from training will last for months. Now I love this one. It's a great feeling to think you can bust out a century bike ride, go run a marathon or decide to swim around the Island of Key West -because you can.That's the wonderful part of pushing yourself to your personal edge. The payoff is not just finishing the race, but being able to walk out your front door and go. Go far.
- Anything is possible. Ordinary people can do extraordinary things. It doesn't have to be about swimming, biking or running. Climbing mountains, crossing the desert or getting to the moon. I mean day to day things in life. We can do whatever it is we desire, and we have the freedom to do so. It still amazes me that it's so easy for me to be able to do the things I'd like to do. Living in a free land, that allows a endless amount of options for people to chose from is priceless. God is ever present, and comes along for the ride every time. Right there with me. The peace and serenity that brings, along with the faith and trust in every step I take, no matter where I am, is what sees me through it all. I love this feeling of "I can do anything!".
This particular journey was different than all the rest. Mindfulness and enjoyment were my best friends. During the long bike and runs, calm set in. I smiled more than I ever had in my previous trainings for Ironman races. It flowed well. My sweet husband, David and supportive daughter, Lolo supported me every step of the way. I'll carry the journey of this race in my pocket forever.
I'm back home with my tribe. I'm blending back into normal life and it feels so good. The people I met during these last 6 months have been fascinating. I think about them, and what they do every day. People living their lives, the way they want. Pushing me to keep going, and be the best in my endeavors. I can take a step back now and reflect. My soul is settled, my heart is happy and onto other things out there waiting for me. The window of life is open wide, and I'm busy looking out that window deciding where and what I'll do next. For now, home. It's about going to work and coming home. The farm animals need me, my love and my touch. I want that as much as they do. Probably more.
Proud to have Ironman #6 under my belt, with more lessons learned that ever imagined.
Cyndi
Tuesday, September 25, 2018
Compare and Contrast
Over the last 4-6 months, I've come to realize many things, but one in particular seems to stand out in my mind right now. It's the similarity of how aging and Ironman triathlon training, while two completely different things, are amazingly in alignment with each other. Let me explain.
First, the commonality of your body aching is front and center. There's the long swims, with correct form and cadence, that wreck havoc on your arms and shoulders. Almost like you might have been the starting pitcher for The Rangers, and pitched right and left handed the whole game. Your not sure if your shoulders are okay, or if it's the upper deltoid that's sore. It's like aging and getting older, when your muscles are sore for no reason at all. Like a relaxation accident. Something just starts hurting in your body somewhere. I guess with triathlon training, you at least know why. The long bikes and long runs each bring about achy legs and tight hips. Then, sit down after those events and try to get back up, and that's what I'm going to look like at 73 years old. Maybe 71 or 75, but somewhere around there. I'm going to look like I'm training for a triathlon, but the difference is, I'm not. I just walk that way all the time now. Repetitive motion pastimes such as biking and running brings about the tightness I'm going to naturally feel at 70 years old when I wake up. Triathlon training = Feeling like I'm going to feel when I'm 70.
Next up, fatigue. I need more sleep when I'm training. Aging brings about the need for more sleep, as well. Getting older is the time in life when your body is making up for all those years you drove yourself in the ground. Running around, working, taking care of others, and living life hard and fast. Very similar to triathlon training. You are constantly teaching your body to go further and faster, and this makes a body tired. You know what they say, "Go Big or Go Home". I'll think I'll go home, and take a nap when I get there.
Let's get personal. Knee pain. Hip pain. GI upset. Eating too much. Eating the same things over and over. Falling into comfort routines. Doing the same things over and over. Wondering what it's like when you seemed to have time to do other things. Wearing less make up. Intentionally and not caring. Not wanting to go out. The couch feels so good. Tinkling in my shorts - or will do so just about anywhere. Showering less because your just going to get sweaty again. Wearing the same clothes because "their not that dirty". Yep, these are all signs you are training for an Ironman. And. Getting. Old. Why didn't anyone warn me? There was a book on What To Expect When Your Pregnant. It is a week by week book of expectations in regards to the various body changes during pregnancy. Where's my What To Expect When Your Old book?! It should come with a warning label: BEWARE: This is not going to be all rainbows and butterflies.
And then there's the things you can't "see". Hemorrhoids. How does this happen?! Do you know how hard it is to bike with a hemorrhoid? Prep H can be your best friend in times like this. Age brings about these lovely reminders that you need to wipe gently. Careful, don't wake the giant. Ahhh, aging is wonderful. Triathlon training is preparing me for it more and more.
Now the good thing is, with age comes wisdom and experience. Experience is key in triathlons. It doesn't mean you'll always perform better. But at least you know better. You've been there and done that. When it rains on your run? No biggie. When the current is fierce in the water? Keep swimming and don't look up or fret. Age may bring less muscle mass, bone density and aerobic capacity, but that's where experience steps in. Older and wiser, baby. Shake it off. Better with age.
Another thing I noticed is that the older I get, I'm less concerned with what others think about what I pick to do, how I do something, what I'm eating, or how it looks from the outside. This aging mechanism can be very self serving in triathlons. Eat what works for you, fuels you and tastes good. Dress in what's comfortable and efficient, not in what peer pressure says to wear. Eat my "own food" and let other's do the same. In triathlon training and aging, practicing what works well for you and sticking with it just makes life easier. I won't use the expression, the older you get, the less you care. I look at it like I've become more self confident to be me. Do me. And keep looking ahead and not focused on what those around me are doing. Although I'm certainly happy to take nuggets of information from others, and use it to increase my knowledge. Wisdom is all around the aging community. We should all share it so we can stay relevant in our community and life. The same is true for triathlon training. Staying relevant on what's out there to be more effective and efficient is key.
I've had a goal for sometime now. What if I woke up everyday and ate the same thing for breakfast? Then, did different activities each day, yet the same on certain days of the week. All while wearing the same or similar clothes, and have similar lunches and dinners. Does that sound like older people things? Because it's definitely triathlon training things. Granted, non-attachment is my jam. But I'm still that person that loves repetition.
Getting older certainly has it's ups and downs. The thing is, I'm not all about speed. Mostly about the process of finishing. That's certainly true as a aging adult. It's not how fast I get there. It's that I get there. This weekend, I'm all about the journey. And that's true about aging. It's the journey. I have noted that triathlon training is not like being younger. Carefree, YOLO, willy-nilly, and doing whatever whenever. It's far from that. It mirrors aging: Pick carefully. Be wise. Watch your step. Don't fall. Keep looking forward, and take it one step at a time.
Aging and triathlon training are two remarkably similar phenomenons. I never realized it until recently. Luckily, I'm loving both. And seeing what more my future has in store for me. The good, the bad, and all the secrets awaiting me.
Confession time: Sometimes I'm all about speed. Who am I kidding?
Cyndi
First, the commonality of your body aching is front and center. There's the long swims, with correct form and cadence, that wreck havoc on your arms and shoulders. Almost like you might have been the starting pitcher for The Rangers, and pitched right and left handed the whole game. Your not sure if your shoulders are okay, or if it's the upper deltoid that's sore. It's like aging and getting older, when your muscles are sore for no reason at all. Like a relaxation accident. Something just starts hurting in your body somewhere. I guess with triathlon training, you at least know why. The long bikes and long runs each bring about achy legs and tight hips. Then, sit down after those events and try to get back up, and that's what I'm going to look like at 73 years old. Maybe 71 or 75, but somewhere around there. I'm going to look like I'm training for a triathlon, but the difference is, I'm not. I just walk that way all the time now. Repetitive motion pastimes such as biking and running brings about the tightness I'm going to naturally feel at 70 years old when I wake up. Triathlon training = Feeling like I'm going to feel when I'm 70.
Next up, fatigue. I need more sleep when I'm training. Aging brings about the need for more sleep, as well. Getting older is the time in life when your body is making up for all those years you drove yourself in the ground. Running around, working, taking care of others, and living life hard and fast. Very similar to triathlon training. You are constantly teaching your body to go further and faster, and this makes a body tired. You know what they say, "Go Big or Go Home". I'll think I'll go home, and take a nap when I get there.
Let's get personal. Knee pain. Hip pain. GI upset. Eating too much. Eating the same things over and over. Falling into comfort routines. Doing the same things over and over. Wondering what it's like when you seemed to have time to do other things. Wearing less make up. Intentionally and not caring. Not wanting to go out. The couch feels so good. Tinkling in my shorts - or will do so just about anywhere. Showering less because your just going to get sweaty again. Wearing the same clothes because "their not that dirty". Yep, these are all signs you are training for an Ironman. And. Getting. Old. Why didn't anyone warn me? There was a book on What To Expect When Your Pregnant. It is a week by week book of expectations in regards to the various body changes during pregnancy. Where's my What To Expect When Your Old book?! It should come with a warning label: BEWARE: This is not going to be all rainbows and butterflies.
And then there's the things you can't "see". Hemorrhoids. How does this happen?! Do you know how hard it is to bike with a hemorrhoid? Prep H can be your best friend in times like this. Age brings about these lovely reminders that you need to wipe gently. Careful, don't wake the giant. Ahhh, aging is wonderful. Triathlon training is preparing me for it more and more.
Now the good thing is, with age comes wisdom and experience. Experience is key in triathlons. It doesn't mean you'll always perform better. But at least you know better. You've been there and done that. When it rains on your run? No biggie. When the current is fierce in the water? Keep swimming and don't look up or fret. Age may bring less muscle mass, bone density and aerobic capacity, but that's where experience steps in. Older and wiser, baby. Shake it off. Better with age.
Another thing I noticed is that the older I get, I'm less concerned with what others think about what I pick to do, how I do something, what I'm eating, or how it looks from the outside. This aging mechanism can be very self serving in triathlons. Eat what works for you, fuels you and tastes good. Dress in what's comfortable and efficient, not in what peer pressure says to wear. Eat my "own food" and let other's do the same. In triathlon training and aging, practicing what works well for you and sticking with it just makes life easier. I won't use the expression, the older you get, the less you care. I look at it like I've become more self confident to be me. Do me. And keep looking ahead and not focused on what those around me are doing. Although I'm certainly happy to take nuggets of information from others, and use it to increase my knowledge. Wisdom is all around the aging community. We should all share it so we can stay relevant in our community and life. The same is true for triathlon training. Staying relevant on what's out there to be more effective and efficient is key.
I've had a goal for sometime now. What if I woke up everyday and ate the same thing for breakfast? Then, did different activities each day, yet the same on certain days of the week. All while wearing the same or similar clothes, and have similar lunches and dinners. Does that sound like older people things? Because it's definitely triathlon training things. Granted, non-attachment is my jam. But I'm still that person that loves repetition.
Getting older certainly has it's ups and downs. The thing is, I'm not all about speed. Mostly about the process of finishing. That's certainly true as a aging adult. It's not how fast I get there. It's that I get there. This weekend, I'm all about the journey. And that's true about aging. It's the journey. I have noted that triathlon training is not like being younger. Carefree, YOLO, willy-nilly, and doing whatever whenever. It's far from that. It mirrors aging: Pick carefully. Be wise. Watch your step. Don't fall. Keep looking forward, and take it one step at a time.
Confession time: Sometimes I'm all about speed. Who am I kidding?
Cyndi
Monday, September 17, 2018
With faith
As my triathlon training winds down and the race approaches, I think back to the many miles on the road while preparing. One day in particular crossed my mind recently. It was about 4 weeks ago, while stopping to refuel for my last 15 miles of a long hot bike ride, I stopped in Collinsville at a gas station, whereby I've stopped many times in my life. It's a gas station that is familiar to me, always has what I'm looking for, and most importantly, never seems to be busy. I've been stopping there since I lived in Plano, a number of years ago, while biking back and forth to Lake Texoma. We have a little place there at Lake Texoma, where David may golf, or maybe we go kayak in the cove, or jump in the pool. And as usual, always have an angus burger at the Club House. After all, it’s just off Hwy 377 which is one of my favorite biking routes. And this particular day I was using Hwy 377 as part of my route (although not going to Lake Texoma that day).
Heading out Hwy 377 on my bike is easy to get to, wonderful for high-mileage rides, and grants cyclists a plentiful shoulder, and cars that tolerate bikes well. And off of 377 in Collinsville, is a gas station that provides me a refill on my water, and a Cliff bar - and sometimes fresh bananas. I normally place my bike in front of the store, leaning it up against a wooden bench, in front of the glass windows looking into the store. I go inside, say Hello, and grab what I'm needing. The lady tells me it's too hot to be biking. The man doing the inventory (he always has a clipboard in his hands) says Hello. I think it's a family thing, there. I always say, "I'm almost home", and she tells me to Be Careful! It's a dance we do, and it's always a comfortable and friendly exchange. On this particular visit, I notice a older gentleman looking at my bike out front of the store. He's just standing there looking down at it, inspecting every inch of it. I don't think much of it, and continue my transaction and make my way outside. He's still standing there, in the same position with the same expression on his face, soaking in something about my bike. I walk out and say Hello. Granted, there's only so many cars parked in front of the gas station. After all, it’s never really busy there. That day in particular, I only remember one car parked in front of the store: a older, weather-worn car, parked in the handicap space directly in front of my bike, in front of the store. That's the only car I remember seeing, and I assume it's this gentleman's. I thought he had stopped there, while making his way to his car just in front of my bike. Looking back, it did not all 'match up", as he's dressed in a pressed button-down western shirt, fancy leather suspenders, pressed western jeans with the crease ironed down the front. His teeth were perfectly pearly white and straight, and his white hair exactly in place. I assumed he must have stopped on his way home, and gotten something at the store? But there was nothing in his hands. But as I made my way to my bike, there he stood, to look at this bike randomly placed by a bench, in front of this gas station store that never seems busy.
This gentleman doesn’t move, but continues to stand in front of my bike staring, almost like he was in a trance. My “Hello” hardly causes him to budge. Still staring. I look at him, but he does not look at me. He's about 5'10" with a trim frame., as I inspect him as he inspects my bike. Maybe he bikes, I wonder? I can't figure out what he's thinking. I keep expecting him to turn and make his way into the weather-worn car, but it's like he's frozen in time. Finally, he speaks. "Where are you heading to?' he says. I tell him I'm almost back home to Gunter. As he speaks, he's staring at my bike. He asks me how I'll get back home, and I tell him I'll go just down 377 and turn in Tioga to head towards Gunter on FM 121. He nods. Another awkward silence. Then, as if someone just woke him up, he says he lives in Gunter, too. And, he wants to know why he hasn't seen me there, after all, he's lived there all his life. My guess would be about 72 years. I can't answer his question, and I don't think he believes me that I live in Gunter, so feel compelled to tell him approximately where I live and he nods. Approval granted. He does ask me my name, and he tells me his name is Charles.
I can't figure out why he has stopped at this gas station, and why he's in Collinsville. But I didn't ask either. I start preparing myself to move my bike, and get back on it and ride. He notices my ear phones and asks what I'm listening to. I explain that my primary choice is audio books. He's surprised. But fires right back with a question, "Christian Books?' Well, yes, some. (Actually I only had one Christian book in my audio library at that time) It just so happens I was listening to Present Over Perfect. He even asks me which Christian books, which authors? Okay. I got to go. Maybe he's a Pastor? Maybe he just went to church? All I know is I just want to finish up my ride. It's hotter than heck outside, and the sun is a ball of fire. I politely tell him maybe I'll see him around Gunter, and he finally takes a step back. I was never really uncomfortable in his presence. He was just in no hurry, and hypnotized by the bike. It's nothing fancy, mind you. Maybe he was curious.
I don't think too much more about it. Matter of fact, I forget about the exchange, because I'm tired, hot and ready to be home. And there I am, biking down FM 121, about 5 miles from my house. The road is quiet, as it's a Sunday and there's not much traffic on it. As I'm riding, I feel a car pull up beside me and slow down to my speed. I look to my left and guess who it is?! Smiling his big smile of shiny white teeth at me, is Charles. But he's not in that beater car. He's in a fancy Corvette, all clean and shiny like him. He even has driving gloves on. I swear I did not see that car at the gas station. He drives along side me, rolls down his window, and only for a moment he says Hello! I'm so surprised, that I'm speechless, and not sure how to have a conversation like this. But before I can make any decision on what to say, he's saying Bye and drives away as fast as he had pulled up beside me. And then he was gone. Fast fast. Gone.
What just happened? I'm still not able to put all those pieces of the puzzle together for that encounter. I meet a lot of people while out biking and running, but that was unusual. Nothing about it all made sense to me, because there was not order to it all. Looking back, maybe I was the one in a trance?
What's most interesting about it all was the outcome of this encounter. Not only did I finish the book Present Over Perfect, by Shauna Niequist, but I went on to listen to How's Your Soul, by Judah Smith and another book, Everybody Always, by Bob Goff. All Christian books - all themed similarly. How's Your Soul focuses on not asking other's 'How Are You?', but instead, 'How's Your Soul?' Shauna Niequist states in her book: What kills a soul? Exhaustion, secret keeping, image management. And what brings a soul back from the dead? Honesty, connection, and grace. Everybody Always is a bit more challenging of a book, as it calls us to love the "creepy people" who are hard to love, as God did. It's almost like Charles was placed in my path that fateful day, to shed light on the topic of Christian books. Granted, I listen primarily to non-fiction. Yet, after the "meeting of Charles", I was blessed with the gift of enlightenment to a genre I had not fully explored. I've dabbled in faith books, but now, I was drawn to them. I've listened to How's Your Soul twice, and plan on a third listen, too.
I'm still amazed at these types of "meetings" with random people in this world.
You know, I've never seen Charles again. And Gunter is a small town - I would recognize his car. I think Charles was dropped down into that gas station to tell me something. And he did. Lucky for me, I was able to hear his message, and appreciate that one sentence: "Do you listen to Christian books?"
Time and time again I have events whereby I meet people who I find fascinating, and then never see them again. That time in Collinsville was a God event. I'm convinced. And the drive-by in the Corvette? Maybe that was a message. Sometimes it takes time and thought to figure out God's messages.
With faith,
Cyndi
Heading out Hwy 377 on my bike is easy to get to, wonderful for high-mileage rides, and grants cyclists a plentiful shoulder, and cars that tolerate bikes well. And off of 377 in Collinsville, is a gas station that provides me a refill on my water, and a Cliff bar - and sometimes fresh bananas. I normally place my bike in front of the store, leaning it up against a wooden bench, in front of the glass windows looking into the store. I go inside, say Hello, and grab what I'm needing. The lady tells me it's too hot to be biking. The man doing the inventory (he always has a clipboard in his hands) says Hello. I think it's a family thing, there. I always say, "I'm almost home", and she tells me to Be Careful! It's a dance we do, and it's always a comfortable and friendly exchange. On this particular visit, I notice a older gentleman looking at my bike out front of the store. He's just standing there looking down at it, inspecting every inch of it. I don't think much of it, and continue my transaction and make my way outside. He's still standing there, in the same position with the same expression on his face, soaking in something about my bike. I walk out and say Hello. Granted, there's only so many cars parked in front of the gas station. After all, it’s never really busy there. That day in particular, I only remember one car parked in front of the store: a older, weather-worn car, parked in the handicap space directly in front of my bike, in front of the store. That's the only car I remember seeing, and I assume it's this gentleman's. I thought he had stopped there, while making his way to his car just in front of my bike. Looking back, it did not all 'match up", as he's dressed in a pressed button-down western shirt, fancy leather suspenders, pressed western jeans with the crease ironed down the front. His teeth were perfectly pearly white and straight, and his white hair exactly in place. I assumed he must have stopped on his way home, and gotten something at the store? But there was nothing in his hands. But as I made my way to my bike, there he stood, to look at this bike randomly placed by a bench, in front of this gas station store that never seems busy.
This gentleman doesn’t move, but continues to stand in front of my bike staring, almost like he was in a trance. My “Hello” hardly causes him to budge. Still staring. I look at him, but he does not look at me. He's about 5'10" with a trim frame., as I inspect him as he inspects my bike. Maybe he bikes, I wonder? I can't figure out what he's thinking. I keep expecting him to turn and make his way into the weather-worn car, but it's like he's frozen in time. Finally, he speaks. "Where are you heading to?' he says. I tell him I'm almost back home to Gunter. As he speaks, he's staring at my bike. He asks me how I'll get back home, and I tell him I'll go just down 377 and turn in Tioga to head towards Gunter on FM 121. He nods. Another awkward silence. Then, as if someone just woke him up, he says he lives in Gunter, too. And, he wants to know why he hasn't seen me there, after all, he's lived there all his life. My guess would be about 72 years. I can't answer his question, and I don't think he believes me that I live in Gunter, so feel compelled to tell him approximately where I live and he nods. Approval granted. He does ask me my name, and he tells me his name is Charles.
I can't figure out why he has stopped at this gas station, and why he's in Collinsville. But I didn't ask either. I start preparing myself to move my bike, and get back on it and ride. He notices my ear phones and asks what I'm listening to. I explain that my primary choice is audio books. He's surprised. But fires right back with a question, "Christian Books?' Well, yes, some. (Actually I only had one Christian book in my audio library at that time) It just so happens I was listening to Present Over Perfect. He even asks me which Christian books, which authors? Okay. I got to go. Maybe he's a Pastor? Maybe he just went to church? All I know is I just want to finish up my ride. It's hotter than heck outside, and the sun is a ball of fire. I politely tell him maybe I'll see him around Gunter, and he finally takes a step back. I was never really uncomfortable in his presence. He was just in no hurry, and hypnotized by the bike. It's nothing fancy, mind you. Maybe he was curious.
I don't think too much more about it. Matter of fact, I forget about the exchange, because I'm tired, hot and ready to be home. And there I am, biking down FM 121, about 5 miles from my house. The road is quiet, as it's a Sunday and there's not much traffic on it. As I'm riding, I feel a car pull up beside me and slow down to my speed. I look to my left and guess who it is?! Smiling his big smile of shiny white teeth at me, is Charles. But he's not in that beater car. He's in a fancy Corvette, all clean and shiny like him. He even has driving gloves on. I swear I did not see that car at the gas station. He drives along side me, rolls down his window, and only for a moment he says Hello! I'm so surprised, that I'm speechless, and not sure how to have a conversation like this. But before I can make any decision on what to say, he's saying Bye and drives away as fast as he had pulled up beside me. And then he was gone. Fast fast. Gone.
What just happened? I'm still not able to put all those pieces of the puzzle together for that encounter. I meet a lot of people while out biking and running, but that was unusual. Nothing about it all made sense to me, because there was not order to it all. Looking back, maybe I was the one in a trance?
What's most interesting about it all was the outcome of this encounter. Not only did I finish the book Present Over Perfect, by Shauna Niequist, but I went on to listen to How's Your Soul, by Judah Smith and another book, Everybody Always, by Bob Goff. All Christian books - all themed similarly. How's Your Soul focuses on not asking other's 'How Are You?', but instead, 'How's Your Soul?' Shauna Niequist states in her book: What kills a soul? Exhaustion, secret keeping, image management. And what brings a soul back from the dead? Honesty, connection, and grace. Everybody Always is a bit more challenging of a book, as it calls us to love the "creepy people" who are hard to love, as God did. It's almost like Charles was placed in my path that fateful day, to shed light on the topic of Christian books. Granted, I listen primarily to non-fiction. Yet, after the "meeting of Charles", I was blessed with the gift of enlightenment to a genre I had not fully explored. I've dabbled in faith books, but now, I was drawn to them. I've listened to How's Your Soul twice, and plan on a third listen, too.
I'm still amazed at these types of "meetings" with random people in this world.
You know, I've never seen Charles again. And Gunter is a small town - I would recognize his car. I think Charles was dropped down into that gas station to tell me something. And he did. Lucky for me, I was able to hear his message, and appreciate that one sentence: "Do you listen to Christian books?"
Time and time again I have events whereby I meet people who I find fascinating, and then never see them again. That time in Collinsville was a God event. I'm convinced. And the drive-by in the Corvette? Maybe that was a message. Sometimes it takes time and thought to figure out God's messages.
With faith,
Cyndi
Tuesday, September 4, 2018
Still working on mindfulness
As life-happening’s are all around me, I am continually reminded of the need to be mindful of my surroundings. Mindful. It’s so hard. I’m mindless a lot of the time. I crave mindlessness to escape reality. Last week, I tried practicing mindfulness through a myriad of life-happenings. I really do have to practice it, as it’s not a natural thing for me on a regular basis. Life-happenings definition: Day to day things/activities that give me one more reason to think hibernation is a good idea.
A roof installation went down (well, technically, up) last week, and went a bit astray. I will need corrections made this week, and the outcome is still to be determined. The idea that rain is coming made me a bit weary. The Internet/Wi-Fi and DIRECTV dishes could not be put back in their places, and it’s been a week without. [Insert big sigh here]. Not to mention it’s going to be a while longer before the dishes can be placed again. Then, a farm visit to assess our Great Pyrenees dogs leg/hip pain. And Lauren‘s birthday that did not bring celebration satisfaction to fruition, are all only minor hiccups in life last week.
As my own life-happenings are occurring, I’m very aware that they are not problems, but life swirling around me. The “old me” would complain, spiral and maybe even meltdown over things that were not critical. Luckily, I don’t recognize that person anymore. Thank goodness. David gently reminded me that after I had Lauren, that “nervous moms make nervous babies”. I’ll never forget that. I was high-strung in life, and wearing myself out. I was impatient, ego-centric, selfish and self-serving. I was struggling due to my own demise, my own inflictions, and a general lack of knowledge. I created my own drama, even there really wasn’t any. (My poor parents. There was three of us girls constantly beating up on them. Not intentionally, anyway.)
I knew I had to make a change, and I eventually did. To begin to work on myself, educate myself and find a better self who could live calmly, sweetly and with contentment. No matter what life-happenings were occurring, I would need to change my vantage point, perception and cultivate awareness. When I first discovered this thing called mindfulness, I realized what it was like to be in the moment. It took a long, long time to understand this concept, as simple as it is. I begin to think about how my actions affected others. To think about my own thoughts carefully, pick my words, then speak. (That’s a work in progress).
As this past week unfolded into uncertainty, I found myself thinking about it with more clarity and understanding. The mindless chatter in my brain crept in. Oh yes it did. But I can recognize it now, and make note of it when it arises. I’m able to shut it down quicker and more productively, to allow the mindful thinking to be present.
Ironically, for the second time, many of my training miles lately have been listening to The Great Course of Practicing Mindfulness. Love this book! I love the professor who wrote it, and also who reads it. It’s music to my ears when I turn it on. I learn something new every time I hear it. It’s actually subtitled An Introduction To Meditation, but it focuses on mindfulness, meditation and to recognize when one is being mindless. [Insert big bell ringing in my head, on that note.]
Meditation is another thing. I’ve seen those magazines showing classically yoga-clad women, sitting crosslegged with impeccable make up and hair. They look happy and content. Did they just meditate? My worst fear in regards to meditation is that I won’t do it right, or reach deep spiritual revelations, or know what the heck I’m doing - and certainly not look like those women on the magazine covers who appear to represent yoga and meditation. Most books I’ve read about meditation made it seem too complex, exotic or out of reach. The Great Courses book, Practicing Mindfulness helped me to understand I don’t need to don special clothing, shave my head, be a monk, have a specific religion or adopt a Tibetan name to meditate. I just need to be able to sit quietly, eyes closed, breathe, and quiet my monkey mind. When my mind starts to chatter, I need to recognize it, and quiet my mind again. Eventually I became aware of my mindless chatter and learned to point it out to myself, and realign my quiet mind again. For me it’s practice, practice, practice. I can do it just about anywhere really, when I have a few minutes of time to myself. I’ll listen to myself breathe, and go into a quiet mind place. It’s always very calming. Life-happenings are nonstop for everyone. I used last week as a practice of mindfulness. I did well a lot of the time, then tended to slip back into my old ways that would make me feel icky and chaotic inside. But mostly, I was just happy that I was recognizing the need to keep moving toward my better self, because I’m not sure I’ll ever reach my best life or best self. I do keep trying, moving forward, then backward again. And going backwards is a fabulous maneuver, so that I can move forward again. I’ve noticed that my quiet mind makes for a calm heart. I’m grateful for these times I’m given to practice handling life situations. I ebb and flow through them.
Thank goodness for The Great Courses series. I’ve listened to so many of them on audio books, I should have another college degree. It’s like taking a college course, for free.99. Almost free anyway.
This particular book, Practicing Mindfulness has touched my soul. It’s brought me to a place where I can recognize my actions. Wouldn’t that be great if that was a class in High School?!
Life lesson learned this past week? Life without WiFi is like pie without whipped cream. It’s still really good, and you could easily get used to it. But I really like whipped cream. And WiFi.
Cyndi
BTW, Lolo, is the ebb in “ebb and flow” the good part, or is the flow the good part?
A roof installation went down (well, technically, up) last week, and went a bit astray. I will need corrections made this week, and the outcome is still to be determined. The idea that rain is coming made me a bit weary. The Internet/Wi-Fi and DIRECTV dishes could not be put back in their places, and it’s been a week without. [Insert big sigh here]. Not to mention it’s going to be a while longer before the dishes can be placed again. Then, a farm visit to assess our Great Pyrenees dogs leg/hip pain. And Lauren‘s birthday that did not bring celebration satisfaction to fruition, are all only minor hiccups in life last week.
As my own life-happenings are occurring, I’m very aware that they are not problems, but life swirling around me. The “old me” would complain, spiral and maybe even meltdown over things that were not critical. Luckily, I don’t recognize that person anymore. Thank goodness. David gently reminded me that after I had Lauren, that “nervous moms make nervous babies”. I’ll never forget that. I was high-strung in life, and wearing myself out. I was impatient, ego-centric, selfish and self-serving. I was struggling due to my own demise, my own inflictions, and a general lack of knowledge. I created my own drama, even there really wasn’t any. (My poor parents. There was three of us girls constantly beating up on them. Not intentionally, anyway.)
I knew I had to make a change, and I eventually did. To begin to work on myself, educate myself and find a better self who could live calmly, sweetly and with contentment. No matter what life-happenings were occurring, I would need to change my vantage point, perception and cultivate awareness. When I first discovered this thing called mindfulness, I realized what it was like to be in the moment. It took a long, long time to understand this concept, as simple as it is. I begin to think about how my actions affected others. To think about my own thoughts carefully, pick my words, then speak. (That’s a work in progress).
As this past week unfolded into uncertainty, I found myself thinking about it with more clarity and understanding. The mindless chatter in my brain crept in. Oh yes it did. But I can recognize it now, and make note of it when it arises. I’m able to shut it down quicker and more productively, to allow the mindful thinking to be present.
Ironically, for the second time, many of my training miles lately have been listening to The Great Course of Practicing Mindfulness. Love this book! I love the professor who wrote it, and also who reads it. It’s music to my ears when I turn it on. I learn something new every time I hear it. It’s actually subtitled An Introduction To Meditation, but it focuses on mindfulness, meditation and to recognize when one is being mindless. [Insert big bell ringing in my head, on that note.]
Meditation is another thing. I’ve seen those magazines showing classically yoga-clad women, sitting crosslegged with impeccable make up and hair. They look happy and content. Did they just meditate? My worst fear in regards to meditation is that I won’t do it right, or reach deep spiritual revelations, or know what the heck I’m doing - and certainly not look like those women on the magazine covers who appear to represent yoga and meditation. Most books I’ve read about meditation made it seem too complex, exotic or out of reach. The Great Courses book, Practicing Mindfulness helped me to understand I don’t need to don special clothing, shave my head, be a monk, have a specific religion or adopt a Tibetan name to meditate. I just need to be able to sit quietly, eyes closed, breathe, and quiet my monkey mind. When my mind starts to chatter, I need to recognize it, and quiet my mind again. Eventually I became aware of my mindless chatter and learned to point it out to myself, and realign my quiet mind again. For me it’s practice, practice, practice. I can do it just about anywhere really, when I have a few minutes of time to myself. I’ll listen to myself breathe, and go into a quiet mind place. It’s always very calming. Life-happenings are nonstop for everyone. I used last week as a practice of mindfulness. I did well a lot of the time, then tended to slip back into my old ways that would make me feel icky and chaotic inside. But mostly, I was just happy that I was recognizing the need to keep moving toward my better self, because I’m not sure I’ll ever reach my best life or best self. I do keep trying, moving forward, then backward again. And going backwards is a fabulous maneuver, so that I can move forward again. I’ve noticed that my quiet mind makes for a calm heart. I’m grateful for these times I’m given to practice handling life situations. I ebb and flow through them.
Thank goodness for The Great Courses series. I’ve listened to so many of them on audio books, I should have another college degree. It’s like taking a college course, for free.99. Almost free anyway.
This particular book, Practicing Mindfulness has touched my soul. It’s brought me to a place where I can recognize my actions. Wouldn’t that be great if that was a class in High School?!
Life lesson learned this past week? Life without WiFi is like pie without whipped cream. It’s still really good, and you could easily get used to it. But I really like whipped cream. And WiFi.
Cyndi
BTW, Lolo, is the ebb in “ebb and flow” the good part, or is the flow the good part?
Wednesday, August 22, 2018
Sam and his horns
This may very well be considered part two, as a follow up to Sam’s horn dilemma. My internal panic, frantic and general unrest is resolving. After two days of bleeding and oozing, Sam’s right horn has finally coagulated. Finally. I did end up talking to the vet, and turns out that they occasionally make a farm visit for goats and sheep who knock their horns off, and need assistance with the continued bleeding. But not Sam. At least for now, he’s healing himself. It was nice to know there was help if I were to have needed it. As I went to the barn tonight to check Sam, I noticed he's began bleeding a tiny bit again, but not like it was. He has the trajectory of his front right leg to reach up and take his hard ole dirty hoof, and scratch that exact area on his head. This healing process will take time. I must say, that reading about what others have done in regards to this type of situation has been interesting. I never knew that rams and goats even knocked their horns off, intentionally. And to top that off, my dogs all argue over who gets to chew on that silly horn. I didn't end up calling Jerry, The Sheep Shearer, although I seriously considered it. He's a good resource of everything sheep. I'll keep that in my back pocket for now.
So now that I know Sam will live (again) and not die a slow bleeding death, I've recently taken note of my ewes. I've heard tales of September being noted as a time of which to watch for your ewes to go into heat. What are signs of this? Actions like raising their tails, shaking their booty (their milkshake brings all the rams to the yard), and general acceptance of the ram in their close proximity. What I've also learned is that if your ram runs with your flock year round, then nature will take it's natural course and there is no set target date for breeding. In addition to this, sheep are photosensitive meaning that reproductive activity is affected by the length of daylight. Ewes all go into heat and are capable of breeding during these seasons of "heat", which could be based on their breed or environment, or many other factors. So only time will tell if - and when - we may have lambs in our future.
The amount of daylight and how it affects animals is intriguing to me. Chickens lay eggs based on several factors, with the main one being the amount of daylight in a given day. The more daylight, the more eggs they lay. A cloudy day will yield less eggs that day. And now, I learn the sheep's reproductive process is affected by the amount of daylight. That's just a teeny-tiny example of how daylight affects life in general. But the fact I can see it's impact on a daily basis, on a farm, never ceases to amaze me.
Back to Belle and Eve, my two sweet ewes. I noticed this past weekend that Eve's teets/nipples are becoming enlarged, at least more so than usual. Yet, Belle's nipples are about the same. They both have begun to be more tolerant of Sam as well. It's very simple actions that show their intentions. I can't say for sure yet, as the growth of a pregnant ewe is greatest the last 1 1/2 month. They go from looking like big girls to looking lopsided, as if they have a small basketball attached to their sides. I've watched way too many YouTubes with people who try to tell you how to tell if your ewe is pregnant. All I take away from them is a fondness for seeing other people who love their sheep like I do. I don't seem to get any real data. These people make it more like a "feeling" that this ewe, or that ewe, is pregnant. Until the last month or two - then you can tell. I'd like to know now. Is there no pregnancy test stick they can tinkle on to tell me. Or is there? I may need to check on that.
For now, my prediction is Eve is pregnant and Belle is not. Only time will tell in order for me to confirm this. Gestation for sheep is 5 months, so by Christmas, we will know for sure by the way they look. I'm not sure whose more excited, me or David. We look forward to the opportunity to have more sheep, grow our flock and enjoy the beauty of those precious lambs.
Any name suggestions?
Cyndi
So now that I know Sam will live (again) and not die a slow bleeding death, I've recently taken note of my ewes. I've heard tales of September being noted as a time of which to watch for your ewes to go into heat. What are signs of this? Actions like raising their tails, shaking their booty (their milkshake brings all the rams to the yard), and general acceptance of the ram in their close proximity. What I've also learned is that if your ram runs with your flock year round, then nature will take it's natural course and there is no set target date for breeding. In addition to this, sheep are photosensitive meaning that reproductive activity is affected by the length of daylight. Ewes all go into heat and are capable of breeding during these seasons of "heat", which could be based on their breed or environment, or many other factors. So only time will tell if - and when - we may have lambs in our future.
The amount of daylight and how it affects animals is intriguing to me. Chickens lay eggs based on several factors, with the main one being the amount of daylight in a given day. The more daylight, the more eggs they lay. A cloudy day will yield less eggs that day. And now, I learn the sheep's reproductive process is affected by the amount of daylight. That's just a teeny-tiny example of how daylight affects life in general. But the fact I can see it's impact on a daily basis, on a farm, never ceases to amaze me.
Back to Belle and Eve, my two sweet ewes. I noticed this past weekend that Eve's teets/nipples are becoming enlarged, at least more so than usual. Yet, Belle's nipples are about the same. They both have begun to be more tolerant of Sam as well. It's very simple actions that show their intentions. I can't say for sure yet, as the growth of a pregnant ewe is greatest the last 1 1/2 month. They go from looking like big girls to looking lopsided, as if they have a small basketball attached to their sides. I've watched way too many YouTubes with people who try to tell you how to tell if your ewe is pregnant. All I take away from them is a fondness for seeing other people who love their sheep like I do. I don't seem to get any real data. These people make it more like a "feeling" that this ewe, or that ewe, is pregnant. Until the last month or two - then you can tell. I'd like to know now. Is there no pregnancy test stick they can tinkle on to tell me. Or is there? I may need to check on that.
For now, my prediction is Eve is pregnant and Belle is not. Only time will tell in order for me to confirm this. Gestation for sheep is 5 months, so by Christmas, we will know for sure by the way they look. I'm not sure whose more excited, me or David. We look forward to the opportunity to have more sheep, grow our flock and enjoy the beauty of those precious lambs.
Any name suggestions?
Cyndi
Sunday, August 19, 2018
Shepherdess Situations
One thing I've always known in my own mind, but rarely shared, is my comfort level in the places I've lived in my life. When David and I bought our first house in Allen back in 1992, there was not much there but a Sonic, in the then-small town of Allen. I knew one thing for sure. It was my house I lived in, but I'm not sure it ever felt like home. It was very nice and everything around me was good. But the day we moved out, I was really happy. It wasn't home for me. We lived in two others homes after that, before we made our way to Gunter, and they were much better, as if I was making my way to where I was supposed to be. I can remember going into Tractor Supply a time or two, during those years I lived in a regular suburbia neighborhood. I really don't know why I would have gone into Tractor Supply at that time, as it seemed more like a Field Trip than a shopping trip. I always felt like I should be shopping there, but I had no need for much of their selection like farm animal food, big mowers and "country" things that I had no idea what you might do with it. All I knew is I liked going there. Kind of like some people like the smell of Home Depot. I liked the smell of Tractor Supply, but always left empty-handed. Little did I know....
As I made my way toward a more authentic life for me, I landed in Gunter and still can't fully explain how it all happened. It was a God thing. An unexpected farmer, of sorts, would be my (much desired) destiny. It may not be a working farm, making profit and selling products, but a hobby farm - with much similar work that keeps it running and functioning. Since the barn is not self-cleaning and the farm animals need things, it's much the same type of work, but on a smaller scale. And it's what I enjoy doing. What I didn't expect was all the unexpected things that would happen, particularly to either the chickens, barn cats, donkeys, sheep or dogs. When "surprise" things started occurring, for whatever reason (call it farm naiveness), I was always surprised. The swarm of bees taking up homestead on the side of our house, the hundreds and wasps living in our chimney and coming into the house, possums in the barn, dead skunks in the pasture. You get the idea. They were new-to-me things. But that's been awhile now, and new things have happened. I've had chicken illnesses, pasture management changes, fencing situations, predator problems (like hawks) with my sweet chickens, and one-day-old lamb crisis. I've had Great Pyrenees vet visits, new barn cats (technically, inside cats people no longer want to have) given to us - which by the way have ALL been awesome, wonderful cats. Our cat community is the best around.
I'll stop here and just say that when I step out my front door to go to the barn, as I walk to the barn, this feeling of "wonder what I'll find/see/hear today". Really, every time. When I step in the barn and see everyone is okay, it's a relief. Every time. My eyes automatically scan the pastures, the barn, the animals, counting them, checking for them, and processing the status of them all. It's like a ritual. And when I let my guard down, that's when it seems I'm surprised by something.
Today, my guard was down. It was dawn, and I was in my running attire, and my mind on my running route and milage. I went to the barn to feed, turned one light on (not all of them as usual - I would just be in and out real quick-like) and noticed the wind had blown the sheep's feeders about. I opened the door to their pen, and as usual, place my hand down on Sam's head, to hold Sam the Ram from ramming me. He doesn't get crazy with that ramming thing, but he does show his dominance over "his" ewes. I placed my hand on his head, and in the dim light I felt wetness. What is on his head?!? I didn't feel his horns. As I looked closely, fresh, bright red blood is dripping down his face, particularly on his right side. His horn was completely gone, and the one on the left side was broken off. What the heck?! There's blood everywhere. On their feeders, on the ewes, but mostly dripping down, just next to his eye. I want to scream for David, but I know he's still asleep. I'm stunned - and as usual - surprised. Did something try to hurt him in the night? Did he get his horns stuck on something, like fencing? How do you pull or knock horns off a sheep?! Did he do it to himself? I almost wanted to ask Levi and Whisper, my grand guard dogs, "How did you let this happen?" I'm so confused, I need to wash my hands, I need to help Sam, I need to get David, I need to go out on my run, I need to know what happened, I need....I need....I need.
This is what it's like. My little life. Kind of like the time I thought Sam had the bloat and we would need to put him down. Well, now he's got an artery spitting out blood at who knows what time in the morning. Can I call the Vet? Should I? I step back out of the sheep pen in the barn, and call Sam outside (with treats, of course), and cox him into his special pen we have outside the barn. (Where we put him when people come to visit so they won't have to deal with ram behavior). I lock him in his spot, and then back to the barn to feed and think about what to do about all this business. Oh my goodness, why? Why today? But I say that every time I'm surprised.
Belle and Eve enjoy their moment of luxury and take their time eating while Sam is locked in his pen. I finish feeding everyone and go back into the house to wash my hands. Then, I hear David, upstairs moving about. I yell upstairs to him - something to the effect of Guess What!? Something's happened to Sam! All the while getting on my Mac to Google "Ram loses horns". Is this normal? How did I not know this? Turns out, according to Google, it happens, and people like me are all over the internet asking what to do - and if their ram will be okay. Will the bleeding stop on it's own?
Turns out, rams will knock their horns off by themselves. No reason was given for this behavior, so I will need to check my "Raising Sheep" book on that one. I have many questions like will the horns grow back (people on the web say they will, but that the ram is likely to knock them off again). I do not understand what is happening. How have I had sheep and not know these things. I may need to call Jerry the Sheep Shearer as he knows everything. But not on Sunday.
It's now Sunday evening, and Sam's missing horn spot is still oozy and attracting flies. Flystrike is a thing I apparently need to be most worried about in regards to this situation. We sprayed his head with our fly repellent (we use on the sheep and donkeys). The horn that is only broken off seems stable. But the one that actually came off/out is not looking good. The internet says it will "look worse than it really is". That's like telling a new mom her little baby is going to be just fine, after the child just fell into the coffee table.
I know this blog is Part I or a two part series. There's no good answer tonight, and Sam is not okay, in my book anyway. I'll call the Vet tomorrow, Google it a little more, and figure out what to do to keep the flies off. David is cool as a cucumber. I'm more like a mild jalapeño. Just a little spicy and sweaty about it.
I did get my run done today. We did chain saw (well, David did) a tree that had fallen in a recent storm, and made a burn pile that could heat the whole town of Gunter. But what I didn't do was fix Sam. I don't even know if I can. Tomorrow, I will, because I'm a Shepherdess in a quandary. I'll need to gather a professional opinion - and maybe have a Farm Visit by the Vet.
Tomorrow is a new day. I have a feeling more surprises are coming my way.
Stay tuned,
Cyndi
As I made my way toward a more authentic life for me, I landed in Gunter and still can't fully explain how it all happened. It was a God thing. An unexpected farmer, of sorts, would be my (much desired) destiny. It may not be a working farm, making profit and selling products, but a hobby farm - with much similar work that keeps it running and functioning. Since the barn is not self-cleaning and the farm animals need things, it's much the same type of work, but on a smaller scale. And it's what I enjoy doing. What I didn't expect was all the unexpected things that would happen, particularly to either the chickens, barn cats, donkeys, sheep or dogs. When "surprise" things started occurring, for whatever reason (call it farm naiveness), I was always surprised. The swarm of bees taking up homestead on the side of our house, the hundreds and wasps living in our chimney and coming into the house, possums in the barn, dead skunks in the pasture. You get the idea. They were new-to-me things. But that's been awhile now, and new things have happened. I've had chicken illnesses, pasture management changes, fencing situations, predator problems (like hawks) with my sweet chickens, and one-day-old lamb crisis. I've had Great Pyrenees vet visits, new barn cats (technically, inside cats people no longer want to have) given to us - which by the way have ALL been awesome, wonderful cats. Our cat community is the best around.
I'll stop here and just say that when I step out my front door to go to the barn, as I walk to the barn, this feeling of "wonder what I'll find/see/hear today". Really, every time. When I step in the barn and see everyone is okay, it's a relief. Every time. My eyes automatically scan the pastures, the barn, the animals, counting them, checking for them, and processing the status of them all. It's like a ritual. And when I let my guard down, that's when it seems I'm surprised by something.
Today, my guard was down. It was dawn, and I was in my running attire, and my mind on my running route and milage. I went to the barn to feed, turned one light on (not all of them as usual - I would just be in and out real quick-like) and noticed the wind had blown the sheep's feeders about. I opened the door to their pen, and as usual, place my hand down on Sam's head, to hold Sam the Ram from ramming me. He doesn't get crazy with that ramming thing, but he does show his dominance over "his" ewes. I placed my hand on his head, and in the dim light I felt wetness. What is on his head?!? I didn't feel his horns. As I looked closely, fresh, bright red blood is dripping down his face, particularly on his right side. His horn was completely gone, and the one on the left side was broken off. What the heck?! There's blood everywhere. On their feeders, on the ewes, but mostly dripping down, just next to his eye. I want to scream for David, but I know he's still asleep. I'm stunned - and as usual - surprised. Did something try to hurt him in the night? Did he get his horns stuck on something, like fencing? How do you pull or knock horns off a sheep?! Did he do it to himself? I almost wanted to ask Levi and Whisper, my grand guard dogs, "How did you let this happen?" I'm so confused, I need to wash my hands, I need to help Sam, I need to get David, I need to go out on my run, I need to know what happened, I need....I need....I need.
This is what it's like. My little life. Kind of like the time I thought Sam had the bloat and we would need to put him down. Well, now he's got an artery spitting out blood at who knows what time in the morning. Can I call the Vet? Should I? I step back out of the sheep pen in the barn, and call Sam outside (with treats, of course), and cox him into his special pen we have outside the barn. (Where we put him when people come to visit so they won't have to deal with ram behavior). I lock him in his spot, and then back to the barn to feed and think about what to do about all this business. Oh my goodness, why? Why today? But I say that every time I'm surprised.
Belle and Eve enjoy their moment of luxury and take their time eating while Sam is locked in his pen. I finish feeding everyone and go back into the house to wash my hands. Then, I hear David, upstairs moving about. I yell upstairs to him - something to the effect of Guess What!? Something's happened to Sam! All the while getting on my Mac to Google "Ram loses horns". Is this normal? How did I not know this? Turns out, according to Google, it happens, and people like me are all over the internet asking what to do - and if their ram will be okay. Will the bleeding stop on it's own?
Turns out, rams will knock their horns off by themselves. No reason was given for this behavior, so I will need to check my "Raising Sheep" book on that one. I have many questions like will the horns grow back (people on the web say they will, but that the ram is likely to knock them off again). I do not understand what is happening. How have I had sheep and not know these things. I may need to call Jerry the Sheep Shearer as he knows everything. But not on Sunday.
It's now Sunday evening, and Sam's missing horn spot is still oozy and attracting flies. Flystrike is a thing I apparently need to be most worried about in regards to this situation. We sprayed his head with our fly repellent (we use on the sheep and donkeys). The horn that is only broken off seems stable. But the one that actually came off/out is not looking good. The internet says it will "look worse than it really is". That's like telling a new mom her little baby is going to be just fine, after the child just fell into the coffee table.
I know this blog is Part I or a two part series. There's no good answer tonight, and Sam is not okay, in my book anyway. I'll call the Vet tomorrow, Google it a little more, and figure out what to do to keep the flies off. David is cool as a cucumber. I'm more like a mild jalapeño. Just a little spicy and sweaty about it.
I did get my run done today. We did chain saw (well, David did) a tree that had fallen in a recent storm, and made a burn pile that could heat the whole town of Gunter. But what I didn't do was fix Sam. I don't even know if I can. Tomorrow, I will, because I'm a Shepherdess in a quandary. I'll need to gather a professional opinion - and maybe have a Farm Visit by the Vet.
Tomorrow is a new day. I have a feeling more surprises are coming my way.
Stay tuned,
Cyndi
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