Why Sheep need Shepherds...

A sheep will be a sheep;

that's all there is to it.

So while it might be a little disappointing to find the patriarch

of our flock in this predicament, it's not all that surprising...

Well, hey - Woolly smelled some yummy chicken feed,

and there was nothing else to be done.

As you can see, it backfired for the poor guy.

The rest of the herd ran from him like he was some

terrible monster. Pretty funny.

The best part had to be his "amplified" bleating for help...

Good thing we noticed though...

he would've been mighty thirsty after awhile.

And we are like Sheep...

Where would we be without our Shepherd?

a visual explanation

I haven't been the best blogger of late,

because life has been keeping me busy.

I thought you all might enjoy a brief explanation,

in photo form.

Potatoes, Cabbage, and Sage. A happy trio.

First off, the garden.

A few short months ago, all that existed of our new

garden area were some sketches on paper, great ideas from friends,

 and lots of dreams in our heads. 

The whole process of building, filling, planting,

and general moving, transplanting, and landscaping -

has been a lot of hard work.

As we continue to shift the focal point off of our previous house

and begin arranging a new garden etc. based on our new home.

It's going to be completely worth it though.

I love being outside, so no complaints here! :)

Here's a little section of my herb garden that I just finished

building (using bricks from the 100 year old school house down

the road that is in the process of falling down.)

I'll have to get a photo of the whole area once it's finished.

Then there are always the animals.

You've seen the sheep plenty, but wow -

my little chickies have grown up since their last blog appearance.

One of our little meat birds. They grow so, so fast.

Those chickens have been quite the little project.

Moving them around, and keeping them confined is 

almost a full time job.

I'm trying to do a better job of keeping these tame,

(just less flighty and easier to manage.)

As a result of a long list of circumstances,

a bunch of them were loose and running around last night

just as it was starting to get dark.

(The cute little things don't like the dark, so most of 

them came running to me. :)

I finally had the last two in my arms and on their way

back to their house (running from mosquitoes)

and one crazy little hen bit me; and would not let go.

Since my arms were full of chickens, 

there wasn't much to be done about it.

Lovely little beak mark on my arm...

Makes me wonder if all of that taming and

classical music business did them any good at all... 

I'm feeling very betrayed at the moment.

Chickens. 

That's about it for now.

The rain is taking a break around here,

and we're taking advantage.

I've been snapping pictures like crazy though,

so there are bound to be more posts soon.

Have a great weekend!

Gerald the Babysitter

Gerald;

That would be the big guy in the middle.

Don't ask me how he got such a title, 

it was one of those things that just seemed meant to be...

it fell out of my mouth one day in his direction.

"Gerald"...

(The dark sheep to the right is Gerald's sister too.)

And...

for reasons unknown to the human among us -

the eight of his tiniest half-siblings...

(who might as well be octuplets -

they were born to four different mothers in just three days!)

well, they are pretty crazy about Gerald.

You might even say they pester him.

A lot.

Napping in peace is part of Gerald's past.
(Hey, at least they weren't tap dancing on his back at the moment.)

I wish I had gotten more photos when they were itty-bitty,

but our little lamb set is still pretty cute.

 Does it look like we might have enough?

Gerald thinks so too.

Enough sheep pics?

Ha. I've got plenty more where these came from...

Just Wait.

4 step study in sheep sagacity

sa.gac.i.ty: noun

having or showing keen mental discernment and good judgment...

1. See an object; ie: a moody cat.

2. Approach said object with much timidity and trepidation...

and then get much, much, too close.

3.Get cat-slapped.

Jump away wildly, in fear of your life -

blinkingly violently (and rather adorably, I must say.)

4. Repeat.

We've seen something similar out of this cat before...

(You can relive the moment Here.)

Poor Nickle really is a sweetie; she's just touchy. :)

March Madness...

I've watched very few March basketball games thus far;

but I guess we can still say we've had our own share of madness...

There's a lot that needs to be caught up on around here;

I'll be getting to it all eventually - in the meantime,

here's a glimpse of my latest project.

Yep. I have 36 chickens; in my room.

Thankfully, they are confined to a rather large box.

They're happy little birds - and growing so fast.

I've been leaving classical music on during the night to see

what it does for their mental development... :)

(Just so you know, I'm not expecting much.)

Now, we're just looking forward to the return of Spring

so that they can move outdoors...

Poor Spence is going to miss them,

he would watch them through the side holes for hours...

I'm not exactly sure if it's just a general curiosity or something

 a little more malignant... 

We keep an eye on him just the same.

And that's update number one.

The other news hasn't been quite so fun;

and is much more difficult to write about -

it's coming soon though.

a world of ice

The dogs and I ventured out this evening for a look at 

the damage caused by two days of freezing rain...

Not bad considering.

We're very thankful (and surprised) to still have power.

 Sweet old Buster and Huck...

Here's a giant Spencer among a sea of icebergs...

Keep warm everybody!

And if the weather is above 65 where you live -

I don't want to hear about it. ;)

Cuteness...

We've had more lambs this past week... 

We lost one little guy to the intense cold before we even

knew to look for him - thankfully his sibling made it though.

They're rather adorable - as you're about to see;

but that fact really isn't surprising anymore is it?

I especially can't get over this little guy's tucked ear. 

Did you know that old tree stumps are yummy to snack on?

I didn't either.

And just to clarify - personally, I still don't.
But the lambies seem to think so.

For an example of  how quickly these little guys grow up -

here's a recent photo of the lamb that was born on that 

sunny day in November not so long ago.

Check out those little horns! 

So we're enjoying these sweet little faces while they last;

and wanted to share them with all of you.

having a bad hair day...

I guess it's just that time of year.

The time of year when a small dog starts shedding his hair.

Profusely.

And somewhere in the frustrating combination of having 

wood floors, a tiny house, and some bad static electricity,

we've had a bit of a problem on our hands.

So a few days ago, 

I decided to quit bothering with the house -

and just vacuum Spence himself.

His reaction (or lack thereof) was pretty cute.

Take note of Foxanne who's always nearby. :)

God's Gift

Receiving a free Great Pyrenees isn't an experience 

that many people are blessed to have;

and we were keenly aware of that when we brought our special

big polar bear of a dog "Haggai" home several years back.

We were even more aware, and painfully so, when we found

him on the side of the road this past July. 

Gifts like Haggai only come once in a lifetime.

Or do they.

Saturday, we were blessed to bring home the second

free Great Pyrenees of our sheep raising career.

I suspect he's part Lab, he's not as furry, and has a few tan places,

but that sheep dog is in him, we can see it grinning back at us.

We're calling him Barclay at the moment; (pronounced Barkley) -
I guess only time will tell how well the name sticks.
He's an adorable seven-month-old bundle of gigantic-puppy fun.

Too much fun for head-honcho Huck...

(Huck's neck-fur gave him a standing ovation...)

Upon meeting Huck, he furrowed his brow, buttoned

his goofy ears up on the very top of his head, tongue flopping freely,
and then danced on Huck's shadow - all around the driveway.
Huck was not at all amused.
On the contrary; I took it that he was pretty disgusted.

After meeting Buster and Huck,
Dad took Barclay on a tour of his new assignment.

The "Big One" stared shamelessly.

The sheep also gawked without apology,

but only after spunky young Barclay chased them around the paddock;

so I guess we can't really blame them for that.

Dad had a word with Barclay about chasing sheep;

and he's now working on conquering the urge.

Perhaps Barclay's most memorable moment of coming home,

was meeting a high-strung little terrier guy.

I guess it's true that we haven't acquired any new dogs for quite awhile,

 but Spencer's reaction was still a little startling.

(Here's Barclay risking a peek to see where the 

other-worldly yodeling was coming from.)

It took us a moment's cogitation to be certain that the evil racket 

was really, truly, coming from our sweet little teddy bear of a Spencer.

You'd be surprised how quickly the guy can go from our 

smiley, stub-wagging, Foxanne-toting, little sweetheart;

to a fierce monster, with a convincing "junk-yard-dog"

 bellow that chills 'possum hearts.

He's definitely a dog's dog.

But that was no way to greet a friend like Barclay.

We're all still in a bit of a process of helping Barclay find

his spot here with us; but we're so thrilled to have him.

And hopeful that this baby-face with the wrinkly-brow and 

button-up ears will soon grow to be as faithful a guardian as 

the dog whose place he's attempting to take.

Foxanne Friday

We are blessed;

for many a reason that I could easily point at,

but at the moment I'm focused on the blessing of 

a sweet little Fox Terrier, named Spencer.

As you might remember, we found him a new little friend 

recently - a stuffed toy named Foxanne.

After about a month with her,

we've learned to find one, by looking for the other -

the two are never far apart...

Spencer has some odd napping patterns...

Mom especially is grieved by the way he seems to attempt

to find the forbidden objects to put his little head on;

like her special afghan for instance...

 (He wasn't sleeping so peacefully for long...)

He's slowly figuring out that Foxanne makes a nice pillow too;

and the repercussions from mom are considerably lessened...

Sometimes Spencer sneaks Foxanne outside;

something that he knows he shouldn't do.

One day, he forgot her in the snow - 

and when he found her again, she was pretty waterlogged.

We were just a little surprised to see her perched next to the

wood stove not long afterwards.

Especially since none of us humans had put her there...

Spencer is such a sweet, silly, smart little guy.

We really never know what he'll come up with next.

Like a few days ago, when I found him sunning like this...

Maybe the box reflected the heat nicely, or maybe it just happened

to be exactly his size.

My guess is he was just pretending to be a Boxer.

I told you he was smart;

and this is how smart..

The cutest moment yet this past week,

had to be the day we found a rather dirty and bedraggled 

Foxanne in the laundry pile;

and nobody seemed to know how she got there.

Well, evidently we didn't get around to cleaning her up as 

quickly as somebody would have liked...

and the next day, we found her in his water bowl.

Hint.

Needless to say, 

Foxanne has been washed now;

and is almost back to her initial glory.

Ready to show us what else Spencer seems to know.

So long, 2010

"Life is just a little like a ball of yarn;

the closer to the end it gets, the faster it goes."

2010 has hurried past so quickly;

seemingly faster than any other year of my life thus far -

but isn't that how it always is?

Of course I know it really couldn't even possibly 

have been any shorter than any other year has ever been,

but it just was.

Yet when I step back, and survey all of it in its completion -

the proverbial mountains and valleys...

the mysterious way that though the ups and downs

don't seem to add up or make sense in the moment;

they've evened each other out by the time it's all through.

Looking back on twenty and a half years,

2010 may very well be my favorite one yet.

It has been anything but easy;

for many months of it - difficulty seemed to surround me completely.

But as I stand on the summit

and glance back on all that this year has held,

the exhaustion of the climb melts away -

and the beauty overwhelms me.

One word describes it -

Glorious.

What a glorious year 2010 has been.

Yes, it has been so very full of adventures,

and journeys to places I had not yet been;

and those moments are ones that the venturesome side of 

me are especially grateful for.

But, smiling, I realize that the Lord has so perfectly

led me in a parallel path at the same time -

a journey of continuing to grow in Him, that skillfully mirrors

the visible adventures of these past twelve months.

The same ups and downs,

but the same glorious view.

What an awesome God I serve!

Happy New Year everyone!

Remembering the bearded ladies

You may be just a little bit concerned over the title,

I can't really blame you for that I guess;

but be reassured, it's not some past circus life that I'm referring to;

I'm speaking of my goats.

Me and a few of our "Boer" goat kids; ten years ago...

On the 19th of December,

I looked back and realized- I had survived an entire year

without my goats;

and that kind of surprised me.

It seems like it has been forever since that snowy

morning when I hugged my last two goat ladies goodbye.

I had pretty much had goats forever before that,

or at least so it seemed.

Velvet and Rosabelle (the first two) became a part

of our new "self-sufficient" lives when I was seven years old;

and by the time Sonata and Dolce hopped into the truck that

frosty morning - more goats had left their hoof prints

across my heart and memory than I could possibly count.

Boy do I miss them.

I can see your eyebrows raising as you read that;

yes, I know.

You think all goats are horned, stinky, and hairy,

and have the brains of a scarecrow and the

senseless cravings of a garbage disposal.

I know you think that...

Especially if you've read

The Little Boy Down the Road...

Push back the prejudice, and imagine the perfect combination

of your favorite cat and dog.

These creatures (when well taken care of)

have to be some of the loveliest farm critters out there.

They are bright eyed, intelligent, and sassy.

They smell of clover hay and molasses.

They detest dirt, mud, and puddles, and

grain and hay that taste even just a little odd.

Our ladies were always a bit of barnyard divas;

so picky.

If their food touched the ground, they were done with it -

even if they were responsible for putting it there...

They have a sense of humor, we're sure of that -

whether turning lights on in the barn (and Kate getting

blamed for it) or opening locks and getting into things they

shouldn't (and Kate getting blamed for that too),

they do indeed seem to have a wild craving for mayhem.

And they thought it was funny. I know they did.

When I remember my bearded ladies,

I'll always feel silky hair, and floppy ears;

smell alfalfa hay and warm foamy milk;

and hear goat voices calling my 'name' morning and evening.

I'll always remember the mischievous escapades to the garden,

the freshly destroyed grape vines and tiger lilies;

the daintiness,

the curly hair and bad attitudes on rainy mornings.

The flustered fits of snorting at dogs,

the moments of silly, silly, dancing down the sidewalk when they

thought that no one was watching;

the most carefree ridiculous bouncing dance you've ever seen.

I'll miss them forever I'm sure;

but missing is sometimes just a part of remembering,

and forgetting them is something that I hope I never do.

adventures in sturdy womanhood...

Due to some out of the ordinary circumstances, I've

been home alone a lot in the past few days.

While it's hard to get lonely with so much furry company about,

it can get a little overwhelming trying to keep everybody

warm, fed, and cared for. 

Especially with five inches of lovely snow.

It has been awhile since I've had to throw haybales from the loft

and carry steaming buckets of water to chickens...

When my goats left last year, I guess I was kind of 

retired from the heavy duty barn-chores;

but it has come back in all its glory this past week.

Well, except milking goats in the sub-zero temps.

It has definitely been an adventure in sturdy womanhood;

and I can't say I mind that.

The kitties don't get fed until the evening,

but I found Favorite outside enjoying the snow this morning.

And licking his chops...?...

Busted. We knew he didn't get so roly-poly on his normal rations.

Of course the sheep are always happy to see us;

especially if we have an arm load of hay.

You just have to love the steam coming out of their little noses. 

There's something charming about sheep silhouettes with 

a snowy forest back-drop.

Or maybe that's just me...

The cow-boys aren't as endearing;

but they sure do eat a lot.

This is the part where a peaceful morning of chores took

an unsettling turn...

I hate to admit it, but I knew that there was a monster in the 

old goat barn yesterday. Spencer found him and told me all about it...

The brave little guy sat out there and yodeled at it for 

a good three hours yesterday afternoon.

Which was fine by me, since it seemed to help his cabin fever;

and I guess I kind of hoped it would go away after that.
I definitely would have.
(Spencer has a set of pipes...)

Well, the monster (another opossum to be exact)
decided to stay anyways and 

committed a dastardly deed in the night.

Out of all our dear little chickies and chicken mommas from this

past Summer, only one lone chickie had survived being

murdered by the horde of 'possums we were infested with.

Dad had courageously terminated every last one of them,

or so we thought,

until this character showed up yesterday afternoon.

And ate the last chickie.

I was so filled with horror and indignation,

I was ready to dispatch him with a pitch fork then and there,

where he was barricaded in the hay bin with what was left 

of poor little chickie.

But after listening to him hiss like a snake and howl like

a bewitched hyena all at once -

and picturing him clawing my face off;

I thought better of it.

So I set off to get the pistol;

but, then I thought better of that too.

So I compromised and set the 'possum trap.

It's a comfort to have three such brave and courageous

dogs around to watch my back.

Huck was just awaiting the word to go take care

of Mr. 'Possum.

They'd do anything they could for me;

I just love that about my dogs.

But we all know that sometimes patience and self control is the 

sturdiest thing yet - so we're waiting this thing out.

Mr. 'Possum will answer for his past when Dad gets home today.

In the meantime,

I think I'll make yet another trip to the woodshed for more wood,

and then maybe make a cup of tea with honey and cream.

We've had enough adventure and mayhem for one day.